Suchergebnisse

Issue 34.3 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building: 539 North Grand Boulevard: St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~ 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $I1.00 for two years; olher countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to repre~nt Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor May 1975 Volume 34 Number 3 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 Noah Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Models of Spiritual Direction David L. Fleming, S.J. David L. Fleming, S.J., is Co-director of the Institute of Religious Formation at the School of Divinity of St. Louis University; 3634 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Religious men and women today often find themselves in deep disagreement about the role of spiritual direction in their lives. The basic problem lies often enough in the inability to distinguish the various ways of understanding spiritual direction which have been developed in the Christian tradition. A. Models of Spiritual Direction lnspi~:ed by Father Avery Dulles' book, Models of the Church, 1 would like to propose a similar approach.to be used to better our understanding of spiritual direction. Dulles carefully makes the case that church has no single comprehensive definition, but as contemporary theology views it, church is in need of many models held simultaneously to gain a more adequate under-standing. In a similar way, I believe that we will come to a far richer apprecia-tion of spiritual direction if we consider various models which haye tried to capture what it is and how it works. The advantage of models in understanding spiritual direction, just as in working with the notion of church, arises out of the necessary obscurities of religious language and the area of religious experience. Spiritual direction deals with an ultimate level of religious mystery of a God and man love-relationship. As a result, our religious language should be looked upon as forming models because it can only approximate the object which it is trying to grasp. Whenever we use a model conception, we break the illusion that we are actually holding the infinite within the finite structures of our language. Moreover, a variety of models opens up the possibility of our not getting fixed upon any particular one and taking it as an idol. At the same time, through a 35'1 352 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 variety of models we will more easily allow for the greater expression of the subjective element which is at the core of,all religious experience. 1 will propose, then, five models of spiritual direction that are found in our Christian heritage. Spiritual direction can come in a group setting such as faith-sharing groups, small group discussions, or review-of-life groups. But here I will propose five models that deal only with personal spiritual direction, that is, one director with one being directed. For personal direction holds a privileged place in our tradition, and group activity does not eliminate its value or its need. 1 do not pretend that five models form an exhaustive list, but I think that it covers a help.ful spectrum of ideas about spiritual direction as it has come to be understood and practiced in the Church. The five models 1 have chosen are: I) direction as institutionalized; 2) direction as interpersonal relationship; 3) direction as charismatic; 4) direction as sacramental; and 5) direction as incarnational. ! will describe briefly spiritual direction as un-derstood in each of these models, touching somewhat on both the strengths of the model and the weaknesses. In trying to identify each clearly, I face the risk of caricaturing, but that is not my intention. All models should be valued and respected. I) Direction as Institutionalized Spiritual direction is institutionalized in the functions of the novice direc-tor, the designated spiritual director of a seminary, the tertian director, and sometimes the superior, especially as understood in the original role of the ab-bot or in the lgnatian idea of a superior. Direction in this model is carried out particularly by instructing in the spiritual and religious life. Spiritual direction is considered in terms of formation; it has a molding role, and so it connotes a certain control over a person's life development. Oftentimes direction in this model exercises a judgmental role because candidates for religious life or for the priesthood must be declared fit or not fit and so accepted or rejected. Spiritual direction in this designated job-form plays an important part in the Church today, just as it has in past centuries. Among the advantages of this model, the clarity of formation is assured, because the necessary instruction about spiritual development is not left to chance. Definite goals and some set means are a part of the direction ex-change, in this model, we find a certain control over the competency of the director since the "job" of direction was assigned usually by superiors who have judged a person's fittingness for such a role. From the letters of St. Paul giving direction to communities and to individuals, through the early models of direction by the desert fathers, we find deep in Christian tradition the bases of this institutional model. But a number of weaknesses are also apparent in this model. Obviously freedom is minimal in setting up the relationship of direction since the one be-ing directed must subject himself to the person whose function it is to fulfill the assigned job as director. Direction seems to be more a matter of imposition of Models of Spiritual Direction life style and spiritual practices than an evoking of personal growth. Direction also appears to be quite limited in time-value, for it covers primarily the for-mational period or, beyond that, the possible crisis period which needs infor-mation or judgment. 2) Direction as Interpersonal Relationship In this model, spiritual direction is defined primarily in terms of a per-sonal relationship--the closer the friendship the better. Direction, then, usually has the aspect of friendly sharing and loving support. While still main-taining the interpersonal basis, this model of direction sometimes makes studied use of psychological techniques, e.g. the transactional analysis methods. Even with the possibility of a certain psychological approach being consciously employed, direction attempts to focus equally upon the interper-sonal relationship of the two friends (the one directing and the one directed) and the growth in a life-response to God. Frequently in this model, the two people involved exchange roles of director with each other so that spiritual direction becomes a mutual involvement. The strengths of this model are evident in the presence of the love, care, and concern which permeate the relationship in all its aspects. As in any friendship, the free gift of self to each other is assured. Self-disclosure with all its dreams, ideals, fears, and disappointments flows very naturally as the friendship continues to deepen. While contemporary attitudes, especially in reaction to the institutional model of direction, favor this kind of approach, historically it also rests on strong evidence from the example of various saints' friendships with each other and from the written correspondence of direction. When we consider the weaknesses, we note that such a model may overstress the humanistic and so not allow for the distance between reason and grace, which never perfectly coincide. Even though in one sense friends can speak up honestly and forthrightly to each other, in another sense their lack of distance may blind each other to the very areas which need attention. Sometimes even the best of friends find that they are frozen in speaking about one or other area because of the delicacy of the love relationship between them. Another difficulty arises when psychological techniques enter into the picture too consciously; we may find a good helping relationship, but one which takes very little notice of the presence of God or the dynamism of grace. 3) Direction as Charismatic Spiritual direction in this model finds a basis in the diakrisis or discretio of St. Paul's grace-gifts within the Body of Chrigt. Because of the stress upon the special character of this person who is truly a "spiritual discerner," spiritual direction itself is seen as a rarity. St. Teresa of Avila is often quoted in support of this viewpoint because she said that only one person in a thousand is capable of direction work. Just to make the point more clearly, St. Francis de Sales is cited for his observation that a director may number only one in ten thousand. 354 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 Following the biblical image of forgiveness as seventy times seven, both saints are not using modern statistics, but rather they are indicating the special gift which is demanded of the director in spiritual direction work. For spiritual direction as understood here is defined more in terms of insight or infused in-tuition from God. Direction has an aura of the marvelous about it. The emphasis seems to focus more on the arcane directions which will be given to the person directed--special divine messages which come from the "reading of a soul" by the inspired director. The strengths of such a view certainly include the great stress made upon the gift-notion of spiritual direction. Direction in this model catches up two people in the atmosphere of the divine, and the process receives its proper emphasis of being more than human technique and human response, it does point up that a "seeing deeper" with the eyes of faith highlights the relationship of direction. There is a certain basis in both the Old and New Testament, and some examples in Christian hagiography to support such a viewpoint. The weaknesses become apparent in the over-significance attributed to the power of God's grace--looking for its presence only in the spectacular or the marvelous. It seems to restrict God's gifts far too much to the extraordinary in the light of human judgment. As a result, spiritual direction itself becomes an extraordinary means in the life of the Church spiritual tradition. But the history of spirituality does not support this conclusion. 4) Direction as Sacramental Spiritual direction has long been seen in terms of a sacramental model because of the confessor-penitent relationship in the sacrament of penance. Because of the sacramental grace of priestly ordination, the priest himself was seen to be a very special instrument of God and to embody the gifts of ministry which we find in the writings of St. Paul. The words which a priest speaks, then, have greater importance than mere human opinion or advice because they are spoken by God's human representative. More particularly, within the sacrament of penance the priest-confessor often has words of advice or counsel. This context becomes the only true setting of spiritual direction because of the certain ex opere operato effect of words spoken within the sacramental encounter. Such counsel within the context of the sacrament takes in, not just the area of sinful tendencies, but all the attitudes and ways of acting which relate to the God-orientation of a person's life. The advantages of this model include the emphasis given to a more balanced sense of the sacrament of penance. Confession itself is not a mechanistic forgiveness; it has a human relationship involved between the priest-representative of the Church and the penitent. There is no doubt that God-inspired words of counsel or advice do take place in the sacramental con-text. Yet as every priest knows experientially, such words cannot be presumed automatically--one flagrant handicapping of God's action being the prepared Models of Spiritual Direction / 355 little "sermon" which each penitent, no matter what he may confess, may receive on a particular Saturday confession period. But two-human beings, so consciously aware of the special presence of God in the sacramental relationship, are both more readily open to the word of God being spoken and being received. The merit of this viewpoint rests upon a long tradition stem-ming from the penitential manuals of the Irish monks of the eighth century to the more contemporary confession manuals dating from the seventeenth cen-tury in which direction brings a fullness to and finds its proper setting in the sacrament of penance. The weaknesses of such a model are found in the restrictions which it puts upon spiritual direction itself. Because of the sacramental setting, a priest is the only qualified spiritual director. Direction, then, flows properly from the ministry of priesthood. If other men and women carry on this work, it is only as "secondary" helpers to the priest who gives over to them this function. This viewpoint seems to take for granted that priesthood ministry inclu.des all the ministries to be found within the Church, but this conception has no sound basis in scripture or tradition. Direction in this model also takes on too magical a sense in that whatever is said within the context of the sacrament becomes true spiritual counsel. 5) Direction as Incarnational This model of direction is one that is probably receiving most attention to-day in the revival of the practice of spiritual direction. The name incarnational given to describe it calls a little too ostentatiously to the Christian connotation of God-becoming-man. Spiritual direction takes it place among the many "fleshly" means which make up God's ordinary way of salvation as un-derstood in Christianity. From Jesus Christ through the Apostles down to our own contemporary Church, we know that God has a design of salvation mediated by our fellowmen. Direction, then, is seen in its ordinariness of one man helping another to clarify and objectify God's will in his life. At the same time, direction is known to be a relationship of two persons caught up in the presence and power of God in this very ordinary encounter, and so both are aware by faith of the privileged grace-time which direction makes available. Elements which are present in the incarnation of the God-man have their analogous components in the direction relationship. Human preparation, faith, and an openness to the movement of God are necessary, and then a recognition that any true fruition of the direction relationship comes from the Spirit. This model of direction is also properly identified as incarnational in that no aspect of a person's life is left apart from the direction context, since man as a whole--physically, psychologically, and spiritually--must grow in his response to God's unique call to him. The advantages of this model are especially seen in terms of the developments of our own day. It presents a conceptual notion of direction that is deeply in tune with the whole process of renewal in the Church. It builds 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 upon the richness of contemporary scriptural and theological studies, par-ticularly in the areas of Christology and Ecclesiology. It maintains a sure emphasis on the humanness of this relationship in direction, while still placing the solidity of growth as a God-empowered gift. Direction in this model is an ordinary means of spiritual growth in the embodied spirituality which is Christianity. This way of understanding direction has good foundation in both scripture and tradition since we find God acting through men in giving advice and warning (e.g. Jeremiah), in making a person aware of how to listen to God (e.g. Samuel and Saul), in clarifying and objectifying a response (e.g. David and Nathan), and in instruction (e.g. Ananias and Paul). The example con-tinues in the many volumes of spiritual writings and letters which we have as a legacy from holy men and women in our Catholic history. The weaknesses of this model arise somewhat from the novelty of its recent re-emphasis. It may too easily be seen as a good human relationship sprinkled over with pious words about God's will. Direction may look so ordinary that the only conclusion to be drawn is that everyone needs it and is capable of profiting from it and just about everyone has the ability to give direction. Then, too, taking in the whole of one's life as the subject-matter seems to leave this model of direction open to a lack of preciseness--no clear understanding of the concerns of direction or the ways of going about it. In a similar way, direction seems to lack clarity about the quality of this spiritual relationship--mixing friendship and distance or professionalism, and or-dinariness and the sense of the holy. B. A Model of Models? In review, all the models have played and do play an important part in our full understanding of spiritual direction--what it is, who does it, to whom it has value, how to go about it, and so on. What 1 hope to have shown is that we can understand spiritual direction in various ways (not just one right way), and that as a result there are various expectations on the part of the director and the one being directed, various methods of directing, and even different ways of valuing its importance for mature spiritual life. To try to reduce the various models of spiritual direction to a single one is to lose sight of the incomprehensible richness of religious experience which forms the content of direction. Neither the strengths nor the weaknesses of the various approaches or models are neatly reducible to a single model. Even after describing each model in its purity, we should be aware that a blending often happens in ~ictual praciice. What we tend to do is to make one model our pivotal model for adapting and understanding other ways of functioning in spiritual direction. But to hold one model as pivotal is quite different from maintaining that there is only one way of understanding and practicing spiritual direction. If I were to opt for a pivotal model for our own day, 1 would choose direc-tion described as incarnational. I believe that it allows for a greater understand-ing of the continuing importance of spiritual direction, especially for the men Models ojSpiritual Direction / 3!i7 and women who have recognized or who are in the process of recognizing the call to specialized ministry roles within the Church. It also more easily allows for the importance of other understandings of direction and other methodologies according to circumstances, though it maintains an adequacy for its own method as a common pattern. Far more work must still be done to gain .an appreciation of the richness which we possess in the Christian practice of spiritual direction. Presently, to be able to hold the different models of direction in tension allows us to draw a little closer to a more adequate truth and a more varied beauty which encompass the mystery of spiritual direction ministry. Creative Response To A Call Within "The Call" Sister Marie Gatza, I.H.M. Sister Marie Gatza, I.H.M., participated in the Workshop of National Vocation Directors which met at Mercy Center in Farmington, Michigan, during the summer of 1974. She is Assistant General of the Sisters Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary; Saint Mary Convent; Monroe, Michigan 48161. The area of "Transfer," is, I am told, fast becoming a matter of concern among Vocation Directors. In the past, there have been rare instances of transfers centered mostly on permissions given to leave an active for a con-templative congregation, a less strict order for a stricter one. However, the topic of "Transfer" is a relatively recent new-comer among religious life con-cepts within Congregations of women in the United States, and so not too much has yet made its way into current literature. Opportunities to learn more about the idea of "Transfer,'" "therefore, come best through situations like the workshop of Vocation Directors at Mercy Center in Farmington where during the Summer of 1974, I had the privilege of contributing the ideas developed in this essay. In trying to think how I could most effectively focus the concentration of workshop members on the topic of"Transfer," 1 found that four key questions readily surfaced: I. Why would a Sister desire to leave her parent Congregation? 2. What factors greatly influence the thinking of Sisters in their search for a Congregation into which they can transfer? 3. What motivation would impel a Congregation to welcome into its membership a Sister who has already finalized her commitment in another Congregati6n? 358 Creative Response to a Call Within "The Call" / 359 4. Given mutuality on the part of the Sister to enter and of the Congrega-tion to receive, what procedural steps are basic to achieving the transfer of a Sister from one Congregation to another? I would like to treat each of these questions, now, in some detail. Then in addition to these four questions, it seems well to attend, even briefly, to the beginnings of evaluation of the concept of "Transfer" as we perceive it operating today within religious Congregations. I Why do Sisters feel convinced that they must leave the Congregation in which they pronounced Perpetual Vows? Because the reasons given by each of the Sisters cited here are so in-dividual, it would not be wise--or even possible--for me to generalize in response to this question. What we can do, however, is to take some mini-glimpses into the lives of a few Sisters who saw "Transfer" as vital to the continuance of their religious commitment. From them we may learn that the motives which led Sisters to request transfer are many and varied. My first example is SISTER P who had been for almost twenty years a member.of a cloistered Congregation, which recently, as a matter of entering into renewal of Religious life, permitted coursework for its Sisters on the cam-puses of nearby Catholic colleges. Sister P was greatly enthusiastic about her opportunity for college education, and discovered that she had a gift for and a great desire to impart knowledge to others in a classroom situation. She found the world of apostolic teaching increasingly fascinating, and at the same time was aware of a persistent questioning within herself as to whether she was really fitted for, or any longer drawn to the contemplative life, despite the years she had already spent within it. She asked for a leave of absence in order to test out her vocation in a Congregation whose main apostolic thrust is education. SISTER N became a candidate in the Congregation of her choice after completing secondary school, and entered, with apparent enthusiasm, into full-scale studies toward becoming a teacher in the Congregation's apostolate of education. Toward the end of nearly twenty years of service in various schools, and maintaining only love and reverence for her own active congregation, she felt the persistent call of the Lord to continue'her religious life in a more con-templative setting. Her transfer to a contemplative community was, therefore, effected. SISTER T's story is a second testimonial to the fact that transfer is a two-way proposition: some come, others go. 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 Sister T, brilliantly endowed intellectually, chose to transfer from the original foundation Motherhouse of her congregation to one of its branches. Her choice for this action seemed to be motivated by the fact that the style and tempo of that community much more surely encompassed her thoughts on renewal in religious life than did that of her own Congregation. When SISTER S first came into contact with the congregation into which she ultimately transferred, she was in her early thirties, and had already been questioning her current situation in religious life. Sister S's diocesan Com-munity consisted of only thirty-four, mostly older members, who in Sister's es-timation had not sufficient theological background to enable them to cope with renewal. At the offset, Sister's motivation for approaching another religious con-gregation was primarily one of a desire to earn her degree. In the course of completing her studies, she came into close contact with the life-style of the faculty, Sisters who were her peers in the Juniorate, and a number of other Sisters belonging to the Congregation which staffed her college. At gradua-tion, Sister realized that the determination to transfer was still much alive within her, and took a most natural next-step: seek transfer permanently to that congregation. SISTER G, educated in elementary an'd secondary schools staffed by Sisters dedicated primarily to education, chose to enter another congregation whose apostolate included social work, for which she felt-a strong inclination. Ironically, at the time she requested entry into religious life, the congregation of her choice was in great need of teachers rather than of social workers, and so, Sister G was educated for the teaching field, a profession in which, however, she learned to find joy and satisfaction. After 19 years in community, Sister G's mother became ill and was in desperate need of her help. Sister appealed to her Provincial, requesting to live and teach with the group of Sisters in the town where her mother's home was located, a move that enabled her to be closer to her mother. Because Sister G's congregation at the time did not approve of inter- Congregational living situations, she was required to take a leave of absence in order to'care for her mother. Sister's two years of leave were painful ones for her in that she felt an absence of support from her Congregation, and grew in-creasingly concerned that her request to care for her mother in this way had displeased her former superiors. A sense of disappointment,-discouragement and alienation resulted. Meanwhile, her conviction of being at home and loved in her temporary living situation became more compelling, and Sister's thoughts focused on the advisability of asking for a transfer. Her present status 'is one of preparing to finalize her commitment to the Lord in her new Congregation. SISTER M is a promising young Ph.D., gifted as well with an unusually Creative Response to a Call Within "The ('all" / 361 strong sense of commitment to religious life, and a very real love and loyalty to her own Congregation. Sister M's reason for seeking transfer is expressed clearly in this sentence taken from one of her letters: "I am reluctant to make this transfer, but have found peace of mind with the decision, since affiliation with the community, ¯ promises greater freedom to respond to the heart of my religious vocation and to the needs of the Church as ! understand them." Interestingly, Sister M is at the present moment making one last effort to work things out with her own Congregation. I do not know whether or not her transfer will materialize. These examples, though few, indicate that reasons for thinking of transfer are much conditioned by a variety of circumstances in which Sisters find themselves. I1 What considerations greatly influence the thinking of Sisters in their search for a specific Congregation into which they would hope to transfer? I suppose that it would be next to impossible to make a comprehensive listing of the factors influencing Sisters in their search for another Congrega-tion in which they can live out the religious cohamitment already begun in the first, their parent Congregation. It is my experience that most Sisters who are interested in a possible transfer express in some way a feeling of affinity with the "new" Congrega-tion, and a supportiveness toward its thrust in Renewal. Where a House of Prayer has developed, for example, many Sisters relate very positively to the significance accorded this growing movement in the Christian life of our day, and are attracted by the centrality of importance accorded to both personal and communal prayer. Again, a basic belief in, and an inner assurance of, competency in relation to the apostolate of the new Congregation seems to enter significantly into a Sister's choice of a Community to which she might like to transfer. Sometimes, style Of living is an important consideration. A person's contact in childhood with the elected Congregation, that is, in elementary or secondary school years, or contact with members of a given Congregation in adult years may influence the Sister'.s decision to opt for one Congregation rather than another, if a transfer is sought. Occasionally, a more insightful approach is brought to the resolution of this question, i.e. "which Congregation?" ! recall, for example, a Sister who had entered religious life as an Aspirant after completing the eighth grade. Twelve years later, having pronounced perpetual vows, Sister asked to be ex-claustrated from her Congregation for the purpose of searching out whether religious life should c~ntinue to be her life-style. Her searching she did under direction, concluding that, yes, religious life was, indeed, what the Lord was :362 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 calling her to live; bt~t not, however, within the Congregation she had entered. After asking herself what it was within the spirit and heritage of her own Congregation that had been most helpful and inspirational to her, really at the heart of her vocation, Sister contacted better than a.dozen Congregations ask-ing for brochures. These she studied for indications of the traits that best em-bodied the spirit of the Congregation in which she had made her vows. In the end, it was the Congregation which she thought did this best that she ap-proached asking for a transfer. But whatever the method used, or whatever the degree of logic or clearness of purpose perceived by the Sister considering transfer, I believe it is fairly safe to say that the seeker is hopeful of finding in the new Congregation cir-cumstances that will be favorable for her living, in some rewarding way, a commitment which means very much to her; circumstances which for some reason or other may have been painfully absent in her life in Community up to this point. III What would be the motivation of a Congregation which welcomes as a new member o fits own a Sister who has already lived under permanent profession within another Congregation? First off, let's clarify one point beyond any confusion. There is probably small encouragement in the Church for supporting transfer at all. The nature of religious commitment, as it has been historically understood and accepted, i.e., "Community", "family", "leader-followers" concepts, argues for permanency within the parent Congregation. We have learned to speak of the "charism" of a Congregation: that unique spirit that characterizes a group of Sisters as a religious Congregation. Although it is hard to put one's fingers on exactly what it is that distinguishes one Congrega-tion from another, no one will deny that there is a certain something, a family bond or spirit which is recognizable to the members, and, to an appreciable ex-tent, able to be detected by outsiders, as well. In some effective way, it seems that the act of transferring from one Congregation to another has to take this matter of Community-charism into consideration. Granting this fact, even slight reflection leads to the conviction that transfer is not an action one opts to pursue lightly when life's more adven-turous movements taper, off into routine. No. To transfer from one's Congregation to another can result in virtually total uprooting, loss of friends, and severance from all that has been familiar for the individual. Should transfer become a more.common pr~actice, we could anticipate con-sequences for the parent Congregation, also. Loss of morale within the ranks, and diminished confidence in the Community outlook and thrust on the part of many of the members can develop exceedingly fast, as we have all learned through our own decrease in numbers sustained in recent years. Creative Response to a Call Within "'The Call" / 363 These considerations being so, a large number of transfers could hardly be thought desirable. One might ask, then, why do leaders of Congregations entertain the idea of transfer at all? Their motivation has to arise from a basic reverence for each individual call to religious life, and a desire to support a fellow Sister in her efforts to re-main faithful to her vocation, even if it means a painful re-planting. Those sup-porting transfer would have to act from a willingness and desire: a. to provide for a Sister some "time" and "space" away from her Congregation in which she can be free to sort out priorities while still being basically observant of the life style of a religious, -or-b. to provide a Sister with an opportunity to embrace the life and mission of a new Congregation for the sake of remaining faithful to her commit-ment to Christ, when it becomes apparent that she can no longer achieve this end within her own Congregation, -or much more rarely, willingness to engraft upon one's own Congregation (as was recently the case within a diocesan group in one of our Eastern States) a whole Com-munity of Sisters when a basic similarity of spirit, or charism prevails in the two Congregations in question. These thoughts indicate in some way, why a Congregation is sometimes willing to accept Sisters asking for a transfer. IV Given a Sister who believes she needs to have a new setting in which to continue living her religious vocation, and given a Congregation willing to think of her as a potential new member of its own, what must be done? The essentials are not too numerous, in my .experience. a. Willingness of the General Superiors of both Congregations to allow and welcome the fact of a transfer, is undoubtedly, of the essence. b. Some good help provided the Sister in discerning whether transfer is, in-deed, the Lord's will for her seems essential too. c. And, of course, proper transactions with Rome are required for the ob-taining of the needed "paper"--the Rescript of Transfer. Of these three, the step which admits of many specifics is the second one; the discernment process. Taking more time than not enough at this point, and being free to meet the individual needs of the Sister is a matter that must 364 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 receive priority at all costs. The space of a year, or more, can very profitably be employed in initially resolving the question of whether it would be mutually advantageous to bring about a transfer, and then of building a readiness for a transfer which is directed to future personal and apostolic fruitfulness for the Sister and for her new Congregation. In my Congregation, which has been open to requests of Sisters to transfer, dealing with Sisters who are thinking about this possibility is a work delegated to the Assistant of the General Superior. It is her responsibility as contact per-son to keep the General Superior and Provincials aware of the Sister's progress at stated times throughout the year. It is also understood that the contact person in some suitable way perform the following duties in re to the Sister seeking to transfer: I. The Contact person enables the Sister to find a situation in which she will live and work among her new Sisters as an actual member of her own Congregation for at least one year before any formal request is made to Rome. During this year a two-way evaluation is on-going: on the part of the Sister who is acquainting herself with the new Com-munity; and on the part of the chosen Community which tries to ask honestly: "Can our Congregation assist this Sister in her living of a healthy religious life and further our Community interests as well by welcoming her into our midst?" 2. The Contact person makes efforts to assist the Sister to become familiar with the members of the elected Community and their life-st'yle, Constitutions, prayer, Community history, and so on. 3. She arranges a realistic and practical system of contacts by means of which she herself, will keep in close contact with the possible transfer- Sister throughout the year. 4. It is her responsibility to establish, as well, during the year, some means of contacting the Sisters residing with Sister-transfer to see how they in-teract with her and she with them. 5. The Contact person may significantly assist her Superior in preparing the portfolio of materials needed to formalize the transfer at Rome, and within both Congregations of Sisters. 6. She enters into facilitating plans for the liturgical celebration marking completion of transfer. 7. She, finally, keeps files current: documents, letters, various com-munications. These suggestions form'at least a working outline of practical steps that will take on significance during the discernment period, especially. Here, then, are some thoughts on each of the four questions presented in the beginning of this essay. I have shown that transfer from one Congregation to another is possible; and while certainly not giving the last word on how it can come about, I have indicated the outline of a procedure for a starter. With Creative l~,esponse to a Call Within "The Call" / 365 all of this, ~owever, there is a yet unasked, but key question that must be sur-faced: I When all the externals and!formalities of the transfer have been com-pleted; when the document~ have been validated; when the ceremonial commemorating the event l~as become a matter of history, it still seems imperative to ask: Did a transfer really occur? Is it possible for a person to sink permanent roots in new soil twice in the space of a single, human lifetime? What sort of on-going~considerations would have to be borne in mind by the "new" community and satisfactorily dealt with by the transferred Sister so that she will not: -- be constantly lone!y? -- be often lacking in ~nderstanding because her past is so foreign in many ways fro~ the past of those with whom she now lives? -- be many times Iook~ing backward to a chapter of her life which is largely unsharable with others and now closed even to herself?, These questions--very real and, sometimes, harsh, lead one, unerringly to the ultimate question: "For h~w many can transfer really be an alternative'?" This presentation really c~uld end with the question 1 have just posed. Ho ever, as a kind of epilog~te, let me ask one further: w'what would happen were it possible for a Sister to live within another Congregation on an extended leave until such time arrived at which she could return in dignity an~ peace and joy to her own Congregation?" Might not this be an unusu~ai service of love that a Congregation could ex-tend not only to an individual ~eligious, but to its Sister-Congregation, as well? it's worth a thought! I Integrity in the Religious Life Sister Mary John Mananzan, O.S.B. Sister Mary John Mananzan is attached to St. Scholastica's College; 2560 Leon Guinto, Sr. St.; P.O. Box 3153; Manila, Philippines. There are virtues which are so all-encompassing that one can explain the other facets of religious life through them. It is not infrequent to explain religious life primarily through one of the vows--(of poverty, of chastity, and obedience) or primarily as a life of love and from there explain all its other features. One such encompassing virtue which, however, is rarely used to view religious life, is integrity. And it is not infrequent that religious people who ex-hibit m~iny external manifestations of virtue can be lacking in integrity. This lack of integrity .can be so subtle that such religious people become a real problem to honest but simple people who deal with the.m. These cannot put their .finger to a particular fault but somehow .they feel something is wrong somewhere. This article will try to analyze situations that exhibit the presence of integrity or the lack of it particularly in the religious life. Integrity is a many-faceted word. Its nuances encompass different but related levels of meaning--from honesty to wholeness of being. But all along this spectrum of meaning runs a single beam that relates them to each other, namely TRUTH. Integrity describes the many aspects of being true. That is why it is a basic virtue. Without it all other seeming virtues are a show and the lack of it makes any manifested virtue suspect. The most basic meaning of the word is "wholeness" or oneness. A religious who is a "whole" is one who has achievi~d a certain harmony in his being, which presupposes a basic self-understanding and self-acceptance. Further-more he has a certain sense of reality and a coherent system of values which form the framework for this authentic self-awareness. Most religious tend to mature intellectually before they do emotionally and morally. There is thus a Integrity in the Religious LiJ~" / certain incongruence and inconsistency in their life. They can give very good lectures, sermons, or write beautiful articles about behaviour, attitudes or vir-tues which can be sadly lacking in their lives. The catching up of one's emotion and one's will with one's insight is a progressive growth in integrity and wholeness. This tendency of the earlier maturation of the intellect may explain the expert way religious.can rationalize actions which deep in their heart they feel guilty about. Laymen can be more honest about their faults than many religious because they don't need to live up to an image. Religious on the other hand have to live up to the imperatives that rule their lives--the imperative to perfection, the imperative to excellence, the imperative to fidelity, the im-perative to unselfishness, the imperative to sacrifice, etc. There is thus a ground for varying degrees of hypocrisy in the religious life ranging from unconscious inconsistency, through semi-conscious in-congruence to alarming schizophrenic tendencies. In this connection, one can look at the crisis of celibacy today as the crisis of integrity. Celibacy can be viewed as the virtue of integrity par excellence. The fact that physical integrity is a sign of virginity is a significant symbol of the main characteristic of celibacy which is personal wholeness. Lived celibacy is not just renunciation but it is at the same time a fulfillment--namely the coming together of heart, mind, body in a singleness of purpose of serving God and being wholly there for others. Any religious who has had a crisis of celibacy must have undergone the literally heart-rending experience of being drawn to two poles--to the demand of the religious life and to the preoccupa-tion with the person with whom one is emotionally involved. Even without indulging in sexual relationships this inner splitting of one's heart threatens one's integrity as a religious. Sooner or later one will reach a critical point which can result in two ways: It can result in a greater wholeness, in a greater integrity due to a conscious re-direction of one's being to one's religious commitment or to a totally new way of life. But it can also lead to disintegration in one who refuses to heal the dichotomy of his heart. At this point all the other forms of lack of integrity will come in--justification, dis-simulation, outright deceit. The more clever the religious the more ingenious the rationalization. The whole of theology can be overhauled to justify the in-fidelity of the human heart, In those who have come to the point of indulging in sexual relationships, the element of passion comes in which blinds them to an almost unbelievable degree. It is not just a matter of moral disintegration that ensues; it can mean a disintegration of pe~sonality. Whole articles can be written about the so-called "third way." Here, only its effect on one's integrity has been discussed. Less dramatic but nevertheless harmful forms of lack of integrity can be found among religious. Where positions of power are held, there certain danger to one's integrity is present. As has already been said, the imperatives of the religious life conditions the failings of religious to be less glaring, less gross, more subtle, more refihed, and consequently more insidious. One can, 361~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 for example develop a way of manipulating facts to serve one's purposes, it is not a matter of downright deception or lie but a way of leaving out facts or choosing them or presenting just an angle of them in order to get what one wants. One cannot put a finger on any downright falsified item but the whole thing is a lie nevertheless. The manipulation of reality can be so subtle that only the most clever can see through the whole scheme and yet ordinary people have an uneasy feeling about it. A more serious form of this lack of integrity is the manipulation of people. It is bad enough to manipulate facts, it is worse to manipulate people. There are clever persons who can play on the weaknesses and strength of other people to their advantage. When one has a project all wiles will be exerted to manipulate people into it. This can lead to sickening forms of "false sweetness," to borrow from the little girl who transformed the 8th commandment into--"Thou shal( not bear false sweetness against thy neighbor." For a positive treatment of integrity, one has to go back to the basic mean-ing given earlier in the article, namely--wholeness. There is in the religious who has achieved a certain amount of integrity, a certain consistency and con-gruence which gives his personality an identifiable core. This gives him a cer-tain reliability and trustworthiness lacking in "shifty" personalities. One. knows where one stands with him. One is aware of encountering someone who remains what he essentially is in differing circumstances. He is real! This solid ¯ reality of his personality is, moreover, transparent, not made opaque by masks, pretensions, dissimulations, or defenses. He is by this very fact vulnerable, because he does not change color like a chameleon or become elusive like an eel. Therefore his weak points are apparent and open to attack. But even this vulnerability is an asset because it is what makes him at home with all men. The link that binds human beings is most often their capacity to be hurt rather than their invulnerability, their common misery rather than the superiority or achievement which set some apart from others, It is a vulnerability that survives being pierced without falling apart. The process of personality integration is an on-going one. A person who has reached a certain degree of integrity continues to make experiences which are to be integrated into his personality if they are to become meaningful to him. One's integrity when one's world is still relatively simple is qualitatively (not only in degree) different from that which one has achieved after going' through major life experiences. There are experiences that are more easily in-tegrated than others because of their familiarity and relative lack of impor-tance. Utterly new experiences, shattering or overwhelming ones are more dif-ficult to integrate. These can cause crisis situations. A person of integrity however, can undergo the most serious crisis, even one caused by his own failings and therefore incurring real guilt without suffering a personality dis-integration. He somehow arises from the ruins battered but whole. He is able to integrate even these negative experiences into his life making him richer and. even more whole because of the confirmation of the links that unite his per-sonality. Integrity in the Religious Life / 369 This is probably the reason why religious who sense an inner integrity in their being tend to take more risks and are less bound by conventions or legalistic observance of rules. They have a sure instinct for what is right, what is true, what is demanded by a situation, what is false or genuine in people they live with. Because of all these, they enjoy an inner freedom which makes them more creative and innovative in the living of their religious commitment. Reprints from the Review "The Confessions of Religious Women" by Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. (25 cents) "Institutional Business Administration and Religious" by John J. Flanagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J. (20 cents) "Authority and Religious Life" by J. M. R. Tillard, O.P. (20 cents) "The Death of Atheism" by Rene H. Chabot, M.S. (20 cents) "The Four Moments of Prayer" by John R. Sheets, S.J. (25 cents) "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation" by the Congreg~ition for Religious (35 cents) "Meditative Descriptiori of the Gospel Counsels" (20 cents) "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer" by Herbert Francis Smith, S.J. (25 cents) "Religious Life in the Mystery of the Church" by J. M. R. Tiilard, O.P. (30 cents) "Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits" by John R. Sheets, S.J. (30 cents) "Consciousness Examen" by George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. (20 cents) "Retirement or Vigil?" by Benedict Ashley, O.P. (25 cents) "Celibacy and Contemplation" by Denis Dennehy, S.J. (20 cents) "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat" by Herbert F. Smith, S.J. (20 cents) "The Healing of Memories" by Francis Martin (20 cents) Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Religious Government: A Reflection On Relationships Sister Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M. Sister Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M., whose reflections here have grown out of her experience with the nine provinces of the Sisters of Mercy as well as conversations with members of many other congregations, resides at the Generalate of the Sisters of Mercy; 10000 Kentsdale Drive: P.O.,Box 34446; West Bethesda, Maryland 20034. The renewal of religious life inaugurated by Vatican II required the adaptation of every aspect of that life, both external practices and internal attitudes. One of the most readily observable of these external areas is that of religious government, the network of structures which regulate the interrelationships of members and groups within a community. If the revitalization of communities in the light of Gospel vision and community charism was to occur, the Council saw that it had to be done in the light of the "physical and psychological con-ditions of today's religious," "the needs of the apostolate, the requirements of a given culture, (and) the social and economic conditions everywhere."' More particularly, the Council specified that the way in which communities are governed had to be re-examined in the light of these same standards.~ In order for renewal to truly involve and touch each member of a com-munity, structures had to be altered in order to create channels for each in-dividual voice. Moreover, the spirit of collegiality and subsidiarity which enlivened the Council itself implied the necessity for structures of participative decision-making within other Church groups, such as dioceses, parishes, and religious communities. Before renewal began, role definitions of officials in religious communities (e.g., major superiors, councilors, local superiors) had 'Vatican Council II, Perfectae Caritatis. no. ~. ~lbid. 370 Religious Government." A Reflection on Relationships / 37"1 ¯ provided predictable patterns of decision-making. Furthermore, little revision of rule or policy was required from year to year in an era when lack of change was valued as a sign of strength; constitutions and custom books provided guidelines for every situation, whether of great or trivial importance. With the recognition of the need for on-going adaptation, however, structures had to be altered to provide for on-going participation in the vision-building and direction-setting of a community by every member of that community. Not only was widespread grassroots participation needed for the successful carry-ing out of the special general chapters which inaugurated adaptation, but government plans had to be tailored to allow for continuing involvement in the affairs of the community. At least five years have elapsed since this work began, and some obser-vations can be offered as the fruit of a backwards glance over those years. The remarks which follow can be characterized as insights gleaned from observing the efforts of many communities to re-structure their governments into more responsive and responsible models. They are reflections on the phenomena--not evaluations from a religious or a theological point of view. This work of evaluation is certainly called for, but first we must form a good idea of what is happ.ening before we probe further. The following observations apply to representative bodies, to administrative groups, and to the methods whereby leadership is selected. Representative Bodies The ultimate authority in a religious community has always been vested in its general chapter. Accordingly the efforts to update communities had to begin here in a twofold sense: the chapter itself had to be updated as an instru-ment of leadership and then it, in turn, had the responsibility to inaugurate change in every Other aspect of community life. To this end communities modified their chapters in various ways and, in some cases, supplemented them with other representative groups described variously as assemblies, boards, and congresses. All .of these representative bodies are discussed together here, because certain observations can be made which pertain to all of them. Therefore, in the paragraphs which follow, "chapter" is used to refer to any representative body with responsibility to and for an entire religious in-stitute or a large portion thereof, e.g., a province. I. Most representative bodies have been made truly representative. Great progress has been made here, in the sense that chapters are no longer con-trolled by a preponderance of ex-officio delegates. In most cases the size of the group has been expanded and communities have been diligent in trying to bring together a genuine cross section of the congregation--diversified as to age, apostolic experience, community experience, and geographic location (in instances where a community is widespread). One thing we have learned here, however, is that this effort has its own inherent limitations, in the sense that to specify the configuration of the delegate group too particularly may arbitrarily 372 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 limit the freedom of the community members to have the representatives of their choice. In other words, suitable chapter delegates are not always or necessarily found in equal proportions in each geographic region or age group. 2. A distinction between the chapter and other non-legislative representative groups is not always viable in practice. This observation applies to those com-munities which have created an additional representative group to serve in the interim between chapter sessions in an advisory .capacity to the administrative group (major superior and council). The composition of this new group usually overlaps, to a large extent, the chapter membership, so a certain confusion of roles and responsibilities results. As chapter members, while the chapter is in session, the delegates have dominative authority over the affairs of the in-stitute or province. As assembly members, however, the delegates have only a consultative function. However, a crisis of confidence in the leadership of the administrative group would soon develop if they overrode or ignored the con-sidered judgment of the assembly very often. So, in practice, the assembly becomes, effectively, legislative or policy-making. Also, assembly members would soon lose interest in serving in that capacity if the matters submitted to them were not of real significance and/or if their judgments were not adopted and implemented by the administrative group. Therefore, the tendency is for such assemblies to either develop a quasi-legislative function or else to be con-sistently frustrated by the ineffectiveness of their role. The question must be asked, though, how many significant agenda items are t~ere which should receive the attention of a broad-based chapter group? It would seem that on many issues the administrative group would profit more from consultation with a more specialized committee within the community, such as the representatives of one particular area of apostolic service, than from the broad-based consultation which a chapter can provide. 3. The frequency with which the group meets is more significant than whether or not it is defined as legislative. If the group meets frequently (e.g., as often as bi-monthly, or even quarterly), there is a tendency on the part of the ad-ministrative group to submit a comparatively larger number of items to its consideration and to defer action even on relatively noncontroversial issues un-til after consultation with the chapter or assembly. Thus there is the possibility of paralyzing the activity and initiative of the administrative group, or at least of weakening their effectiveness as a leadership group. Major superiors may hesitate to make any personal creative approach to a problem or issue without submitting it to a chapter 'referendum.' In some cases this is by design: the administrative group is conceived of as the executive arm of the chapter which, in a sense, retains ordinary authority in the community. If this is patterned on the federal government's model of separation of powers, it fails to take account of the fact that the executive and legislative arms of the federal government are (ideally!) separate but equal and, furthermore, are counterbalanced by the judicial arm. If it is patterned on the model of the relationship between a board of trustees and administrators Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / :373 who are responsible to the board, then it should be noted that trustees or-dinarily entrust a large amount of ordinary authority to their administrators. If the administrators abuse that trust, they are replaced by the trustees, but the latter are not involved in the administration per se of the institution. One ques-tion which a community which adopts this "strong chapter/weak ad-ministrator" model must ask itself is to what extent the chapter members are willing to prepare themselves to consider and to involve themselves in a succes-sion of varied problems and issues. Too frequent meetings also may have the unfortunate effect of discourag-ing otherwise qualified community members from serving as delegates. Once this occurs the moral authority of the chapter is subtly undermined because the community senses that somehow serving as a delegate is not a priority respon-sibility and that the composition of the delegate body does not reflect the 'first choice' of the members of the community. 4. Chapter authority is weakened by confusion over its function. Formerly the understanding of what chapter delegates were to do was quite clear and recognized throughout the community. Ordinarily general chapter meetings coincided with the election of the major superior and other officials, and this task was the primary responsibility of the delegates: In addition to this elective function, the delegates knew they had legislative authority. However, in the pre-Vatican Ii era little change was expected or seemingly desired. Therefore the responsibility for this legislative function did not weigh too heavily on the delegates. Beginning with the special general chapters, however, the whole situation changed, and the legislative aspect assumed great prominence. Chapters vir-tually legislated anew on every aspect of religious life, even to the extent of abrogating their former constitutions almost in toto. Since that time com-munities have been using interim constitutions and chapter decrees in place of their former constitutions. The changes reflected in these documents, of course, could not be effected by simply promulgating them: on-going develop-ment had to take place in order to assist community members, delegates and non-delegates alike, to test out the new vis{on in terms of concrete experience and to internalize that vision in their personal value structures. Quite naturally, chapter delegates thus saw that their responsibility did not end when a chapter session adjourned. They had to communicate the chapter vision to everyone and become agents of on-going renewal. Subsequent chapter sessions then became occasions of further corporate reflection on the values embodied in earlier chapter decrees and led to appropriate modifications, refinements, a shared search for ways to implement ideals, and so forth. Thus the legislative function of chapters shaded into a new one, the renewal function. While this evolution of chapter responsibility is understandable and, from some standpoints, desirable, from another viewpoint an unfortunate blurring of distinctions may occur. That is, all of the pronouncements of the same legislative body tend to carry the same weight. As a result, chapter enactments 374 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 may appear to regress to the minutiae of an earlier era, and hence invite dis-regard, or they may all appear to be merely exhortatory without the benefit of stress or emphasis. If the authority of the chapter becomes weakened in the general estimate by too frequent pronouncements, there will be no authoritative voice left in a community to make a really solemn or effective point when it is called for. Perhaps this is an argument for less frequent chapter meetings, preceded by extensive reflection and development of issues within the community. The renewal function, then, would remain primarily the responsibility of the ad-ministrative group and such other community members and committees as they invite to share their responsibility, while the deliberative and legislative function--the ultimate direction setting--would remain the primary emphasis of the chapter itself. Administrative Groups The day-to-day administration of religious communities as well as or-dinary authority between chapter sessions is entrusted to a major superior and councilors and staff persons who collaborate with them. Just as with represen-tative bodies, there have been a variety of new approaches to maximizing the effective service of~.administrative groups. 1. "Teamwork" is seen as an ideal for administrative groups. Scarcely a group could be found today which would not lay claim to functioning as a "'team," but the connotations of this term are sometimes elusive. The use of it probably reflects an effort to escape from a hierarchical arrangement within the administrative group in which distinctions of rank and authority were strictly maintained, or from a rigid system of role descriptions within the council which tended to discourage creativity and initiative among the members and to stifle leadership in all but the major superior. To state what a team is not, however, is not the same as filling the concept with positive mean-ing. The chief characteristic of a team relationship is probably the high degree of communication and interaction among its members. Team organization is not incompatible with differentiation of tasks and authority among the members--after all, there is only one captain of a football team, and everyone plays a different position on it. (There are even offensive players as well as defensive ones, althgugh one would not like to push the analogy this far!) A team does imply a common goal for the members' efforts, however, and a genuinely concerted effort to reach it. There can be a distribution of authority on a team, and there certainly should be a flexibility in approach, a willingness to capitalize on one another's strengths and to compensate for one another's weaknesses, and a relative freedom to revise the "game plan" or to strategize as play progresses. A few communities have organized their administrative groups in such a way that two or more persons have co-equal responsibility. For example, there Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / 37~i may be three co-provincials who have different spheres of responsibility (such as religious formation, apostolic placement, finances, etc.), but seemingly equal accountability for the affairs of the total province. At least one com-munity reported that they found this to be an ineffective and inefficient arrangement because~f the lack of dynamism and leadership which resulted. Another effect of dividing the decisions to be made into approximately equal shares might be that the "co-provincials" tend to make decisions in isolation from one another without reference to the fact that these decisions ought to flow from an integrated vision of what the community is and is about. On the other hand, if "co-provincials" are all equally involved in every decision, the community's expectation will be that all will be equally knowledgeable about every area of responsibility--which would be a wasteful use of time and effort in some cases. These difficulties highlight the importance of studying the decision-making functions of the administrative group in order to provide, insofar as it can be anticipated, for participation which is proportionate to the centrality and im- 'portance of the issue. Formerly, constitutions took care of this by enumerating those matters which required a deliberative vote of the council and those for which only a consultative vote was required. The fact that administrative teams function in a more collegial and less formal style today should not obscure the insight that different matters require varying amounts of delibera-tion and ~consultation. 2. Administrative responsibility is increasingly shared with staff persons. This phenomenon results from the newly-emphasized distinction between charismatic and administrative leadership, as well as from an increasingly specialized and professional approach to traditional areas of administrative responsibility, such as finances, communications and record-keeping, per-sonnel services, and the management of apostolic institutions. Major superiors and their councils are seen primarily as 'in-spirators' and 'enablers' of religious community life--a role which is distinguished from the more management-oriented phase of their responsibility. It is further recognized that such tasks as financial management and personnel services require specialized preparation which is not always had by those whom the community wishes to elect to office. Also, these specialized tasks are often done better when a continuity of responsibility is maintained, and the tenure of such per-sons as the treasurer is not tied into an elected term of office. While in principle such distinctions can be made, there are also certain dif-ficulties which have been evidenced. First of all, the distinction between "charismatic" and "administrative" leadership cannot be exclusively main-tained: a religious leader who did not have a firm and sympathetic under-standing of the realities of the community's existence in every facet of its life would not be able to give credible inspiration to anyone. The leader's respon-sibility is to-cultivate an integrated vision of every aspect of community life in order to be able to challenge the members to further generosity in their 376 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 religious and apostolic life. Therefore the superior and council must collaborate closely with any staff persons in order to keep abreast of what they are learning about the community and also to help determine the priorities of the staff and to set the overall direction of their work. Another difficulty is apparent when the staff has insufficient authority to be effective. Community members must respect the expertise, community dedication, and delegated authority of the staff in order for their collaboration with the administrative group to really benefit all concerned. There are infor-mal as well as formal ways for the administrative group to i'einforce the staff's authority and responsibility in the community's eyes. For example, if a staff person has been designated to respond to a certain type of regularly-recurring request, the councilor should usually refuse to deal with such a request unless it can be shown that the staff person failed to give satisfactory service. Community members themselves sometimes create problems by requiring leaders to hold in confidence information which effects a staff member's role performance. Then the councilor is forced to intervene in the staff person's area of responsibility and to give a seemingly arbitrary direction, thus cir-cumventing the whole process. Councilors must be wary of allowing such situations to occur very often if they wish to have the assistance of a credible and effective staff. The relationship between the administrative group and the staff brings into focus the question of how large each group should be. This is probably a more relevant question than one which is more frequently'heard, "How many full-time persons are r(quired for community leadership?" In a day of declining membership and ever-pressing apostolic demands, releasing talented members for full-time community leadership often seems like a luxury which a com-munity cannot afford. But if more attention is given to a proper balance of elected leaders (full or part-time) and a supportive staff (full or part-time, lay or religious), new possibilities for maximizing leadership potential can be en-visioned. Obviously this answer varies from community to community, depend-ing on such factors as size, geographic expanse, diversity of apostolates, and the willingness and/or ability of council members to perform staff functions. Choice of Leadership No attempt will be made here to discuss varying and even inconsistent ex-pectations of leadership, although how to deal with that reality is a challenging question that applies both to representative bodies and to administrative groups. As noted above, community members expect chapter delegates~to be e.lectors, legislators, and (sometimes) renewal facilitators. They also expect major superiors and their councilors to furnish both charismatic and managerial leadership, in varying proportions. These areas of ambiguity do furnish a backdrop, however, for some remarks about the ways in which leaders have been chosen in recent years, a period in which there has been ceaseless experimentation with differing methods. In fact, most chapters spend Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / 377 more time determining the method by which they will choose their leaders than they do in carrying out the proce.ss itself. In general, four methods can be identified: choice by discernment, election by the chapter, election by the total community, and a nominated-appointed method. 1. Discernment. This method is difficult to define because its interpretation and application vary in different situations. In brief, though, it is a method whereby the electors reach a prayerful consensus about their choice of leadership. It is an application of the spirituality of discernment--the prayer-ful and communal effort to discover and respond to God's will for a group--to the specific matter of selection of leadership. Its proponents usually contrast it to an election which is considered to be mechanical or political or insufficiently attuned to God's will for the community. Since the effectiveness of the method is dependent on khe development of faith community within the group, its usefulness is qualified if the electors represent a very large or wide-spread community, and do not ordinarily see one another except on the occasion of a chapter meeting. In some cases the discernment process has involved not the chapter delegates, but the nominees themselves. In other words, after a process of nomination (in which the entire community has both active and passive voice), those nominees who decide, after personal discernment, that they would be open to being called to community leadership enter into a process of com-munal discernment. Great objection can be raised to this practice, however, since it arbitrarily restricts active voice in the election to only the nominees. Religious constitutions have traditionally specified very exactly who enjoys the right to elect the major superiors, namely, the chapter delegates. To create a situation in which there are no electors except the nominees themselves--some of whom may have received only a single nominating vote while others may have received hundreds--runs contrary to this whole tradition. There must be many qualified electors in a community who are not themselves potential can-didates for the office of major superior. 2. Election by the Chapter. This is the traditional method for selection of leadership, but the manner in which this process is carried out within the chapter admits of many variations. For example, communities have ex-perimented with nominating procedures which involve the entire community and/or with search committees who are charged with developing a list of nominees. Within the chapter itself great efforts are made to allow candidates to discuss their views and their vision of the future direction of the community in an open forum before the election takes place. The election of major superiors, since it is one of the gravest respon-sibilities of a chapter, should be carried out in a prayerful context (as should "all of the deliberations of a chapter). The chapter body should strive together to search out the best-qualified persons to call to leadership in the light of the religious and apostolic goals of the community. Prayers for divine guidance, for freedom from prejudice and error, and for generosity in responding to God's will should all surround the election. If this is the case, then the sup- 371~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 posed contrast between the discernment method and the election method seems to fade in significance. Furthermore, election by the chapter seems to be the only one which readily safeguards the traditional requirements of a valid election, namely, that the votes be free, secret, certain, absolute, and determinate.3 Even a total community election (to be dealt with below) risks compromising these con-ditions. Some would argue that these requirements should no longer apply and that, for example, the community would be better served if ballots were not secret. While at first glance this may seem to represent a growth in the level of mutual trust and evidence a breakthrough in communications within a com-munity, further reflection might lead to an enhanced appreciation of those traditional safeguards which the Church has provided in canon law. Any com-munity which forswears the use of "free, secret, certain, absolute, and deter-minate" ballots should understand full well what it is sacrificing and be con-vinced that a proportionate good will be achieved. 3. Election by the Total Com~munity. It is doubtful whether this method cduid be successfully applied in any but a very small community where all of the members can be present at an election or where the ballots can be collected within a short period of time. Those who advocate a direct popular election probably reflect a lack of confidence in their chapter, a serious problem which should be dealt with in itself since it affects more than the elections. If the chapter is truly representative, however, and the community has confidence in its responsible leadership, then the desire for a community-wide election would seem negligible. 4. Nomination-Appointment. In this method a higher administrative group appoints major superiors from a list of nominees prepared by the constituency. For example, a province (or provincial chapter) may submit a list of nominees to the administrator general and council who then appoint the provincial superiors. Or the provincial administrative group may appoint regional superiors from among nominees presented to them. The alleged advantage of this method is that the higher superior is able to look over the list of nominees and appoint an administrative team with complementary talents, a result which isn't always obtained in a direct election by the appropriate chapter. This method also reflects the authority and responsibility of the higher ad-ministrative group with respect to the smaller units of the community. The method is compromised, however, if the higher superior feels insuf-ficiently informed about the qualifications of the nominees, or is unable to en-dorse any of them with enthusiasm, or does not feel genuinely free to choose from among them. This last condition might apply, for example, if the list of nominees and the total number of votes each received is published to the com-munity at large. Then there is a subtle expectation that the major superior will 3Canon 169. For a discussion of these requirements, see Canon Law for Religious Women by Louis G. Fanfani, O.P., and Kevin D. O'Rourke, O.P. (Dubuque, Iowa: The Priory Press, 1961), pp. 91-93. Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / 379 automatically appoint the nominee ~with the highest number of votes, and the appointment becomes only the ratification of a fair accompli. Concluding Remarks Many other aspects of religious government today could be singled out for observation and study. Some of these which come to mind are the utilization of different kinds of balloting in elections (e.g., preferential ballots and weighted ballots), the respective advantages of staggered terms of office and concurrent terms, the participation of ancillary groups such as committees and commissions in the governing process, and the ways in which different units of government discharge their responsibilities (e.g., how they develop their agen-das and how they formulate and communicate policies). Moreover, in addition to the simple observation of phenomena and trends there is a need to evaluate them in the light of assumptions and principles which are acknowledged by the religious community. These espoused beliefs are of many kinds: political, sociological, philosophical, and theological, to name four important areas. This is not the place to develop a list of represen-tative assumptions and, indeed, the renewal process in communities may not have progressed far enough yet for them to be able to articulate these cor-porately. However, any in depth critique of government should deal with questions such as the nature of human persons, the role of law and structure in human life and associations, how government structures can reflect the emphasis of Vatican II on collegiality, subsidiarity,, and shared decision-making, and on the Gospel challenge to be poor, chaste, and obedient in a world which values none of these. Religious government is the point at which a religious community comes together to organize for its collective mission. Those who occupy leadership positions perform a temporary service for the others in order to facilitate that mission. Many relationships should be facilitated by a government structure: relationships of communication, of consultation, of decision-making; relationships between and among community members, community leadership, lay collaborators, Church, and world. The ideal plan of religious government is simple, clear, adapted to contemporary needs, and flexible. The government should be the point of integration of all the concerns of a com-munity, internal and external, and it exists in order to enable the community to better respond to those concerns. There is abundant evidence today that religious communities have in fact grasped the importance of adapting their government structures to these insights and that many of the changes made, and the inevitable trials-and-errors, have brought them closer to that goal. A Note on Religious Poverty J. Robert Hilbert, S.J. Father J. Robert Hilbert is presently assigned to St. Francis Mission; St. Francis, SD 57572 Introduction In many discussions of religious life, it has struck me that, of the three vows, poverty is the most difficult to come to grips with. One is tempted often enough to suspect that the fundamental problem is an unwillingness to take the direct approach of simply being poor. On the other hand, that might be a simplistic move prompted by the desire to escape the discomfort of the in-evitable tension involved in being in the world, but not of the world. There is a fundamental dilemma: poverty is either a good or it is an evil. If it is a good, if it is true that "Happy are you poor," that it really is harder for a rich man than for a poor one to enter the kingdom, then it makes sense for one to himself choose poverty and to counsel others to choose it, but it does not make sense to dedicate one's energies to the elimination of poverty. On the other hand, if poverty is evil, if it hinders man's ability to know, love and serve God, if it is destructive of the human spirit, then certainly it makes sense to work to overcome poverty, but it does not make sense to choose poverty, es-pecially to make it the object of a vow by which one expresses devotion to God. One can say that the Christian concern is not with poverty and wealth as economic or sociological realities, but is rather with poverty of spirit, a spirit which acknowledges man's basic helplessness and dependence on God, which sees man's good as a spiritual good in reference to which material possessions are either indifferent or are subservient as a means. A man who is materially wealthy may have this poverty of spirit in terms of real humility and detach-ment from his possessions, and a man materially poor may have the opposite of this spirit in terms of pride and greed. Yet one does have somehow to deal with the fact that the Gospels present Christ as saying that it is morally im-possible for a rich man to enter the kingdom, that the beatitudes, at least in 380 A Note on Religious Poverty Luke, seem to be talking about the poor and the rich in a sense that includes the material. in considering the sense of Christ's--and the Church's--call to preach the Good News to the poor, one might say of it that it is an assertion to those who are generally looked down on or who experience pain and need and helplessness that they are important to God and are loved by Him. Not that those who experience comfort, and social and mental and physical well-being are not loved, but that they are more apt to know it and so have less need of assurance than do the sufferers. Poverty in this context, one might then say, is not an economic term, but just a generi~ term for those who are needy in any way. Surely Dives is as poor and needy in a spiritual sense as Lazarus? So it is to him perhaps even more than to Lazarus that we are sent to bring the Good News. One hears arguments, too, on the point that Christ did not urge structural social change, much less work for it. Though he responded to physical needs of people on occasion, as when he fed the multitudes or healed the sick, he did not attempt the elimination of poverty or the overthrow of Roman domination any more than he attempted the elimination ~f disease or of earthquakes. Ob-viously he commanded love of neighbor and a practical expression of that love in feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, etc., but he did not preach economic or political structural reform. What manner of reflection, then, led the bishops in their 1971 Synod to say that "action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world fully appear to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the Gospel, or, in other words, of the Church's mission for the redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppressive situation?''1 (Is there a possibility that our Lord received his death sentence because his teaching and activity constituted a threat to the established social order?) This note is not an attempt to offer solutions to the difficulties and am-biguities of religious poverty, nor is it intended to touch all the elements in-volved. It is simply aimed at emphasizing a few points that seem to me to be often missed or slighted. Before taking up those, however, it might be worth recalling a few presuppositions on which these reflections are based. The Church's Poverty and Religious Poverty One is that a religious community is a community within the Church. Its way of life, its values and ideals are those of the Church. It gives particular ex-pression to certain values in a way different from the way in which other groups in the Church do, but these values are those of the whole Christian peo-ple. Religious life is to give evidence of, to point to, to make sharply visible certain aspects of what it is to be a Christian. There must, then, be continuity in the sense of poverty of religious life and the sense in which the Church speaks of its poverty. This sense, of course, comes to the Church through the ~Synod of Bishops, Justice in the World (U.S.C.C., Washington, D.C., 1972.) p. 34. 382 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 example and teaching of Christ. "Just as Christ carried out the work of redemption in poverty and under oppression, so the Church is called to follow the same path in communicating to men the fruits of salvation. Christ Jesus, 'though He was by nature God . . . emptied himself, taking the nature of a slave' (Phil 2:6), and 'being rich, he became poor' (2 Cor 8:9) for our sakes. Thus, although the Church needs human resources to carry out her mission, she is not set up to seek earthly glory, but to proclaim humility and self-sacrifice, even by her own example.''~ The Tradition of Religious Poverty Another assumption is that a religious community is both an inheritor of tradition and an interpreter of that tradition in terms of the present day. There is a long history of the practice of poverty in religious life. In the course of generations, we have developed a complex of values in the matter of poverty, including the following: detachment from material wealth; sparingness and simplicity in use of material things; possession of things in common; a life of labor; dependence on providence; hospitality; service of the poor. To some extent there is an'absoluteness in these values, aspects of them which are true in general for all men and all times. Even were there a time when the world had no drastic contrast between the rich and powerful and the poor and helpless, men would need reminders that the good life is not found in having things. "You have made all these things, made them very good indeed, yet You are my good, not they," It will always be true, as non-Christian cultures, too, realize, that man comes before God in nakedness and emp-tiness- not with reliance on possessions, nor on education, skills, achievements, nor even with security in good works as giving him in any way a claim on God; he comes to God with awareness of his own nothingness, and of God's infinite and personal love. Response to Particular Periods or Societies Beyond such timeless elements, howe, ver, values involved in religious poverty and modes of expression of that poverty are related to the contem-porary social situation of any given period. Modes of expression of religious poverty differ among various orders and in various times and places in part because religious poverty is an affirmation of values endangered by a particular period or society. !t is a prophetic witness directed to the needs of the time and place. Benedict, Francis and Ignatius had initially very different modes of poverty in their orders, not because they had different views of the fundamental and timeless values expressed in poverty, but because they were responding to the needs of the Church in different histo.rical periods. In considering renewal of religious poverty for our times and situation, ~Vatican 1 I, Dogmatic Constitution on the Church,//8. (Documents of Vatican 11. America Press, 1966, p. 23.) A Note on Religious Poverty / 383 then, it is not enough to accept the externals of the expression of poverty ac-cording to the traditions of a religious order; one must consider the values and attitudes involved, both the religious values affirmed and the worldly values opposed. Let us put this another way. Christ'.s life of poverty, it has been said, was "characterized by a redemptive use of things.''3 This is not simply an accept-ance of an ideal order of creation; it is also a recognition that there is sin-fulness embodied in the present concrete order, a non-redemptive use of things, which must be counteracted. The non-redemptive use, the sinful use, of God's creation is evil not only because it is an undue or distorted valuing of things (St. Paul speaks of "greed, which is idolatry"), but because it leads men to degrade, exploit and treat unjustly their fellow men. Poverty Is Apostolic Another presupposition is that the poverty of a religious order is not an end in itself. It is ordained to man's redemption, to the development of the Kingdom of God. Hence, there will be variation in the poverty of different g~roups according to the nature of their apostolate. Yet this subordination must not obscure the fact that poverty is really meant and is deliberately chosen. Religious poverty is not a mode of life that is in total equilibrium; it is not a way of life characterized by use of God's creation in what might be the way one would hold up as the ideal for all men in the ultimately just world order. Religious poverty is a deliberate move to the side of the poor and oppressed, an affirmation of intended identification with them. It is this because in Christ God has identified himself with them. Furthermore, religious poverty is a mode of apostolate. A religious may recognize that there are many ways of working for the attainment of man's red, emption. In the spirit of the Kingdom and Two Standards of the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius, however, he chooses to work from a position of poverty and humiliations. This is not a completely rational approach to the improve-ment of the human situation. There is a mystery in God's mode of salvation in Christ--through poverty, humiliation, injustice, eventually an unjust death on the cross. Unless there is an acceptance in faith of that mystery as still operative, there can be no full acceptance of religious poverty. l have stated four points that seem to me to enter in to reflection on religious poverty: that religious poverty is to give clear evidence to the Church's sense of poverty; that it involves a sense of the tradition of poverty throughout history; that there must be a re-statement of the spirit and tradi-tion of religious poverty in light of the sociological and cultural situation of the present day; that religious poverty is apostolic, "as Christ carried out the work of redemption in poverty and under .oppression." As I consider these points and my experience of religious life, it seems to aJohn R. Sheets, S.J., Toward a Theology of the Religious Life. (Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, II1,8; Nov., 1971, p. 173.) 384. / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 me that three areas which demand much and serious reflection in efforts at renewal are: that religious poverty must be in fundamental, radical opposition to the spirit of our affluent society, and must, then, require fundamental, radical personal conversion on the part of a religious; that contemporary con-sciousness of social injustice is integral and essential to the meaning of religious poverty and its expression in our day; that being concerned for the poor and being poor are not quite the same thing. Religious Poverty in an Affluent Society In referring to our affluent culture, what I am trying to suggest is that simply having things, being relatively wealthy in comparison to the major por-tion of the world's population is not an accidental adjunct to what we are as a people. Our material affluence is rooted in and has sprung from some of the most basic attitudes and values of our culture. In turn, our affluence reinforces and influences the development of these attitudes and values. Surrendering the right to personal ownership, professing a dependence on a superior or a com-munity for material things, even choosing a standard of economic life which eliminates certain superfluities and luxuries, does not signify or produce a very deep-rooted or wide-ranging change in the attitudes and values we have ab-sorbed since birth. It seems to me that this is the fundamental reason why it is so hard for us to come to any clear and satisfactory consensus about the meaning of religious--or Christian--poverty. So long as we consider the matter on the basis of the attitudes and values which are our cultural inheritance, there is no way we can conclude that real poverty is something which can be chosen and prized, for that culture is in diametric opposition to a spirit of poverty. In a brief article such as this, there is not scope for a full discussion of the American value system. What we are as a people, though, can be learned by reflection on our history. It was not an aberration of a few twisted individtials that brought about the centuries of enslavement of millions of Africans and In-dians. The greed, violence, lust for power, unquestioning assumption of superiority that underlay the centuries of European exploration, conquest, dominance and exploitation were not just occasional faults of isolated in-dividuals. They were part of the fundamental value system of an entire culture. Though we now repudiate some of the cruder manifestations, the same values and spirit are still endemic in Western culture, and have been incar~ nated in the social structures that our culture has established. It is not acci-dent, but basic cultural drive that has developed in this, the wealthiest country in the world, an economic and political structure which "virtually guarantees poverty for millions of Americans.''4 The greed, selfishness and exploitation of the colonial period have borne fruit, through the period of the industrial revolution and the growth of the multi-national corporations, in a world 4Poverty Amid Plenty, the report of the President's commission on income maintenance programs, 1969, p. 23. A Note on Religious Poverty / 385 economy which has created an enormous and ever increasing division between rich and poor, which threatens the human race because of the destruction of the earth's environment and resources. So the world is not one. Its peoples are more divided now, and also more conscious of their divisions, than they have ever been. They are divided between those who are satiated and those who are hungry. They a~e divided between those with power and those without power. They are divided between those who dominate and those who are dominated; between those who exploit and those who are exploited. And it is the minority which is well fed, and the minority which has secured control over the world's wealth and over their fellow men. Further, in general that minority is distinguished by the colour of their skins and by their race. And the nations in which most of that minority of the world's people live have a further distinguishing characteristic--their adoption of the Christian religion.5 What is significant is not only the fact of such division, but also our general ability to ignore that fact. How is it, after 80 years of modern social teaching and two thousand years of the Gospel of love, that the Church has to admit her inability to make more impact upon the con-science of her people?. It was stressed again and again that the faithful, particularly the more wealthy and comfortable among them, simply do not see structural social in-justice as a sin, simply feel no personal responsibility for it and simply feel no obligation to do anything about it. Sunday observance, the Church's rules on sex and marriage, tend to enter the Catholic consciousness profoundly as sin. To live like Dives with Lazarus at the gate is not even perceived as sinful.6 A concern for religious poverty which attends only to the externals of per-sonal or community economy is inadequate. If we continue to fit comfortably within the systematized greed, selfishness, cruelty, love of power of our society, we have no poverty of spirit. If we are ourselves to become Christian and to bring the Christian word to our society, we must attain an empathy with the poor and powerless in our own country and in the world. We have to feel the poverty of the migrants who harvest the food that is so plentiful on our tables. We have to know our society as it is experienced by an unemployed In-dian who sees his children growing up undernourished, falsely educated, and culturally destroyed in a country where his grandfathers lived in freedom and plenty. But once again, we have to become aware of and critical of our own ac-culturation. We must ourselves engage in that continuing education described by the bishops, an education which comes "through action, participation and vital contact with the reality of injustice." We must awaken in ourselves "a critical sense, which will lead us to reflect on the society in which we live and its values," and be "ready to renounce these values when they cease to promote justice for all men.''7 This examination will include not only our 5Julius Nyerere, Speech to the Maryknoll Sisters (Maryknoll Overseas Extension Service, Maryknoll, N.Y., p. 6). 6From an account of the debate at the 1971 Bishops' Synod, quoted in Henriot, "The Concept of Social Sin," Sourcebook on Poverty, Development and Justice, Campaign for Human Develop-ment (U.S.C.C., Wash., D.C., 1973, p. 67). 7Synod, op. cit., p. 46. 386 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 private lives, but the values incorporated in the institutions in which we work. It is necessary, for instance, to examine the basis of our judgment of produc-tivity and efficiency, our decisions about choice of means. Do we give due ac-count to the idea that we are called to follow the path of carrying out the work of redemption "in poverty and under oppression?" Abject poverty, we are told over and over again, is destructive of the human spirit, is an evil which must be eradicated, cannot be the object of a choice, certainly not of a vow, because it is an evil. True enough. But is it possible that our sense of how evil it is is to some extent a reflection of how good we think wealth is? Does our reflection on Christ's statement that it is a moral impossibility for a rich man to enter the kingdom suggest to us that perhaps wealth, too, is destructive of the human spirit, is an evil which must be eradicated? There are many ways in which the full acceptance and real valuing of religious poverty demand not simply a spirit of occasional.self-denial, but a very radical transformation of the basic values inculcated in us from birth within our society, values involved in our attitudes towards material creation, toward the meaning of human life, toward our country's position in world relationships. Addressing Social Injustice Earlier in this article 1 said that contemporary consciousness of social in-justice seems integral to our understanding of religious poverty. To some ex-tent l have introduced this idea in discussing the matter of a critical examina-tion of our values, but let me focus more directly on this point. Poverty has always been an essential of religious life--but its motivation and expression have been modified by the needs of the times. The sinful ab-surdity of the economic situation of our times is not in the fact that there are people who are poor, but in the division described by Nyerere, in the fact that the enormous and unprecedented technological, economic and political power of our times is ordered not to alleviating the plight of the poor majority of men, but to the perpetuation and increase of the imbalance of that division. The bishops recognize this situation as a claim on the Church's expression of poverty. Although in general it is difficult to draw a line between what is needed for right use and what is demanded by prophetic witness, we must certainly keep firmly to this principle: our faith demands of us a certain sparingness in use, and the Church is obliged to ad-minister its own goods in such a way that the (~ospel is proclaimed to the poor . In societies enjoying a higher level of consumer spending, it must be asked whether our life style exemplifies that sparingness with regard to consumption which we preach to others as necessary in order that so many millions of hungry people throughout the world be fed.8 8Ibid., p. 45. A Note on Religious Poverty / 387 What is that sparingness? In general, at least, "those who are already rich are bound to accept a less material ~way of life, with less waste, in order to avoid the destruction of the heritage which they are obliged by absolute justice to share with all other members of the human race.''9 Many cautions are given in discussions of religious poverty to the effect that it should not be confused with economic poverty, that religious poverty in its expression is relative to the milieu in which the community lives and works, that religious poverty is distinct from the claims of justice. Such distinctions, however, can be overdrawn to the extent that religious poverty is moved to an abstraction that has little in common with the poverty of Christ. His Kenosis was accomplished in concrete terms of real identification with the poor and ac-tual confrontation with the powerful of his times. When he said, "Happy are you who are poor," and "Alas for you who are rich," one has the impression that he was not abstracting from the economic situation. More fundamentally, Fr. Arrupe's statement deserves serious con-sideration: But God is not only the God of the poor. He is, in a real sense, God who is poor. For the mystery of the Incarnation has established a special relationship between God and pover-ty whose meaning goes much deeper than mere compassion . God is allpowerful. God has riches beyond our ability to estimate. But he is also a God of justice, who demands that justice be done. l f, then, God, allpowerful and infinitely rich, identifies Himself with the poor, it must be because the cause of the poor is somehow identified with the cause of justice?° Sparingness, for example, is fundamental to religious poverty in part as an example to all men that possessions and use of luxuries are not all that essen-tial to the quality of human life--may, in fact, hinder a man in his real development. Today there is clearly added to this motivation in the Church's consciousness the demand of some sparingness in order that justice be served. It is clear, too, that this demand goes beyond the matter of purely personal or domestic religious life to take in as well the means used in our apostolic works. If there is a demand that our society's use of energy, for example, be reduced, that reduction is called for in all aspects of our life and work. It seems to me, in short, that a level of example and witness in this regard is integral to a realistic understanding of the contemporary value of religious poverty--a poverty that is true to the Church's sense of her call to poverty, a poverty characterized by a redemptive use of things, a use redemptive of the actual sinful use of things in our day. Identification with the Sociologically Poor The Church, following the example of Christ, recognizes a particular call to showing concern for the poor and the oppressed. This call is felt with special 91bid., p. 51. 1°Pedro Arrupe, S.J., Witnessing to Justice (Pontifical Commission, Justice and Peace, Vatican, 1972), p. 38. 3~11~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 emphasis by religious, as the history of their efforts on behalf of the poor attests. The kind of assistance that is called for will vary in different periods and with different orders. In our times, there is particularly the note of concern that the structures which perpetuate and increase the division between rich and poor be changed. Even within the wealthiest country in the world, change of structures is necessary for the alleviation of widespread poverty: The paradox of poverty in the midst of plenty causes many to ask why some people re-main poor when so many of their fellow Americans have successfully joined the ranks of the affluent . It is often argued that the I~oor are to blame for their own circumstances and should be expected to lift themselves from poverty. This commission has concluded that these assertions are incorrect. Our economic and social structures virtually guarantee poverty for millions of Americans.1~ The call to concern for the poor and for working for structural changes that will ensure justice for the poor is a call to all Christians. For us who profess religious poverty, it is not only a call to have such concern and to work for such change, but to share Christ's identification with the poor. Discer.n-ment is necessary, harmfully simplistic approaches should be avoided--yet our life and mode of work should be such that our being accounted among the poor is clear. Whatever may be said of the relative norm of poverty with reference to the milieu in which a community lives and works, it should be clear that they are poor in that relative way. If it is a question for all Christians "whether belong-ing to the Church places people on a rich island within an ambient of pover-ty,''~ 2 it is preeminently a question for religious. We should share what we have, and it seems good, sometimes, that we do have in order to share. But we should be present to the poor as willing to share what little we have, not as well-to-do philanthropists sharing their excess. There is a lesson for us, though we might not wish to carry it to that extreme, in the example of St. Francis's unwillingness even to accept alms to be dis-tributed to the poor. There is, moreover, the very practical fact that it is most unlikely that we will appreciate the meaning of being truly poor, or be able really to see our society and its structures from the standpoint of the poor, if we ourselves do not in some real way share their experience. It is evident enough in our rec-tories and convents and schools that most of us share pretty completely the values and attitudes and experience and even prejudices of the affluent, not of the poor. It seems pertinent at this point to introduce a quotation from St. Ignatius Loyola which perhaps returns to the statement of my opening paragraph: ~tPoverty Amid Plenty, loc. cir. 12Synod, op. cit., p. 45. A Note on Religious Poverty Let me just say this; whoever loves poverty should be glad to be poor; glad to go hungry, to be badly clothed, to lie on a hard bed. For if someone loves poverty but avoids penury, following poverty only from afar, is that not to be comfortably poor? Surely that is to love the reputation rather than the reality of poverty; to love poverty in word but not in deed.t3 As 1 conclude this article, my sense of futility returns. If some of the honestly poor people of my acquaintance--in the slums of Milwaukee, in Belize, on the Sioux reservation where I now live--were ever to run into the sort of discussion I have written here, 1 suspect they would not find it so much the word of Christ as the confusion of one who is far from Him. 1 think it might cause some amusement, if not amazement, that a man with so much education and so many years of meditation on the Gospel can make such a complicated business out of the relatively simple question of how he can be poor. But this is written by one who lives in material security, even affluence, for others who live similarly, and so must inevitably reflect the confusion of those bound in that mesh. May that which is impossible to men, that which our own mental gyrations and personal anguish can never bring about, be accomplished by Him who can save; may He relieve us of the burden and constriction of our wealth, pull us through the eye of the needle, and introduce us to the simplicity and freedom of His Kingdom. t3Monumenta Ignatiana, Epp. l, 577. Mortification Brother Thomas E. Ruhf, C.P. Bro. Thomas E. Ruhf is.presently engaged in studies for the priesthood at St. John's University, where he was awarded a Master's Degree in Theology last year. He is a member of the Passionist Monastery; 178th St. and Wexford Terrace; Jamaica, NY 11432. The word "mortification" is seldom if ever heard these days, and, when it is, it strikes a strange and sour note because of its seeming lack of harmony with contemporary man's view of himself and his world. In a society ruled by the lords of consumerism, progressivism and utopianism, the concept of mor-tification is most assuredly an outcast. Mortification is viewed as no less than a perversion of life, since life's goal is seen to be the pursuit of happiness and self-fulfillment, which is attained in extracting from life all its treasures of pleasure and burying as much as possible its pains and sorrows. The mul-tiplication of wonders in science and technology is heralding the dawn of a new age when there will be plenty of pleasures and possessions for all, when disease and pains will be laid to rest forever, and when even death may fall victim to the march of man. To speak of death, suffering or any human limitation is to talk of problems to be solved and not perennial conditions to be fa~ed. Such a society has no use for mortification precisely because it is a radical, concrete and complete affirmation of these realities, precisely because it af-firms them as enduring conditions to be faced and embraced for their creative potentials. The problem with mortification is a problem with suffering and death, with their proper place in a full and authentic human existence. In spite of society's claims of present and future scientific and technological conquests, death, suffering and human limitations remain ever so real. Daily the media parades before our eyes the ~pectr'e.of human suf-fering- innocent children with bellies pregnant with starvation, the disfigured and bloodied corpses of victims of senseless terrorism and calculated wars, the 390 . Mortification / 39'1 sad streams of people with lives and homes ruined by the fury of natural dis-asters. At the same time the tales of polluted water and air, of shortages of oil and energy, of inflation and recession are bursting the bubble of the great American myth of the cornucopia of unending resources and limitless produc-tion. Yet modern society continues its masquerade of denial. This denial of the hard and enduring facts of death, suffering and human limitation is not without its costs, for modern man has fallen victim to a certain sense of cultural schizophrenia. It seems that the greater the claims made for man's omniscence and omnipotence, for his control over nature and life in the face of his obvious lack of it, the greater becomes his sense of personal impotence, of being victimized and fated by the forces of nature and life. As society as a whole becomes more integrated, mechanized and systematized, he as an in-dividual becomes more isolated, alienated and categorized. Sodiety's attempt to do away with all external forms of suffering and pain only serves to intensify and foster his internal suffering and pain. A Contemporary Understanding of the Problem of Suffering and Death If any concept of mortification is to be valid today, it must seek its basis in the new heightened awareness of pain and suffering not only as external world realities but also as internal personal realities. It must find its roots in a con-temporary understanding of suffering and death. Perhaps the most meaningful concept of suffering and death for today's world is the existentialist view. In such a view man is seen primarily as a being-unto- death. His very suffering and limitation become movements in con-sciousness toward the final limit of death, which brings man face to face with the fundamental questionableness of his own being without offering him any answer to it. This ultimate questionableness of life is faced by each man alone. Death represents the ultimate loneliness. All suffering, in being mine alone to bear, is essentially an experience of loneliness foreshadowing the ultimate Ioneliriess of death. Thus suffering and death give a character of existential loneliness to all life, a realization that no other finite reality can solve the basic questionableness involved in the finitude of my existence, that no finite reality can satisfy my radical desire to transcend this ultimate limit. This spectre of existential loneliness casts a long shadow of fear and anx-iety over a man's life. He can deal with this spectre in a number of ways. One way, which is most characteristic of contemporary man, is to avoid the whole question as long as possible. There is a retreat from the limits of his loneliness and death and a search for a sense of security in an immersion into th6 daily activities of pleasure and production. Indeed in America death is a taboo. The subject must never be raised, not even with a dying person. Death is always an unfortunate accident that happens to someone else. Likewise acknowledgement of a deep sense of loneliness seems awkward and inappropriate in a society.dedicated to the pursuit of pleasure and hap- 399 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 piness. Loneliness, a basic reality of life, like death, is viewed as a sickness which alienates people from each other and society and hence is an unfor-tunate development in life that must be avoided and spurned. But in fact "it is not loneliness which separates persons from others, but the terror of loneliness and the constant effort to escape it.''t If a man cannot face and affirm his ex-perience of existential loneliness as a condition of existence, he will not only be alienated from others but even from his very self. As Dr. Elisabeth K~ibler- Ross has observed in her study of terminally ill persons, nothing frustrates and alienates them more than their families' and friends' refusal to talk of suffer-ing and death. As a result Dr. K~ibler-Ross makes a plea in her book, On Death and Dying, for more people to face up to the reality of death for the sake of helping the dying and for their own sake in living real and full lives.2 Modes of Acceptance of Suffering and Death Assuredly the acceptance of suffering and death is necessary for a truly authentic and full life. However there are significantly different modes of acceptance that man has and can choose as his way of responding to these realities. Karl Rahner suggests that there are basically three postures of ac-cepting death? First of all, some see death as the stark and complete termination of all that they have found pleasureable in life. Death is a door op~ning out into dark oblivion, into the ultimate futility of all life and as such is a cause for frustra-tion and despair. Suffering is a grim foreshadowing and reminder of this ul-timate emptiness. Others embrace death with the full consciousness of their being, realizing that they have no answer to the enigma of its meaning, but yet remaining open to an answer to this ultimate questionableness of life from a source outside of themselves and time. It is a response of stoic resignation to fatedness and all suffering, leaving open the possibility that death could be a door to ultimate fulfillment as well as to ultimate annihilation. The third response goes beyond resignation, radically affirming death and all "little deaths" in suffering as doors to a life of ultimate fulfillment, as the necessary frontiers to be crossed on the way to the radical transformation of man's ex-istential situation by a gift from God. This response of acceptance is permeated by a sense of faith and hope in seeing in the very finitude of life its radical nature as free gift from the One v~ho is Infinite. This last response is of course the Christian response. We acknowledge in faith the efficacy of Christ's death and resurrection for the transformation of our own death into eternal life in God. Dying to ourselves becomes the only way to the fullness of life. Existential loneliness in suffering and death is the ~Clark E. Moustakas, Loneliness (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall Inc., 1961), p. 103. 2Elisabeth Kiibler-Ross, M.D., On Death and Dying (New York, N.Y.: Macmillian Co., 1969). p. 13. 3Karl Rahner, S.I., "The Passion and Asceticism," Theological Investigations (Baltimore, Md.: Helicon Press, 1967), v. 3, p. 92. Mortification / 393 very vehicle to authentic life since it is our only entrance into a participation in the Paschal Mystery which is the answer to the questionableness of all life. We believe that as an existential, ontological result of Christ's saving action all life can now be said to exist in a state of mortification, in a state of having already died with Christ that it may now live with him in a sharing in his resurrection. In this sense every life by way of baptism in Christ enters into a state of "ab-solute mortification."' Present Difficulty with Mortification No Christian has problems with accepting mortification as a state of life entered into in baptism, though we perhaps never consciously refer to life in Christ as mortified existence. The problem comes in the choosing of specific acts of mortification above and beyond the suffering and death inherent in the exigencies of life itself. These self-chosen acts of mortification, which have been termed "relative mortification," have for some time played a role in the tradition of Christian asceticism and been a prominent feature of religious life. But today it is a common assumption that relative mortification has no. place in authentic Christian living. In fact it has been condemned as a distortion and perversion of Christianity, and any mention of the subject evokes looks and words of scorn and disbelief. How can it be that such a long tradition of relative mortification has so suddenly been pushed aside and left to die?.llS it simply true that there is no value in practising it at all? To answer this question we must first identify and face the reasons for this rejection. There seem to be two fundamental reasons for this. First it stems from a reaction against the excessive and exclusively corporal nature of past practices of mortification. Secondly the rejection arises out of an affirmation that there is enough mortification inherent in trying to live a good Christian life of love. Certainly whenever the word "mortification" is spoken in Christian circles it immediately calls to mind a grim picture of severe corporal austerities aimed at prevention of or reparation for sin. Such practices of "attacking" the body do violence to our contemporary awareness of the sacrality of all material ex-istence. We react strongly against the Platonic dualistic view of life implicit in these practices which views the soul as imprisoned in the body and yearning for release from its evil propensities. Furthermore instead of releasing a person from his self-centeredness, these practices often enough focused concern on the self by creating an obsessive preoccupation with avoiding pleasure and con-solation in a fight to win salvation. The Christian call to turn outward from the self to Christ and his ~people in a spirit of suffering love is overshadowed by the quest for personal perfection in the conquest of temptation. Hence such prac-tices appear to have little connection with a valid Christian life. 'William J. Rewak, S.J., "Mortification," Review for Religious, May 1965, p. 374. 394 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 Inadequacy of Traditional Justifications for Mortification It certainly must be admitted that many past ascetical practices are quite justifiable on "worldly" terms alone apart from any connection with a Chris-tian view of life. Karl Rahner distinguishes three types of ascetical practices which developed independently of Christianity.5 The first type he terms moral asceticism, which uses corporal austerities as a means of self-discipline for the sake of attaining a balance of the various forces in man and thus enabling him to lead a life in harmony with the laws of his nature. Such asceticism seeks to conquer the "animality" in man so that his spirit may rule. This description would fit many of our past practices of mortification. Likewise "mystical asceticism," in using bodily self-denials as a preparation for an experience of religious enthusiasm and mystical insight, has nothing peculiarly Christian about it. The same can be said for "ritual asceticism" which also uses bodily austerities as a way to escape the profane sphere of life for the sake of contact with the transcendent. All these justifications for mortification deny the significance of Christ's Incarna;tion, deny the truth of the Word who is the flesh and blood revelation of God, who reveals the spiritual by means of th~ material. There is no prere-quisite of escape from material reality in order to find God. Contemporary Christianity has rejected past practices of mortification quite justifiably on the grounds that the reasons given for employing them had little to do with solid Christian belief. Indeed the decrees of dispensation of the Friday abstinence and of most of the Lenten fast and abstinence were viewed by many as a sort of"Emancipa-tion Proclamation" freeing Catholics from the slavery of past mortificational practices. In the ensuing exhiliration of freedom not only were the past prac-tices cast off but also the whole concept of relative mortification itself. In the name of freedom for a full human life, many could now repeat the words of James Carroll, "I have given up nothing but giving up for several Lents. I have denied myself self-denial.''6 In the same breath as was said "my work is my prayer," can be said "my life is my mortification." The Search for Enduring Values Yet with all this freedom from the past there seems to be a budding sense of frustration and emptiness. There is a growing awareness that in rejecting past practices we have neglected real values that were inherent in them though covered by distortions. A renewed emphasis on contemplation, solitude, and just plain "wasting time" is finding its way back into Christian literature. These concerns are arising not out of a sense of fear of the modern world and an attempt to hold onto the past but out of the faithfulness to one's own being and the call of need from others. There is a new movement beyond the 5Rahner, op. cit., pp. 60-66. 6James Carroll, "Mortification for Liberation," National Catholic Reporter. December 10, 197 I, p. 10. MortiJi'cation / 39~i smashing of past idolized practices to searching for the foundations of the en-during values and treasures of the Church. The present times demand that we be honest with ourselves. We must ad-mit that our work has not really become our prayer nor our living of life a full realization of the spirit of mortification. As Saint Paul so clearly stresses in the ninth chapter of his letter to the Corinthians, there is more to fighting the good fight and running the good race than the contests themselves. Any good athlete spends much time in preparation for the contest in rigorous discipline and training. Just because we find our exercises for the contest to be inade-quate it does not necessarily follow that all exercises are fruitless. What more appropriate time is there for re-examining and reassessing our own commit-ment to and training for the contests of life than now in this Holy Year of renewal and reconciliation with its special focus on personal, interior renewal? Necessity of Re-affirming the Value of Mortification From our discussion of the possible reactions to the experience of suffering and death, it is clear that total acceptance and creative affirmation of them in hope is not man's natural, spontaneous response. The mere acceptance of suf-fering and death as inevitable and a willingness to face it as it comes along is not enough in view of the Christian's radical call to affirm and give himself fully to these realities. If these "contests" are seen to hold out to every man the prize of the very meaning of all life, then they are not simply "contests" which we resign ourselves to entering, but "contests" to be trained and prepared for. A spontaneous response of faith and hope in the face of suffering and death springs from a person who has already radically affirmed these realities in the actions of his own life. The way a person affirms any values in his life is by means of the actions he freely chooses. It would seem that self-chosen acts of self-denial affect the depths of a person in a very special way that fate-imposed

Issue 23.6 of the Review for Religious, 1964. ; Communications Media by Vatican Council II 689 Religious Life by Paul VI 698 Matthew, Chapter 19 by Lucien Legrand, M.E.P. 705 Chastity and Psychosexual Developmen.t by Richard P. Vaughan, S.J. 715 Psychosexual Development in Religious Life by Richard A. McCormick, S.J. 724 Means of Aggiornamento by Brother Philip Harris, O.S.F. 742 Sacraments--Consecrations and Dedications by Clarence R. McAuliffe, S.J. 750 Reflections of a Student-Brother by David A. Fleming, S.M. 761 The Art of Smal! Talk by Sister Rose Alice, S.S.J. 766 Religious Poverty by Paul J. Bernadicou, S.J. 770 Survey of Roman Documents 779 Views, News, Previews 785 Questions and Answers 788 Book Reviews 796 Indices for 1964 811 VOLUIHE 23 Nu~m~.R 6 November 1964 VATICAN COUNCIL II Decree on Communications Media PAUL BISHOP THE SERVANT OF THE SERVANTS OF GOD TOGETHER WITH THE FATHERS OF THE COUNCIL FOR A PERPETUAL RECORD OF THE MATTER 1. Among* the remarkable discoveries of technology which human intelligence especially in modern times has been able to make with the help of God, the Church gives a special welcome and importance to those which are principally concerned with men's minds and which have opened up new ways of easily communicating every kind of news, ideas, and principles. Outstanding among these discoveries are those media (such as the press, movies, radio, television, and the like) which of their nature are able to reach and influence not only individuals but also the masses and the whole of society. For this reason these media can rightfully be called the means of social com-munication. 2. The Church recognizes that these media, if they are rightly used, can be of the greatest service to the hu-man race since they contribute greatly to human recrea-tion and formation and to the spread and strengthening of the kingdom of God. But she also realizes that men can use these media in a way which is contrary to the plan of the Creator and can turn them to their own loss. More-over, she experiences a mother's sorrow at the harm which * The official Latin text of this decree (which begins with the words Inter rairilica) is given in dcta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 56 (1964), pp. 145-57. Paragraph enumeration in the translation is taken from the original text. Vatican Council I1 VOLUME 23, 1964 689 ÷ Vatican Cour~il !1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has too often resulted for human society from the wrong use of these media. Therefore, this Council, continuing the watchful care given by popes and bishops to this important matter, judges that it is its duty to deal with the principal ques-tions connected with the media of social communication. It trusts, moreover, that the teaching and directives it proposes will contribute not only to the salvation of the faithful but also to the progress of the entire human community. CHAPTER I 3. Since the Catholic Church was instituted by Christ our Lord to bring salvation to all men and is therefore under an urgent obligation to preach the gospel, she considers it to be a part of her duty to proclaim the good news of salvation by means of these media of social communications and to instruct men about their proper use. The Church, therefore, has a natural right to use and possess every type of these media insofar as they are necessary or useful for Christian education and for the work of saving souls; and it is the duty of the bishops to so train and direct the faithful that by the help of these media they may attain their own salvation and per-fection as well as that of the entire human family. On the other hand, it is the special concern of the laity to imbue these media with that humane and Chris-tian spirit which will make them fully correspond to the high expectations of the human race and to the divine plan. 4. For the right use of these media, it is absolutel~ necessary that those who use them should know the norms of the moral law and should conscientiously apply them to this area of activity. Accordingly, they should consider the matter which is communicated according to the special nature of each medium. Moreover, they must take into account all the conditions and circumstances of the purposes, persons, places, times, and so forth under which communication takes place and which can influence or' even change its morality. Among these elements there is to be included the special way in which each of thesel media works, since this is a force which can be so great that human beings, especially if they are unprepared, can' find it difficult to notice; control, and, if necessary, re-j( ct it. 5. Abbve all, however, it is necessary that all con~ cerned in the matter should form a correct conscien~ with regard'to the use of these media and especially with respect to dertain questions that are keenly discussed in our time. The first of these questions is concerned with what is termed "information"--the gathering and dissemina-tion of news. It is certainly clear that this has become a very useful and for the most part a necessary activity because of the progress of human society and the greater closeness of its members. The speedy and public com-munication of events and ,happenings provides each individual with a fuller and steady knowledge of these matters; in this way all men can contribute effectively to the common good and can assist in the further progress of civil society. Therefore, in human society there is a right to information about matters which, each in its own way, concern individual men or society. The cor-rect exercise of this right, however, requires that what is communicated should always be true and, within the bounds of justice and love, complete. Besides, the way in which it is communicated must be proper and decent; in other words, both in the gathering and divul-gation of news, moral law !and the legitimate rights and dignity of man must bei respected: not all knowl-edge is profitable and "charity builds up character" (1 Cor 8:1). 6. The second question is concerned with the rela-tionship between what are termed the rights of art and the norms of the moral law. ~Since the growing contro-versies in this matter not infrequently originate from false notions about ethics and esth~etics, the Council decrees that all must hold in an absolute way the primacy of the objective moral law which of itself surpasses and properly coordinates all other levels of human affairs, whatever their dignity and including the level of art. Only the moral order attains to man in his entire nature as a ra-tional creature of God called to a supernatural goal; and only it, if it be completely and faithfully observed, leads man to the full possession of perfection and hap-piness. 7. Finally, the narration, description, or representation of evil by means of the media of social communication can genuinely contribute to a profounder knowledge of man; and by means of appropriate dramatic contrast, it can serve to manifest and exalt the greatness of truth and goodness. Nevertheless, in order to prevent harm rather than profit coming from this, the moral law must be obeyed especially in the case of matters which require a reverent treatment or which can easily arouse evil desires in man wounded as he is by original sin. 8. Since at the present time public opinion wields the greatest influence and power on the private and public life of all classes of society, it is necessary that all members of society should fulfill their obligations of justice and love in this area; accordingly, they should + + + Communications Media VOLUME 2;1, 1964 69! Vatican Council I1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 692 t strive to form and spread correct public opinion by means of these communications media. 9. Special obligations bind all the readers, viewers, and listeners who by their personal and free choice re-ceive the communications made by these media. Correct choice demands that they give their full support to those presentations which are distinguished for their moral, intellectual, and artistic content; moreover, they should avoid those presentations which might be for them a cause or an occasion of spiritual harm or which can lead others into danger through bad example or which hinder good presentations and promote bad ones. This last frequently happens when payment is made to those who employ communications media only for financial returns. To carry out the moral law, those who receive these communications have a duty not to omit finding out in due time the judgments that have been made by those competent in the area; likewise, they must not negle.ct to follow these judgments in accord with the norms of a correct conscience. And in order that they may more easily resist less correct inducements and give their full support to what is good, they should take care to guide and form their consciences by suitable means. 10. Those who receive these communications--espe-cially young people--should take care that they accustom themselves to moderation and self-control in the use of these media. Moreover, they should endeavor to gain a thorough knowledge of what .they see, hear, and read; they should discuss these matters with their teachers and with those expert in the particular field and thus learn to pass a correct judgment on them. Parents should be mindful of their duty to take watchful care that shows, publications, and so forth that are opposed to faith and morality do not enter the home and do not reach their children elsewhere. 11. The principal moral responsibility with regard to the right use of the media of social communication falls on journalists, writers, actors, s~enarists, producers, ex-hibitors, distributors, operators, sellers, critics, and all others who play any part in making and presenting these communications. It is evident and clear that in the, present condition of mankind all of these have serious: responsibilities since they can shape and form men and thereby lead them either to good or to evil. It is the duty of these persons, then, to take care of the financial, political, and artistic aspects of communication without opposing the common good. For the easier achievement of this, it will be worthwhile for them tO join professional associations which enjoin (if necessary~ by means of an accepted code of morality) on their mere+ bers respect for the moral law in the activities and tasks of their craft. Moreover, they should always remember that a great part of their readers and audiences is composed of young people who need writing and entertainment which offers them decent recreation and draws their minds to the higher things of culture. They should also take care that communications in the area of religion should be entrusted to competent and experienced persons and that they should be carried out with due respect. 12. Civil authority has special obligations in this matter by reason of the common good to which these media are ordered. In accord with its role, civil authority has the duty to defend and safeguard that due and just freedom of information which, especially in the case of the press, is a reaI necessity for the progress of today's society; it is likewise its duty to foster religion, culture, and the fine arts; and it should safeguard those who re-ceive the communications so that they can freely enjoy their legitimate rights. Moreover, it is the duty of civil authority to aid those projects which could not otherwise be undertaken even though they ar~ highly beneficial, especially to young people. Finally, this same public authority, since it is legiti-mately concerned with the welfare of its citizens, is bound by the obligation to pass and enforce laws whereby due and vigilant care is taken that serious harm does not come to public morals and to the progress of society by the bad use of these communications media. This watch-ful care in no way restricts the freedom of individuals and of groups, especially if there is a lack o[ adequate precaution on the part of those who are professionals in the field of these communications media. Special care should be taken to safeguard young people from printed matter and performances which may be harmful at their age. CHAPTER II 13. All the members of the Church should make a strenuous, common effort to take immediate steps to put the media of social communications into effective use in the multiple works of the apostolate as circumstances of place and time allow. They should anticipate harmful projects, especially in those regions where moral and religious progress requires a greater amount of zeal. Hence bishops should be quick to carry out their duties in this area which is so closely connected with their ordinary work of preaching. Likewise, the laity who are engaged in the use of these media should concern them-selves with witnessing to Christ, first of all by performing their duties competently and in an apostolic spirit, and 4" 4" 4- Communications Media VOLUME 23, 1964 693 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 69,t then by directly assisting the pastoral activity of the Church to the best of their technical, economic, cultural, and artistic abilities. 14. First of all, a good press should be fostered. To fully imbue readers with a Christian spirit, a truly Catholic press should be begun and promoted. This press--fostered and directed either directly by ecclesiasti-cal authority or by Catholic laymen--should be pub-lished with the manifest purpose of shaping, strengthen-ing, and fostering public opinion that is in harmony with natural law and with Catholic doctrine; it should also publicize and correctly explain events which pertain to the life of the Church. The faithful should be reminded of the need to read and spread the Catholic press in order that a Christian judgment on all events may be formed. Effective encouragement and support should be given to the production and showing of films that genuinely contribute to proper recreation and to culture and art, especially when they are destined for young people. This will be especially achieved by assisting and joining enterprises and projects for the making and distributing of good films, by commending worthwhile films through critical approval and through awards, and by fostering and consociating theatres of Catholics and other men of principle. Similar effective support should be extended to good radio and television programs, especially those that are suitable for the family. Catholic programs should be earnestly fostered, for in them the listeners and viewers are led to participate in the life of the Church and hre imbued with religious truths. Where necessary, care should be taken to inaugurate Catholic stations; but pro-vision must be made that their programs are outstanding by reason of their excellence and effectiveness. Moreover, measures should be taken that the noble and ancient art of the stage, which is now seen everywhere by means of the media of social communication, should tend to the cultural and moral improvement of its audiences. 15. To provide for the needs just enumerated, proper training should be given to priests, religious, and laymen who have the necessary abilities to adapt these media to apostolic purposes. In particular, laymen should be given an artistic, doc-trinal, and moral training. Hence, there should be an increase in schools, departments, and institutes where journalists, writers for films, radio, and television, and other such persons can secure a complete formation im-bued with the Christian spirit especially with regard to the social doctrine of the Church. Actors are also to be trained and educated so that by their art they may contribute to society. Finally, great care must be taken to prepare literary, film, radio, television, and other critics who will be highly skilled in their own fields as well as equipped with the training and inspiration to give judgments in which morality is shown in its proper light. 16. Since the media of social communication involve the participation of audiences of different ages and backgrounds, the proper use of these media requires the proper education and training of these audiences. Ac-cordingly, in Catholic schools of whatever level, in semi-naries, and in apostolic lay groups, support should be given to projects geared to achieve this purpose, especially if they are destined for young people. Such projects should be increased in number and should be directed according to the principles of Christian morality. To facilitate this, Catholic teaching and directives in this matter should be set forth and explained in catechism classes. 17. It is entirely unfitting that the Church's children should permit the word of salvation to be bound and impeded by the technical delays and expenses--great as they are--that are characteristic of these media. Hence, this Council reminds the faithful of their obligation to support and aid Catholic newspapers, magazines, film projects, and radio and television stations, the purpose of all of which is to spread and defend truth and to provide for the Christian instruction of human society. At the same time, this Council invites groups and individuals possessing great influence in financial and technical mat-ters to use their resources and experience to freely give generous support to these media insofar as they contribute to genuine culture and to the apostolate. 18. In order that the multiform apostolate of the Church with regard to communications media be effec-tively strengthened, in every diocese of the world ac-cording to the judgment of the bishops, there should be an annual day during which the faithful are instructed about their duties in this matter, are invited to pray for this cause, and are asked to make an offering to be conscientiously used for the support and development of the projects and undertakings which the Church has begun in this area in accord with the needs of the Catholic world. 19. In the carrying out of his supreme pastoral charge with regard to communications media, the supreme pontiff has available a special section of the Holy See.1 t Moreover, the fathers of the Council, gladly acceding to the re-quest of the Secretariat for the Supervision of Press and Entertain-ment, respectfully request the supreme pontiff to extend the re-sponsibility and competency of this section to all the media of Communications Media ¯ VOLUME 23, 1964 695 CouFnadtilc aI1n REVIEW,FORRELIG[OUS 696~ 20. It will be the responsibility of the bishops to watch over this kind of projects and undertakings in their own dioceses; they should promote such projects and, as far as the public apostolate is concerned, they should regulate them including those under the direction of exempt religious. 21. Since an effective national apostolate requires unity in planning and in resources, this Council de-crees and orders that national offices for press, film, radio, and television be everywhere established and promoted by every means. The special work of these offices will be to take measures that the conscience of the faithful be correctly formed with regard to the use of these media and to foster and direct whatever is done by Catholics in this area. In each country the direction of these offices is to be entrusted to a special committee of bishops or to a single delegated bishop; moreover, laymen who are ex-perts in Catholic doctrine and in these media should have a role in these offices. 22. Moreover, since the effectiveness of these media reaches beyond national boundaries and affects almost every member of the entire human race, the national of-rices begun in this area should cooperate among them-selves on an international level. The offices mentioned in number 21 should work effectively with their corre-sponding international Catholic associations. These in-ternational Catholic associations are legitimately ap-proved only by the Holy See and depend on it. CONCLUSIONS 23. In order that all the principles and norms of this Council with regard to communications media be put into effect, the Council expressly orders that a pas-toral instruction be issued by the section of the Holy See mentioned in number 19 with the help of experts of various countries. 24. Moreover, this Council is confident that its state-ment of directives and norms will be gladly accepted and conscientiously followed by all the members of the Church who accordingly in their use of these media will suffer no harm but, like salt and light, will savor the earth and enlighten the world. Moreover, the Council invites all men of good will, especially those who have charge of these media, to endeavor to use these media only for the good of human society, the fate of which more and more depends on the right use of such media. In this way, as was the case with ancient works of art, so also communication including the press and to include in its membership experts, including laymen, from 'various countries. through these new discoveries the name of the Lord will be glorified according to the saying of the Apostle: "Jesus Christ, yesterday, and today, and the same for-ever" (Heb 13:8). Each and every one of the matters set Iorth ~n this Decree were decided by the lathers o[ the Council. And We, by the apostolic power given Us by ChriJt, together with the venerable fathers, approve in the Holy Spirit, decree, enact, and order to be promulgated what has been decided in this Synod [or the glory o[ God. Given at Rome in St. Peter's on December 4, 1963. 4. 4. 4. Communications Media VOLUME 2.~ 1964 697 PAUL VI Allocution on Religious Life ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Beloved sons: With* great joy and no small hope We look upon you who are the chosen and authoritative group of venerable and illustrious religious families; it is a matter of de-light to Us to give you Our warmest greetings and to express to you the high opinion We have of you as well as Our gratitude to you. You have come to Rome to hold the general chapters of your respective institutes; although this is a matter that primarily affects your order or congregation, still it also has repercussions on the life of the Church, which derives a great part of her vigor, apostolic zeal, and ardor for holiness from the flourishing condition of re-ligious life. Moreover, you have come to Us not only as devoted and loving sons to offer your homage to the Vicar of Christ but also to request the apostolic blessing on your-selves, your institutes, and the affairs of your chapters from which you rightly trust there will come salutary results such that the religious life will be led more in-tensely and more ardently. Although We would have gladly met each of your groups separately and would have addressed each of them in accord with its own characteristics and needs, still We have chosen to receive all of you at the same ¯ On May 23, 1964, Paul VI gave an allocution to the superiors general and the capitulars general of various religious orders and con-gregations of men. The text of the allocution (entitled Magno gaudio) is given in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 56 (1964), pp. 565-71. Except for the opening and closing paragraphs (which were translated by a staff member of the REWEW), the translation is by the Very Reverend Godfrey Poage, C.P.; Director, Pontifical Office for Religious Voca-tions; Piazza Pio XII, 3; Rome, Italy. The translation first appeared in the Newsletter of the Pontifical Office for Religious Vocations, n. 13 (September, 1964). time. This We have done in order to give greater weight to this speech made to you in common; We did this all the more readily since on this occasion We wish to set forth matters which pertain to all religious of the entire world. First of all, We wish to note the great importance of religious institutes and assert that their work is wholly necessary for the Church in these days. Admittedly, the doctrine of the universal vocation of all the faithful to holiness of life (regardless of their position or social situ-ation) has been advanced very much in modern times. This is as it should be, for it is based on the fact that all the faithful are consecrated to God by their baptism. Moreover, the very necessities of the times demand that the fervor of Christian life should inflame souls and radi-ate in the world itself. In other words, the needs of the times demand a consecration of the world; and this task pertains preeminently to the laity. All these developments are unfolding under the counsel of Divine Providence, and that is why We rejoice over such salutary undertak-ings. But for this very reason we must be on our guard lest the true notion of religious life, as it has traditionally flourished in the Church, should become obscured. We must beware lest our youth, becoming confused while thinking about their choice of a state of life, should be thereby hindered in some way from having a clear and distinct vision of the special function and immutable importance of the religious state within the Church. Accordingly, it has seemed good to Us to recall now the priceless importance and necessary function of religious life. For this stable way of life, which receives its proper character from profession of the evangelical vows, is a perfect way of living according to the example and teach-ing of Jesus Christ. It is a state of life which keeps in view the constant growth of charity and its eventual fulfill-ment; and it is to be preferred before any other kind of life, before temporal duties, lawful in themselves, no mat-ter how useful they may be. Right now it is of supreme importance for the Church to bear witness socially and publicly. Such witness is pro-claimed by the way of life in religious institutes. And the more it is stressed that the laity must live and propa-gate the Christian life in the world, so much the more must they be given the shining example of those who have in truth renounced the world and have clearly shown that "the kingdom of Christ is not of this world." 1 Thus the profession of the evangelical vows is a super-addition to that consecration which is proper to bap-tism. It is indeed a special consecration which perfects See Jn 18:~6. 4" 4. 4- Religious Li~e VOLUME" 23, 1964 699 Paul REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the former one, inasmuch as by it the follower of Christ totally commits and dedicates himself to God, thereby making his entire life a service to God alone. Now all this leads to another point, which We wish to stress with paternal solicitude. The vows of religion must be held in the highest esteem and the greatest importance must be placed on their function and practice. Only in this manner will religious be able to lead a life that is becoming and in harmony with the state they have em-braced--- a state they have freely chosen; only in this way will their state of life efficaciously help them progress toward the perfection of charity; and only in this way will the faithful see in them an example of the perfect Chris-tian life and be inspired to follow it. Although living conditions have greatly changed in recent years and the practice of the religious life has neces-sarily been modified, nevertheless the evangelical counsels have not changed and of their very nature retain their full force and cannot in any way be weakened. Accordingly, religious should cultivate obedience with the greatest diligence. This is and must remain a holo-caust of one's own will which is offered to God. A re-ligious makes this sacrifice of self by humble submission to lawful superiors, whose authority, of course, should always be exercised within the limits of charity and with due respect for the dignity of the human person, even though nowadays religious have to undertake many more burdensome offices and carry out their duties more quickly and more willingly. There must also be inculcated a love of poverty, about which there is a great deal of discussion in the Church today. Religious must surp~iss all others by their example of true evangelical poverty. Therefore, they must love that poverty to which they have spontaneously committed themselves. It is not enough for religious to depend merely on the superior's decision with regard to their use of material things. Let religious of their own will be content with the things that are needed for properly ful-filling their way of life, shunning those little extras and luxuries which weaken the religious life. Then besides the poverty proper to the individual religious we must not neglect the corporate poverty which should distin-guish the institute or the whole body of religious. Thus they should avoid excessive ornamentation in their build-ings and elaborate functions, as well as anything else that savors of luxury, always bearing in mind the social con-dition of the people among whom they live. Let them also refrain from excessive concern in gathering funds, but give their attention rather to using what temporal goods Divine Providence will provide for the assistance of their needy brethren, who may live in their own country or in other parts of the world. Finally, religious must preserve chastity as a treasured gem. Everybody knows that in the present condition of human society the practice of perfect chastity is made difficult not only by a depraved moral atmosphere but also by a false teaching which poisons souls by overem-phasis on nature. An awareness of these facts should impel religious to stir up their faith more energetically--that same faith by which we believe the declarations of Christ when He proclaims the supernatural value of chastity that is sought for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. It is this same faith which assures us beyond doubt that, with the help of divine grace, we can preserve unsullied the flower of chastity. To attain this end there should be a more diligent practice of Christian mortification and of custody of the senses. Never under the specious pretext of acquiring wider knowledge or a broader culture should religious read unbecoming books or papers or attend in-decent shows. An exception might perhaps be made if there is a proven need for such studies, but the reasons alleged must be carefully examined by religious superiors. In a world subject to so many impure suggestions the value of the sacred ministry depends in great measure upon the light of chastity which radiates from one conse-crated to God and strong with His strength. It is quite evident that the proper way of living re-ligious life requires discipline. There must be laws and suitable conditions for observing them. Therefore, the principal task of the general chapter is, as time goes on, to keep intact those norms of the religious family which were set up by its founder and lawgiver. Therefore, it is the responsibility of the capitulars to check firmly all those modes of conduct which gradually devitalize the strength of religious discipline; namely, practices which are dangerous to religious life, unnecessary dispensations, and privileges not properly approved. They must likewise gtiard against any relaxation of discipline which is urged not by true necessity but by arrogance of spirit or aversion to obedience or love of worldly things. Moreover, with respect to undertaking new projects or activities they must refrain from taking on those which do not entirely correspond to the principal work of the institute or to the mind of the founder. For religious institutes will flourish and prosper so long as the integral spirit of their founder continues to inspire their rule of life and apostolic works, as well as the actions and lives of their members. Religious commnnities, inasmuch as they resemble liv-ing bodies, rightly desire to experience continual growth. However, this growth of the institute must be based firmly on the more diligent observance of the rules rather ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li~e VOLUME 23, 1964 701 ÷ Paul ~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS than on the number of members or the making of new laws. Multiplicity of laws is not always accompanied by progress in religious life. It often happens that the more rules there are, the less people pay attention to them. Therefore, let the general chapters always use their right to make laws moderately and prudently. The most important work of the general chapter is the studied accommodation of the rules of the institute to the changed conditions of the times. This, however, must be done in such a way that the proper nature and discipline of the institute are kept intact. Every religious family has its proper function, and it must remain faithful to this role. The fruitfulness of the institute's life is based on this fidelity to its specific purpose, and in this manner an abundance of heavenly graces will never be lacking. Therefore, no renovation of discipline is to be introduced which is incompatible with the nature of the order or congregation and which, in any way, departs from the mind of the founder. Moreover, this renovation of dis-cipline demands that it proceed only from competent authority. Accordingly, until this accommodation of dis-cipline is duly processed and brought into juridic effect, let the religious members not introduce anything new on their own initiative, nor relax the restraints of discipline, nor give way to censorious criticism. Let them act in such a way that they might rather help and more promptly effect this work of renewal by their fidelity and obedience. If the desired renovation takes place in this way, then the letter of the rule will have changed, but the spirit will have remained the same. In bringing about this renewal of religious institutes, the primary concern of the capitulars must always be the spiritual life of the members. Wherefore, to all religious whose duty it is to devote themselves to works of the sacred ministry, We state that We are entirely opposed to anyone espousing that false opinion which claims that primary concern must be given to external works and only secondary attention devoted to the interior life of perfection, as though this were demanded by the spirit of the times anal the needs of the Church. Zealous activity and the cultivation of one's interior life should not bring any harm to each other; indeed, they require the closest union, in order that both may ever proceed with equal pace and progress. Therefore, let zeal for prayer, the beauty of a pure conscience, patience in adversity, active and vibrant charity devoted to the salva-tion of souls, increase in union with fervent works. When these virtues are neglected, not only will apostolic labor lack vigor and fruitfulness, but the spirit also will grad-ually lose fervor. As a consequence, the religious will not be able to avoid for long the dangers which lie hidden in the very performance of the sacred ministry. With respect to that portion of the apostolate which is entrusted to the care of religious, We wish to make some further observations. Religious institutes should sedulously adapt the work proper to their apostolates to modern conditions and circumstances. The younger re-ligious particularly are to be instructed and educated properly in this matter, but in such a way that the apos-tolic zeal with which they are inflamed does not remain circumscribed exclusively by the boundaries of their own group, but rather opens outwardly toward the great spiritual necessities of our times. Nor is this enough. For while being educated along the lines We have indi-cated, they should also cultivate an exquisite sensitivity to their duties by force of which, both in words and deeds, they will constantly show themselves as true ministers of God, distinguished by soundness of doctrine and recom-mended to the people by holiness of life. However, in these matters let not the religious be left solely to their own initiative, since their work must always be subject to the vigilance of superiors, especially if it is a matter of work that has notable relevance to civil life. It is of the greatest concern to Us that the work of the members of religious institutes should go along harmoni-ously with the norms established by the sacred hierarchy. As a matter of fact, the exemption of religious orders is in no conflict whatsoever with the divinely given constitu-tion of the Church, by force of which every priest, par-ticularly in the performance of the sacred ministry, must obey the sacred hierarchy. For the members of these re-ligious institutes are at all times and in all places subject principally to the Roman Pontiff, as to their highest superior.~ For this reason the religious institutes are at the service of the Roman Pontiff in those works which pertain to the welfare of the universal Church. With regard to the exercise of the sacred apostolate in various dioceses religious are under the jurisdiction of bishops, to whom they are bound to give assistance, al-ways without prejudice to the nature of their proper apostolate and the things that are necessary for their re-ligious life. From all this it is quite evident how much the allied and auxiliary ministry of the religious given to the diocesan clergy conduces to the good of the Church, when their united forces result in more vigorous and more effective action. From these brief observations you now know what We consider most important for the growth of religious life in our times. May all these remarks show you with what ~ C. 499, § 1. ÷ ÷ ÷ Religiom Liye VOLUME 23, 19(~4 703 solicitude We view and esteem religious life and what great hope We put in your helpful work. The road which We have pointed out tO you is certainly difficult and ardu-ous. But lift up your souls in hope, for the cause is not ours but that of Jesus Christ. Christ is our strength, our hope, our power. He will be with us always. Continue to diffuse the good odor of Christ as widely as possible by the in-tegrity of your faith, by the holiness of your lithe, by your great zeal for all the virtues. Meanwhile, as We thank you for your obedience, We pray God through the interces-sion of the blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, the fos-tering mother of religious virtues, that religious institutes may continue to grow daily and bear ever richer and more salutary fruits. A pledge of these truths will be Our apostolic blessing which We bestow in all charity on each of you, beloved sons, and on all your colleagues. Paul ¥1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~04 LUCIEN LEGRAND, M.E.P. Matthew, Chapter. 9, and the Three Vows In Matthew 19 and in Mark 10:1-31, we find in suc-cession the three pericopes on divorce, on the little children, and on the rich young man. They would perfectly illustrate a talk on the three religious vows. In Matthew, the first section ends in a call to virginity (Mt 19:11 f.); the second one extols the spirit of humility and of spiritual childhood which corresponds to the vow of obedience; the third part deals with poverty. Would this application correspond to the thought of the evange-lists? If so, what light would it cast on the value and the significance of the three vows of perfection? Matthew 19 and the Kingdom It is clear that originally the three sections must have circulated independently in the early Christian com-munities. Their grouping belongs to the later stage of the redaction of the written Gospels. The evangelists blocked these three passages together because they found in them a common theme. Now, in the text of Mark, it is difficult to trace any common idea that would con-nect the three sections. Vincent Taylor sees some kind of topical arrangement: "After a story about marriage, it seemed fitting to record an incident regarding chil-dren." 1 Then the episode of the rich man is linked up with the previous two on account of the "Evangelist's interest in the Kingdom and in teaching abbut sacrifice and renunciation." 2 In point of fact, both suggestions are questionable. Taylor must have spoken with his tongue in his cheek when suggesting that the topic of the children follows logically that of marriage; this is better a joke than an argument, for the standpoint under which children are considered has nothing to do with 1 Vincent Taylor, The Gospel according to St. Mark (London: Macmillan, 1955), p. 422. ~ Taylor, St. Mark, p. 422. ÷ ÷ ÷ Lucien Legrand, M.E.P., is professor of Sacred Scripture at St. Peter's Semi-nary; Banga!ore 12, India. VOLUME 23, 1964 7.05 ÷ Lucien Legrand, M.E.P . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS marriage: they are not mentioned as offspring but as an example of a psychological and spiritual attitude. And as regards the observation that the three pericopes in Mark 10:1-31 are connected by a common interest in the theme of the kingdom, it should be noticed that, though this theme is actually referred to in the second (Mk 10:14 f.) and in the third section (10:23-25), it does not appear in the first part which, in Mark, deals with the question of marriage and divorce, a problem of ethics pertaining to the present world rather than to the king-dom. One has to turn to Matthew to verify entirely the suggestion of Taylor. It is in Matthew rather than in Mark that the three stories are connected by a common interest in the theme of the kingdom (Mt 19:12, 14~ 23 f.). Incidentally, this strengthens the case for a priority of Matthew in this section: the redaction of Matthew explains the present grouping of the pericopes; that of Mark cannot be explained as it stands: the text of Mark represents one more case of summary which in fact was largely a mutilation.~ Anyway, it is in the redaction of Matthew that the theological line is more clearly brought out. In Matthew, the grouping of the three pericopes was obviously deliberate: the evangelist focused his chapter neatly on the theme of the kingdom and the three pronouncement stories illustrate three ways of living "in view of the kingdom." For Matthew, celibacy, spiritual childhood, and poverty point to the kingdom. But in which sense exactly? How are these three attitudes related to the kingdom? To answer this question, we have now to consider the three pericopes separately; and since they happen to be ~ound in order of decreasing difficulty, we shall proceed back-wards from the third section to the first one; that is, from the clearest to the most enigmatic pronouncement. The Poor and the Kingdom The third part of Matthew 19 begins with the episode of the rich young man who comes to Jesus to ask Him how he can gain eternal life. Jesus first replies by simply 8 The case for a priority of Mt or at least of a proto-Mt has been ably argued by L. Vaganay, Le problOme synoptique (Paris-Tournai: Desclfie, 1954), pp. 51-85. Concerning the present passage, Vaganay shows that the saying on the eunuchs, though missing in both Mk and Lk, belonged to the source common to the three synoptics. Mk and Lk knew it but omitted it for stylistic reasons on account of its strong Se~nitic flavor that would have been unpalatable to Hellenistic audiences (p. 167; see pp. 211, 216). A more elaborate examination of the text may be found in our study on The Biblical Doctrine o] Virginity (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), pp. 38-40. recalling the main points of the Torah: "If you wish to enter life, observe the commandments" (v. 17). Then, upon a further question of the man, Jesus opens new prospects: "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell all that you possess." (v. 21). Beyond the ordinary walk of life, there is the possibility of becoming "perfect,'.' of joining the special, group of those who follow Jesus more closely. As it is narrated in Matthew, the episode implies the existence of two categories of disciples: the mass of those who do the essential by fulfilling the Law and the elite of the teleioi, the "perfect" who practice total renuncia-tion. Now, when the other two synoptic Gospels are com-pared with Matthew (Mk 10:17-22; Lk 18:18-23), they show a few slight verbal differences which eventually alter the meaning of the episode appreciably. First they do not speak of the "perfect": according to them, the man is not invited to join a particular group distinct from the others. Secondly, in the beginning of Jesus' reply, they do not have the words: "If you want to have eternal life, ob-serve the commandments." Their text does not suggest that the observance of the Law can lead to eternal life. Indeed, Jesus says according to Mark (v. 21) and Luke (v. 22)--and these words are not to be found in Matthew --"one thing is still lacking" to obtain eternal life: it is total renunciation. The overall picture is therefore quite different in Matthew on the one hand and in the other two synopo tics on the other side. Matthew knows two kinds of disciples: the "perfect" and the others; both, in their own way, can eventually reach eternal life. Mark and Luke on the contrary know two stages through which any disciple must pass: the first stage, that of the obedi-ence to the Law, is rather negative; common with the Old Testament, it represents a necessary but insufficient requirement. Beyond that, the disciple has to reach a higher level, that of utter dispossession of self. This divergence of outlook is confirmed by another detail. In Mark and Luke, the man who comes to Jesus is already a man of a certain age: he can say that he has been following the Law "from his very youth" (Mk 10:20; Lk 18:21). Now, Jesus says, it is time for him to take a further step. In Matthew, on the contrary, (and only in Matthew) the rich man is a young man (v. 20): he is going to make a start in life and it is now, at the outset, that he has to make a choice between two possible states of life. It is clear that Matthew adapts the saying of Jesus to the concrete situation existing in the Chnrch when the + + + Matthew 19 VOLUME 23, 1964 707 4. 4. 4. Lu¢ien Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 7O8 Gospel was written. The text of Mark and Luke is more original. It represents a theme fairly common in the preaching of Jesus: the disciple must be ready to meet all the requirements of his calling (see Mt 10:37-9; 16:24 f. and par.). Matthew gave a particular slant to the idea. He read into the episode his theology on the ful-fillment of the Law, and mostly he brought into the words of Jesus an allusion to the Christian practice of the two states of life. Everybody cannot actually embrace absolute poverty. Private ownership is not unlawful. The ordinary Christians keep the use of their properties and, keeping it, can reach eternal life. It is only the teleioi, the perfect, who apply the words of the Master literally by giving up all their belongings. The word teleios is definitely secondary: it did not belong to the original saying of Jesus but to the organization of the early Church. Echoing either the vocabulary of the mystery cults4 or, perhaps more likely, the terminology of the Hebrew sects,5 it refers to the inner circle of those who have received total initiation and applies to "a life of perfection which may be freely chosen but is not necessary to ordinary Christian life . Thus does Mat-thew cut a distinction between an ordinary state and a state of perfection." 6 Absolute poverty is a requirement of this perfect life. The context that follows develops this point. It is very difficult (v. 23), indeed practically impossible (v. 24), for a rich man to enter the kingdom. By right the king-dom belongs to the poor (see 5:3), and it takes all the almighty power of God to bring a rich man to the atti-tude of spiritual poverty that will enable him to get access to the kingdom (v. 25). The ordinary Christian is still struggling to realize this utter dispossession of self that will bring him into the kingdom. The teleios is he who has already done it. Like the Apostles following Jesus, the perfect hav~ given up everything (v. 27); they ha;ce already entered the kingdom. Poverty is the way of the perfect, the sign that, for some, the kingdom is al-ready a thing of the present. The teleios is no longer fighting to squeeze through the needle's eye: he is an inmate of the kingdom. 4 In general, in the mystery cults, those who are initiated to the mysteries are not called teleioi but teletai or tetelesmenoi. Yet Pythagoras divided his disciples into ndpioi (children) and teleioi. See C. Spicq, L'Epftre aux Hdbreux (Paris: Gabalda, 1953), v. 2, p. 218. ~ See B. Rigaux, "R~vfilation des myst~res et perfection h Qumran et dans le Nouveau Testament," New Testament Studies, v. 4 (1957- 1958), pp. 237-48. n Rigaux, "R(~vfilation des myst~res," p. 248. See also J. Dupont, " 'Soyez parfaits' (Mt. v, 48) 'Soyez misfiricordieux' (Lc. vi, 36)," Sacra pagina (Gembloux: Duculot, 1959), v. 2, p. 153. The Children and the Kingdom The special interest of Jesus towards the children ap-pears several times in the Gospels (Mr 18:1-7 and par.; 18:10; 19:13-5 and par.; 11:25 and par.). This interest is not merely sentimental. The text under study gives the reason of Jesus' predilection towards them: "The Kingdom of God belongs to such as these" (Mr 19:14). Like the poor man, the child is a type: he finds himself spontaneously ready to accept the kingdom. As such, he is an example of what a disciple should be. What is the reason for this? What are the qualities which childhood embodies and which give it a prece-dence in the kingdom? In modern piety the child stands as a symbol of purity yet unsullied by knowledge of evil, or as a promise in its full bloom yet unaffected by the compromises of daily existence. Is it this that Jesus saw in children? It does not seem so. When Jesus sets a child in the midst of the apostles, it is not as a model of purity or of innocence but as a model of humility. Mark (10:15) and Luke (18:17) hint at the point in their parallel passages: one must receive the kingdom with the simplicity of a child. Matthew makes the point still clearer in the previ-ous chapter where he sketches a full doctrine of spiritual childhood. In Matthew 18, the disciples quarrel about their respective rank. To solve the dispute, Jesus pro-poses the example of a child, stressing his humility: "Whoever humbles himself like this child, he is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven" (v. 4). To have access to the kingdom, the disciple has to humble himself like a child. Indeed, one's rank in the kingdom is determined by his similarity with the child. The hierarchy of the kingdom is a reversed one for it is based on tapein6sis, on lowliness: "Whoever exalts himself will be humbled and whoever humbles himself will be exalted" (Mr 23:12). The humility of a child is the standard according to which real greatness in the kingdom is to be measured. The child is a typical citizen of the kingdom because he is a tapeinos, a lowly and mean thing, not respected and often maltreated and hustled about by the elders.7 The kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these because they represent perfectly the meek to whom the new world goes by right of inheritance (Mr 5:5), the oppressed, the downtrodden who already in the Old Testament made 1This point of view may not be verified in the West where romanticism has made of childhood and of youth positive values which are made much of. It may even go to the extreme of the child being idolized and made into a tyrant. This attitude towards childhood is the consequence of the rehabilitation of childhood done by Christ and the Church. But it is not the spontaneous reaction of man towards children. Outside the West, the child will be loved + + + Matthew 19 VOLUME 23, 1964 709 Luden Legrand, ¯ M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS up the community of the anawim, the group of the poor whom God chose to be His faithful remnant,s In Matthew 20:26 and following and its parallels, the type of the "servant" is presented in the same terms. The "servant" also is the greatest of all: in the theology of the Gospels, child and servant are practically synony-mous. As the child, the servant embodies the attitude of the "poor in spirit," of the lowly and the humble. Whereas "the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them" (v. 25), the disciples of Christ must not take such domi-neering airs. Their hierarchy is a hierachy of service. Those who serve best are the highest; and on the top of it stands He who rendered the greatest service to men by giving His life for them (v. 28): Jesus Himself was a servant (Lk 22:27) who did not come'to do His own will but the will of the Father (Mr 26:42 and par.). The dis-ciple must take the same attitude. Because the kingdoms of the world are based on pride and oppression, the kingdom of God must be based on obedience to God and service to men. This was already manifested during the temptation of Jesus in the desert when the new King, meeting the prince of this world, refused to begin His conquering career by an act of disobedience to God. In His baptism also, He appeared as the Servant of the Lord (Mt 3:17-Is 42:1). From that time onwards, obedience and humble subservience to God have become signs of ap-purtenance to the kingdom. It is because this sign appears almost naturally in the children that they can be con-sidered as the perfect image of the true citizen of the kingdom. Obedience turns man into a child and a servant oi~ God: it shows that.one is really a member of the king-dom which was once inaugurated by the act of perfect obedience of the Servant humbling Himself unto death and the death of the cross (see Phil 2:8). Celibacy and the Kingdom If the pericopes on poverty and childhood correspond to .well-known themes of the Gospel, the same cannot be said of the saying on the eunuchs (Mt 19:12) which concludes in Matthew the discussion on divorce at the beginning of chapter 19. We are dealing here with a hapax of thought; and it does 'not make things easier that this lonely saying, expressed in a puzzling manner, is recorded by Matthew only. Who are those voluntary "eunuchs"? The traditional answer is that Jesus means here consecrated celibacy. and petted but not considered as representing-a positive value. Concerning Jesus' outlook on childhood, see W. Grundmann, "Die Ndpioi in der urchristlichen ParanSse," New Testament Studies, v. 5,(1958-1959), pp. 201-5. 8 See A. Gelin, Les pauvres de Yahv~ (Paris: Cerf, 1953), pp. 30-52. Though this interpretation has been recently challenged with a backing of refined scholarship by exegetes of great authority? we think that it remains valid. For the audience of Jesus, the saying could not but refer to Jesus' celibate life; it might even have alluded to an insulting term used by His enemies. For the early Chris-tian readers of the Gospel, the application followed im-mediately to their problems concerning virgins and widows (see 1 Cot 7:8-9). This interpretation also corre-sponds better to the context of Matthew: the attitude of the Christian celibates who remain like eunuchs in view of the kingdom explains the hard requirements of Chris-tian matrimony (vv. 3-10). The best way to understand Jesus' exacting statements is to consider the conduct of some of the disciples who give up marriage altogether. This utmost renouncement shows what is expected from all the disciples. If all are not called to abstain from wedlock, all must have the same basic attitude towards the flesh: inner freedom and readiness to accept the sacrifice required by the Kingdom?° But another problem follows. Why should Jesus advise the disciple to live like a eunuch in view of the kingdom? What is exactly the meaning of this "in view of" (dia in Greek)? What has celibacy to do with the kingdom? Usually commentators find two possible explanations for the phrase "in view of the kingdom of heaven." it They paraphrase it either "in order the better to work for the kingdom of God" or "to enter the kingdom more ~ For J. Blinzler, "'Eisin eunouchoi: Zur Auslegung von Mt 19:12," ZeitschriIt ]fir die neutestamentliche Wissenschalt, v. 48 (1957), pp. 254-270, the logion had no real connection originally with the con-text it has in Mt: it did not belong to a discussion on marriage but to a controversy on Jesus' celibate life. Jesus was criticized £or being unmarried and called eunuch by His adversaries. Borrowing the in-suiting term used by His opponents, Jesus explains the reason o£ His state o~ life. Thus understood, the logion would be an apology rather than an invitation to celibacy. This interpretation loses much of its support i[, as we think, the logion on the eunuchs does origi-nally belong to the context o~ a discussion on marriage. Moreover, even i[ the original meaning o£ the saying would have been such as Blinzler suggests, it would remain that Mt put it in its present context and the problem remains of the meaning the logion took at the level o[ the redaction o[ the Gospel. According to J. Dupont, Mariage et divorce dans l'P.vangile (Bruges: Abbaye de St Andrfi, 1959), the saying reIers to the problem oI the husbands who had to live away from their wives. Their situa-tion can be compared to that o[ the eunuchs; yet they have to ac-cept it "in view o£ the Kingdom." This interpretation misses the reference to Jesus' own celibacy and does not explain the logion in its original form. :*J. Dupont, Mariage et divorce, p. 172, summarizing the inter-pretation o1: T. Zahn, Das Evangellum des Matthiius, pp. 592-5. n See M.-J. Lagrange, L'~vangile selon s. Matthieu (7th ed., Paris: Gabalda, 1948), p. 371. For a survey of the opinions, see J. Dupont, Mariage et divorce, p. 210. ÷ ÷ ÷ Matthew 19 VOLUME 23, 1964 711 4, 4, ÷ Lucien Legrand, M .E.P . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS easily." The first interpretation does not correspond to the context which says nothing about apostolic activities. The second explanation does correspond to a general line of thought of the Gospels which insist on the neces-sity of giving up everything for the sake of the king-dom (Mr 5:29 f.; 13:44-46). Yet it should be noticed that, at least in Matthew and Mark, "a wife" does not appear in the list of the family affections and possessions one must be ready to forgo to have access to eternal life (Mt 19:29; Mk 10:29).12 There is no trace of catharism in the Gospels: marriage is not an obstacle but a sacred institu-tion established by God Himself and sharing in the goodness of the creation (Mt 19:4-fi). The comparison with the two pericopes that follow suggests another explanation of the phrase "in view of the kingdom." Poverty and spiritual conditions are not extrinsic conditions laid on those who want to enter the kingdom. It is not even accurate to say that they facili-tate access to the kingdom. They are rather the attitudes of those who are already inside: "The kingdom belongs [in the present] to Such as these." They manifest the kingdom in its inner nature. They show it forth as a kingdom of humility and obedience to God, as an eschatological kingdom differing radically from the king-doms of the world based on wealth and might. They are the marks of the new life breaking into the world. The poor and those who are like children testify by their very life that the last times have come and that the eschatological transformation wrought by the Spirit is presently initiated. The voluntary "eunuchs" give the same testimony. Dedicated single life is not a condition to gain access to the kingdom; it is a mark of heavenly citizenship. Through it, those "to whom it has been given" share already in the life of resurrection when "they shall neither marry nor be married but will be like the angels in heaven" (Mt 22:30). The virgins are the full grown citizens of the kingdom. They constitute the retinue of the Lamb, following Him wherever He goes (Apoc 14:4). Such is the meaning of being a eunuch "in view of the kingdom." It means preserving virginity because virginity is a feature of the life in the kingdom. A proper paraphrase would be "in order to be in har-mony with the life of the kingdom." la The Christian celibate has embraced this state of life to anticipate the conditions that will prevail in the kingdom. ~ Lk has added the wife to the list to make up for his omission of the logion on the eunuchs. Following a law of harmonization of the synoptic.s, often verified in the textual criticism of the Gospels, a number of manuscripts have added also "the wife" to the text of Mt and Mk; the Vulgate has added it in Mt but not in Mk. ~8 See Legrand, The Biblical Doctrine o[ Virginity, p. 44. Synthesis: Matthew 19 and the Three Vows of Perfec-tion It would be anachronistic to contend that, when. writ-ing his chapter 19, the evangelist had in view the three vows of perfection and the present pattern of religious life. Yet it can be said that Matthew 19 is the charter of religious life based on the three vows, for it was the in-tention of the evangelist to describe the main aspects of perfect discipleship which the religious institution tries to realize concretely. Matthew 19 describes a state of life proper to those "who want to be perfect." This corresponds to the life of the early Church and already to the situation of the pre-paschal community which Jesus had gathered round Him since, among His followers, there was already an inner core of a few disciples who had a more intimate contact with the Master, a closer association with the main events of His career, and a deeper initiation into the mysteries which He revealed. This "state of perfection" is described in Matthew 19 in reference to the kingdom, that is to say to the eschato-logical renovation promised by the prophets and fulfilled in the coming of the Messiah. It may be remarked that, in Matthew, the nineteenth chapter with its three sec-tions constitutes the introduction ("the narrative sec-tion") to the fifth "livret" of the Gospel, devoted to a description of the imminent coming of the kingdom, a part that will culminate in the eschatological discourse.14 In view of this, the three sections of the chapter could be adequately characterized as the three eschatological attitudes that portend the advent of the kingdom, an-nounce its coming, and realize it proleptically to a large extent. The "perfect" are those in whom eschatology is realized. In the present age, they show forth the condi-tions that will prevail in the age to come. They bear witness to the new principle of life which animates the regenerated world. Virginity shows that the new kingdom does not expand any longer by the fecun-dity of the flesh but by faith and the power of the Spirit. Childhood signifies that the power which is at work in the new order of things is not man's but God's might and the only way to share in it and benefit by its effects consists in humble acceptance of God's will. The poor are those who have sold everything to purchase the precious pearl of the kingdom (see Mt 13:45 f.): they scorn the riches of the world because they have inherited all the wealth of heaven. UAccording to the plan adopted by P. Benoit in the Jerusalem Bible (L'l~vangile selon saint Matthieu [Paris: Cerf, 1953]). Benoit follows L. Vaganay, Le probl~rne synoptique, pp. 57-61. ÷ ÷ ÷ Matthew 19 VOLUME 23, 1964 ,: 713' Therefore virginity is not solitude but fullness of agapd and unconditional gift of self. Poverty is not want but possession of the supreme treasures. Obedience is not servitude but service. In it, man's free will is not obliterated; it reaches its plenitude by being given the dimensions of God's will. Thus are the threevows the paradoxical but perfect picture of real love, richness, and liberty. They set the pattern of the iife to come and attract the world towards it. They do not cut man from the human condition; on the contrary, they represent the pole towards which man's life and even the whole cosmos converge in the new order of things inaugurated by the Resurrection of the Lord. + ÷. + Lu¢ien Legrand, M .E.P . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 714, RICHARD P. VAUGHAN, S.J. Chastity and Psychosexual Development Psychoanalysis, just as any other theoretical position, has its contributions and limitations. One of its contribu-tions is the theory of psychosexual development, which states that sexuality, like other human processes, follows a consistent pattern of growth. That part of the pattern which refers to mental aspects, such as feelings, emotions, desires, and attitudes, is called psychosexual. It is the contention of psychoanalytic theory that there are definite stages of development which each must experience if adult sexuality is to occur. Psychoanalysis offers a detailed description of each stage. Although authorities question some aspects of the sequence, most will concede that sex follows an evolving process.1 It is not something that suddenly becomes a part of one's experience, let us say at adolescence, as once was thought. It is rather a systematically developing thing, beginning from infancy. The ultimate sexuality of the adult is the outcome of many factors, both developmental and environmental. If these factors have been favorable, the result is a mature, well-balanced person; if unfavor-able, art immature, neurotic person. According to psycho-analytic thought, the ultimate goal of the developmental process is the ability to have satisfying heterosexual rela-tionships. For the religious the vow of chastity closes the door on any future heterosexual experiences. However, he still retains his sexuality. When applied to him, therefore, the analytic theory of psychosexual development poses some special questions. What is the ultimate goal of sexual growth for the religious? Does the vow block the attaining 1 Robert R. Sears, Survey oI Objective Studies oJ Psychoanalytic Concepts (New York: New Social Science Research Council, 1943), passim; and Roland Dalbiez, Psychoanalytical Method and the Doctrine o] Freud (New York: Longmans, Green, 1941), v. 2, pp. 163- 85. Father Richard P. Vaughan, s.J., is professor of psy-chology at the University of San Francisco; San Francisco, Califor-nia 94118. VOLUME 23, 1964 ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, 8.I. REVIEW. FOR RELIGIOUS 716 of the final goal? Are there other possible ultimate goals? What effect does maladjustment at one or other develop-mental stage have upon the practice of chastity? Exaggerated Dualism Much of Christian spirituality has been based upon an exaggerated dualism which overstresses the spiritual to the detriment of the corporeal.2 Man is looked upon as a dichotomized being, composed of body and soul, the ani-mal and the human, the higher nature constantly at work subduing the lower nature. Sex, when viewed in this frame of reference, ceases to be an integral part of the total functioning man. It becomes an isolated process which is essentially animal. It becomes a semi-independent entity with its own energy system and mode of operation. As such, it is often at odds with the higher nature, whose chief function is to control unruly animal impulses. Such a view of sexuality is negative and likens the vow of chas-tity to an additional strong-armed guard who is ever on the alert for the slightest manifestation of sexual stirrings. When Sigmund Freud first introduced his psychoana-lytic theory to a predominantly Christian world, he met with immediate opposition. One of the reasons for this reaction may well have been the prevalent exaggerated dualism of his time. What Freud had done was invert the order of nature. In effect, he had allowed the so-called lower nfiture to take over and relegated the higher nature to an insignificant role. The sexual part of man became all important; the rational, unimportant.3 Actually, such an interpretation is far removed from the true mind of Freud inasmuch as his concept of man was not dualistic. Freud did not accept the Christian notion of body and soul, rational and animal. He saw man as a single, inte-grated, functioning biological unit. It may be true, as many think, that he overplayed the importance of the sex instinct; but he did not regard sex as an isolated process in any way independent of the total operating personality. Unfortunately, Freud used the dualistic terminology of his time, thus creating a wrong impression. However, if one examines his writings more deeply, he soon discovers that Freud went beyond the dualistic view and considered sexuality as an integral part of the total functioning per-son. 4 An exaggerated dualism which glorifies the spiritual to the detriment of the corporeal seriously hinders any -" Louis Bouyer, Introduction to Spirituality, trans. Mary Perkins Ryan (New York: Descl~e, 1961), pp. 143-62. nSigmund Freud, "Three Contributions to the Theory of Sex," Basic Writings oI Sigmund Freud (New York: Modern Library, 1938). ~ Adrian van Kaam, "Sex and Existence," Insight, v. 2, n. 3, p. 5. rapprochement between analytic theory and the Chris-tian concept of perpetual chastity. It is only when sex is considered as a manifestation of the whole person that some of the clinically proven findings of psychoanalysis can help us better understand the meaning of perpetual chastity and the difficulty that it presents to some religious. Sexuality, a Human Function Sexuality in man is not an animal function; it is a human function. It is a manifestation of the whole person. A man can express himself by reasoning to the existence of an infinite God, by creating an original painting, or by engaging in the sex act. All these acts are human. They flow from the same principle whereby that man exists and functions. It is the man who reasons, who paints, and who engages in the sex act. It is not his intellect, his artistic ability, or his sex instinct. Sexuality is intimately con-nected with every aspect of our being. It exerts an in-fluence on our other modes of functioning, such as our thinking or creating; these other functions, in turn, exert an influence on sexuality. A distorted sexuality will, therefore, exert a distorted influence and vice versa. It is precisely at this point that the analytic theory of psycho-sexual development has a contribution to make to the better understanding of Christian chastity. Psychosexual Stages Let us briefly consider the progressive stages of psycho-sexual development as proposed by the contemporary psychoanalytic school. Before beginning, there are two preliminary notions that should be mentioned. First of all, the term "sex" is used in a wide sense. It includes not only the reaction of the reproductive organs and related feelings and emotions but also what we might generally consider the purely sensuous. When viewed in this latter sense, a limited amount of sexual experience in early childhood seems more reasonable. Secondly, no stage is clearly distinct from the next; there is overlapping and merging. During the first year and half of life, the mouth, lips, and tongue are the chief organs of satisfaction. Inasmuch as almost all the other human functions are greatly limited, it should not be surprising that the infant finds such actions as sucking or biting gratifying. This is na-ture's way of guaranteeing the great strides in physio-logical and psychological growth that must be achieved during infancy. Growth depends upon the consumption of food. It should also be noted that this is a time of life when the totality of all one's concern centers on self. There is no such thing as "otherness" in an infant's love; he loves himself totally and completely. Everything out-÷ ÷ ÷ Chastity VOLUME 23, 1964 717 ÷ ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 718 side of himself exists to keep him well fed and comfort-able. Sex at this stage obviously refers to the sensuous experience that comes from sucking, feeling full, warm, and dry. These experiences, however, have some relation-ship to what is generally considered sexual in the more biological sense of the word inasmuch as they involve a certain sensuous pleasure that is preliminary to biological sexuality. Any distortion in growth during this period leaves the individual, in varying degrees, with an inability to realize "otherness" in his love and the confining of love to self. Successful transition through this first stage estab-lishes feelings of security and trust in others, the foun.da-tion for the close relationship of love that should typify the married state. The second stage (the most controversial) covers the next year and a half of life.5 During this period the child must learn to control the processes of bodily elimination. Up to this time he has experienced a certain pleasure in letting the process follow its natural course. Now he is forced to forego this pleasure at the wish of an all-impor-tant parent who buys conformity at the price of love and approval. The result is a struggle within the child who wants both parental love and unhampered elimination. For a time he wavers between conformity and non-con-formity; he often becomes negative, restraining the elimi-nation as long as possible. Toilet training involves the first great demand to control impulse. How this training is accomplished will influence future self-control. If it is handled in a harsh, threatening, punishing manner, a spirit of rebellion and obstinacy is apt to result and per-sist in later life. If the training is accomplished in a re-laxed, understanding, yet firm manner, the child will have a good foundation on which to build the needed control of his future sexual impulses. The important aspect of this stage is the interpersonal relationship be-tween mother and childmthe child's struggle with con-forming or nonconforming in response to the mother's giving or witholding love and approval. According to analytic theory, malformation at this stage can influence later interpersonal relationships--the giving or with-holding of love in dealing with. others. Toward'the close of the third year, the child becomes aware of sex in the physiological sense and directs his attention toward his sex organs. In the process of so doing, he derives a pleasure which analytic thinking looks upon as truly sexual. Here, as in the first stage, there is no "otherness" in his action. He is prompted by pure self-gratification. Sexuality is directed toward the self. According to psychdanalytic thought, it is also during this ~ Dalbiez, Psychoanalytical Method, p. 167. stage that the sexuality of the young child becomes tempo-rarily attached to the parent of the opposite sex. In the normal course of development, the attachment is aban-doned and the child identifies with the parent of his own sex. The boy begins to imitate his father and assume mas-culine patterns of behavior; the girl, to imitate her mother and assume feminine patterns of behavior. If the identifi-cation fails to take place and the boy remains too closely attached to the mother and her feminine interests, the seeds of homosexuality and a neurotic condition may be planted. This period is followed by a time when sexuality plays a relatively minor role. During this stage the child is concerned with the learning of academic and social skills peculiar to the elementary grades. With the advent of adolescence, sexuality becomes very much in evidence once again. Now, however, it begins to be directed toward others. The boy becomes aware of the girl as a girl; the girl, of the boy as a boy. The path during this stage is often rocky. In his frustration, the adolescent may revert to solitary gratification which gives him the illusion that his troubles are forgotten and his tensions released. Moreover, it sometimes happens that he becomes attached to one of his own sex before finally settling on the opposite sex. This latter inclination accounts for the so-called adolescent crush or even some overt homosexu-ality. Maladjustment during this stage can.result in later compulsive masturbation and homosexual tendencies. Heterosexual Orientation The ultimate aim of psychosexual growth is hetero-sexual orientation. In this final stage, the individual is drawn to the full satisfaction of sexual intercourse. His sexual inclinations become definitely attracted to those of the opposite sex. This does not mean, however, that the individual must actually experience the satisfaction of sexual intercourse but simply that his sexual inclina-tions are attracted to such a satisfaction. Since sexuality is an expression of the total self, he may choose to express himself in another way and still be a mature person. The individual who fails to attain this final stage experiences no desire for sexual intercourse. This state is sometimes mistaken for virtue; in reality, it is a form of immaturity. The religious is a person who has given himself entirely to God. His dedication excludesheterosexual experience. Yet if he is a mature person, he appreciates the value of his sex powers. He is fully aware of his attraction to the opposite sex but freely chooses not to give expression to this attraction so as to be able to express more fully his commitment to God. If he is psychologically healthy, he does not deny, distort, or repress his sexuality; he simply + + ÷ Chastity VOLUME 2~1 1964 4. 4. 4, R. P. Vaughan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 720 chooses another goal, which demands the sacrifice of the fulfillment of his sexual possibilities. Commitme'nt and Sacrifice Every commitment calls for the expression of certain aspects of one's being and the abdication of others,e The dedicated physician is sometimes called upon to sacrifice his attachment to family life; the statesman in foreign service, his attachment to his homeland. In the case of religious, the commitment calls for the sacrifice of sexual experience so as to give one's whole attention to divine things. The vow of chastity implies a positive expression of the self. It does not mean a mere blocking or repressing of the sex powers but rather a fuller reaching out to God through the medium of the higher powers under the guidance of grace. To achieve this goal, abdication of sexuality is the cost. The deeper the commitment to God and His world, the easier should be the practice of the vow--providing immaturity in psychosexual development does not hinder the practice. Sexual Disorders Sex problems are" frequently the result of maladjust-ment at one or other psychosexual stage and the conse-quent failure to develop an integrated personality where all one's powers work together harmoniously. The reli-gious with a sex .problem to some extent still carries the unhealthy feelings and attitudes of infancy, childhood, or adolescence. If his difficulty is serious, chances are that malformation existed at each stage, one compounding the other. Since sexuality influences every other mode of ac-tion, the whole personality is distorted. The religious manifests a lack of harmony in his general functioning. It is for this reason that most psychiatrists hold out little hope of success for the person who announces that he has a masturbation or homosexuality problem and wants the psychiatrist to help him get over it. Psychiatry is not gear~ed to controlling will acts such as masturbation or homosexuality; it is, however, geared to the reconstruc-tion and development of a healthy personality. Its purpose is to promote over-all psychological growth which will allow the individual to utilize his powers and capacities in an ordered, effective manner. The approach is directed toward the development of the whole person. If psychi-atric treatment is to be successful, the religious must be willing to cooperate with this approach and not limit his efforts solely to the various ramifications of the sex prob-lem. van Kaam, "Sex and Existence," p. 6. Compulsive Masturbation Compulsive masturbation is a typical psychological dis-order which stems from a failure to.achieve sexual matu-rity. Fenichel states that masturbation is pathological un-der two circumstances: (1) when it is preferred by an adult to sexual intercourse; (2) when it is done with great frequency.7 Masturbation in the adult signifies an arrest in the normal evolution of the sex powers.8 Instead of turning the attraction out toward others, the individual with this psychological problem turns it in on himself. He reverts to an earlier level of psychosexual development. He fails to realize "otherness" in directing his love. During the turbulent years of adolescence, the insecure youth in his halting struggle to reach sexual maturity often regresses to the earlier developmental stage of self-gratification. Sometimes unaware of the full moral impli-cations (this is especially true in the case of girls), he devel-ops the habit of relieving sexual tension through the practice of masturbation. Frequently it is only after the maturing of sexuality that he is able to overcome the habit fully. A failure to achieve maturity results in a per-sistence of the habit even after adulthood has been reached. Before entering the novitiate, some young men and women are able to overcome the habit by the sheer force of will power, only to have it suddenly return a few years after profession. In many instances, these are reli-gious who never achieved a mature heterosexual orienta-tion. As far as their sexuality is concerned, they are still adolescents. While teen-agers, they felt uncertain and frightened when faced with the normal heterosexual con-tacts of young people such as attending dances and dating. Admission to the religious life closed the door once and for all on the possibility of such relationships. The vow of chastity, then, became a psychological defense instead of a free giving of self and a sacrificing of sexuality to attain a nobler goal. As a consequence, no effort was made to understand the "why" of their sexual feelings and to reorient them toward maturity. After some months or perhaps years in the religious life, they were eventually overpowered by their confused, immature sexual impulses and found themselves unable to cope with these .impulses. Compulsive masturbation is more apt to occur when there is a lack of satisfaction in one's life.9 Thtig thi~ frustrated religious, Who i~ unable to give :himself full~ to his c~lling, is more likely tofall into this' disorder. He may manifest a certain hostility over his in~tbiiity to socceed as 7Otto Fenichel, The Psychoanalytic Theory oI Neurosis (New York: Norton, 1945), p. 76. s Marc Oraison, Man and Wile (London: Longmans, 1959), p. 86. ~ Fenichel, Psychoanalytic Theory, p. 76. + + + Chastity VOLUME 2,~, 1964 721 ÷ ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS a religious and subsequently turn to masturbation as a means of gratification. Sometimes the act ceases to be a pleasurable thing and becomes an act of aggression turned in on the self out of hatred for the self. Since compulsive masturbation is a pathological symp-tom, the cure should be directed not toward the symptom but toward the reconstruction of the disordered person-ality. What is needed is the reordering of the total person. Rarely does it happen that compulsive masturbation is the only neurotic symptom. Homosexuality Homosexuality. is another pathological condition that in some instances appears to spring from distorted psycho-sexual development. During early adolescence, sexuality is somewhat adrift. It is only with full maturity that the individual becomes definitely heterosexually oriented. In the process of achieving this final goal, it is not unusual for the youth to become sexually attached to one of his own sex. Even in mature adulthood, a modicum of the attraction remains.10 In some, however, the homosexual attraction prevails, with the individual either having no attraction for the opposite sex or a nearly equal attraction for both sexes,n For centuries spiritual writers have been aware of the dangers of homosexual tendencies in the religious life. Much of the writing on the "particular friendship" gives every indication that such a relationship is a preliminary step to homosexuality. Since most retain, in varying degrees, some homosexual tendencies, it should not be surprising that spiritual authorities express con-cern. When sexual powers are deprived of their normal object, they tend to seek a second best. Lest too much emphasis be placed on this danger, there is a need to un-derstand clearly the difference between true friendship in the religious life and a "particular friendship"; other-wise charity, the essence of the Christian message, is apt to suffer. The homosexual is basically an immature person. His sexuality remains at the level of the adolescent. It can safely be said that in most instances he manifests a general immaturity, frequently accompanied by a degree of neu-roticism. His turning to his own sex and rejecting the opposite sex may result from a number of different fac-tors: (1) fear of the opposite sex; (2) early sexual experi-ences with a person of one's own sex, particularly an older person; (3) an overidentification with the parent of the opposite sex, "coupled with an unconscious hostility toward this same parent. While the causes of homosexual-lo Fenichel, Psychoanalytic Theory, p. 329. n Fenichel, Psychoanalytic Theory, pp. 328-3 I. ¯ ity are not clearly spelled out, there is sound evidence for some form of maladjustment in psychosexual, develop-merit, le Needless to say, the community aspect of religious life militates against the homosexual who enters this life. Unless he can achieve sexual maturity, which implies total psychological maturity, his chances of successfully leading the life are slight. The close contact with attrac-tive members of his own community presents a constant attack on the vow of chastity. It might also be added that under the usual conditions of religious life psychiatric treatment has limited value. In conclusion, it can be said that the well-balanced religious does attain psychosexual maturity. He freely chooses to express himself through a total cotnminnent to God and His world, which calls for a sacrificing of sexual expression. His love for God is no less an expression of the total self than the heterosexual experiences of the married. Immaturity in psychosexual development, how-ever, may seriously hinder the realization of the commit-ment inasmuch as any distortion of personality develop-ment detours one's energies in the direction of abnormal behavior and away from the object of commitment. n Dalbiez, Psychoanalytical Method, pp. 192-214; see also James Vander Veldt and Robert Odenvald, Psychiatry and Catholicism (2nd ed.; New York: McGraw-Hill, 1957), pp. 424-9. ÷ ÷ Chastity VOLUME 23~. 1964 723 RICHARD A. McCORMICK, S.]. Psychosexual Development in Religious Life Richard A. Mc- Cormick, S.J., is professor of moral theology at Bellar-mine School of The-ology; 230 S. Lin-coln Way; North Aurora, Illinois 60542. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Our purpose this morning* is to explore psychosexual development in religious life: its meaning, importance, its manifestations, itg growth, its obstacles. To do this I suggest that we make a twofold division of material in our considerations: (1) psychosexual development in general; (2) psychosexual development in religious life. Psychosexual Development in General The term "psychosexual development" is drawn from modern clinical psychology. It is not a term, therefore, which stems from Christian ascetical literature or from scholastic psychology. In attempting to describe its mean-ing I shall describe its ideal term (psychosexual maturity). Those competent in the area of psychology would be glad, I am sure, to fill in the gaps and deficiencies of my impoverishing description. "Psychosexual maturity" is a certain degree of affective relational possibility.1 It refers to the ability of the in-dividual to enter into "harmonious dialogue with any-thing and anybody, without obscure anxieties, without incoherent aggressiveness, without exclusive posses-siveness, in an increasingly fruitful rhythm of ex-changes . ,, 2 Insofar as it affects social relationships, the first note of this maturity is the ability to deal with others in general as persons rather than as objects. But psychosexual maturity says more than the capabil- * This paper was delivered as part of a seminar on psychological development and the religious life held at Catholic University of America, June 11-22, 1964. a Marc Oraison, Illusion and Anxiety (New York: Macmillan, 1963), p. 24. ~ Oraison, Illusion and Anxiety, p. 24. ity of relating to others as persons. It deals specifically with a relational possibility to the opposite sex, and as such it describes a quality of one's growth as a male or female. This maturity has been further described as an instinctive-emotional growth which "tends to a polariza-tion of the sexual drive in an intersubjective relation where the synthesis of each partner is achieved--even on the genital level--in the actual relation with 'the other regarded as a person." 3 In simpler terms I take this to mean relating sexually to another of the opposite sex as a person rather than as an object. Relating sexually should not be understood narrowly, in a merely genital sense, but in the wider sense of an overall instinctive-emotional attitude. Whatever the final commitment of the person involved, "what is important is that he achieve an interior psychological experience of his situation in relation to woman as a person. The same is true, of course, for woman in relation to man."~ "Relation to woman (or man) as a person." What does this mean? And what is the distinct character of this instinctive-emotional relationship? Relating to someone as a person means that my entire attitude and conduct reflects his total reality and dignity--a reality and dignity founded in the fact that he is a unique individual meant to be a blueprint of no one save God in whose image and likeness he was created; possessed of an immortal soul; an intellect capable of his own original thoughts; a will capable of and responsible for his own decisions, desires, purposes; emotions capable of enthusiasms, of joy and sorrow of a unique kind; of a destiny which is so magnifi-cent that it is describable only in terms of God Himself. Relating to another as a person is perhaps best under-stood by its opposite, relating to him as an obfect or means--as a thing, somthing from 'which I want to get something, to be used, manipulated, fit into a scheme, adjusted, subordinated, and twisted to a purpose. Human sexuality itself provides us with the distinctive character of this relationship to another person. Analysis of human sexuality, both in its wide and genital sense, reveals that it has two inner senses or meanings. It is, of course, fundamentally procreative. It is also essentially expressive of the deep love which brings a man and woman together to share their lives and work out their destiny by mutual complementarity. One thing is clear, then, when human sexuality is studied carefully, as Planque notes: "That the sexual function has no meaning except as related to others, and related to others in the 4- 4- P xychosexua! Developmeng s Oraison, Illusion and Anxiety, p. 109. 40raison, Illusion and Anxiety, p. 109. VOLUME 23, 1964 R. A. McCormick, sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS form of an offering." ~ There are two propositions here: first, the essential relativity or other-centeredness of sexuality; secondly, the character of an offering. Because of this basic other-centeredness of human sexuality, the-ology and psychology are at one in asserting that these goals will be achieved only through altruism of personal-ity. The distinctive character of this relation to another as person is, then, that of emotional altruism, of an offering, a self-donation, an oblation. It is to be noted again that the maturity in question does not refer to an actual mode of relational life. It says ability, possibility, capability., of an oblative rela-tionship, of a relationship of self-donation. In describing this capability of self-donation, modem psychology refers to a "healthy relationship to the opposite sex." This opposite sex aspect should not be misleading. It does not imply sexual expression or the married state. It states a condition or status of personality development. It says that the person is of such an overall maturity that a healthy sexual relationship is possible and that it can (even genitally) begin to serve the purposes of love. By contrast it says that if a person does not achieve the personality growth where a relationship with the opposite sex can be a sharing "and its typical expression a self-giving, the whole personality has failed to mature and this will affect the ability to love anyone in anyway. The emphasis falls on the ability to love. Thus Maturity consists.in the possibility of chastity or con-tinence-- provided the subject wills it--for love's sake. It is moreover quite conceivable that this maturity will permit., a celibacy oriented toward a different mode of relationM life and love of persons--social service or religious consecration in a positive possibility of chastity.° Such a maturity is said to be psychosexual. What does this mean? Generally it means that the achievement is the result of total personality development--not just, for example, of physical growth or intellec'tual endow-ment. It says both that it is the result of the harmonious growth of all personality factors (emotional, instinctive, physical, spiritual, and so forth) and that its manifesta-tions occur at all levels of the personality. More specifi-cally it is called "sexual" for at least several reasons. First of all, there is the importance attributed to the sexual instinct in this development by modern clinical psychology. Secondly, the relational possibility referred to earlier will always be stamped by the sex of the per-sons involved. Thirdly, the term is, quite naturally, generally described in terms of the man-woman relation- Daniel Planque, The Theology o[ Sex in Marriage (Notre Dame: Fides, 1962), p. 90. Oraison, Illusion and Anxiety, p. 112. ship leading to and found in marriage. Finally one of the characteristic expressions of emotional infantilism is sexual irresponsibility; hence psychosexual immaturity both gives rise to this type of thing and is in some sense the result of it. We have described in general the term or fulfillment which is called psychosexual maturity. Our concern is more immediately with psychosexual "development." This implies that this term or achievement is the result of a process of growth. Here we note two things. First of all, by describing the term we do not imply that it is a static state or that it is ever fully achieved. We should rather understand that this term is an ideal and that growth toward it continues through life. Secondly, in general this growth process is conceived by modern psychology as one beginning in the tenderest years and extending into adulthood to be continued by the very self-donation which it increasingly makes possible. More concretely, it can be said that "the child begins from a normally narcissistic position, evolves toward an object relation and should achieve a subject relation in which the other is experienced as another subject."7 In other words, the process is the gradual socialization of the sex instinct, its gradual evolution to the point where it serves the altruistic purposes of human love. This growth process is defined in terms of challenges to be met, obstacles to be overcome. The phenomenon is very complex and at some points disputed and unclear. The following summary foreshortens this complexity but it will have to do. In phase with the different stages of maturation there occur certain rhythmic oscillations of social interest. Thus, at first, the infant naturally makes no distinction between boys and girls. It is socially asexual or simply non-sexual. The child of two or three is bi-sexual, recognizing gradually that there is a difference between boys and girls, but taking no account of this in its social relations with other children. With the approach of the latency period the child withdraws to the shelter of its own sex; not exclusively, not pathologically, but simply as a natural process to allow the next phase of development to occur with the least possible turmoil. This is the stage at which the young boy of six will look on another young boy of six who plays with girls as a "sissy," and the girl of six on her companion who plays with boys as a "tomboy"--or whatever happens to be the familiar term of the peer-group. Soon, having made some progress through the latency pe-riod, the child feels emotionally strong enough to emerge from his own sex-group once more. Thus boys and girls of seven or eight or nine play happily together, recognizing that they are different but without segregation on this basis (other bases, yes: incompetence at the game, tell-taleism, breach of rule etc.). This is a hi-sexual or heterosexual phase. (The phase of de-fensive withdrawal into the shelter of one's own sex is called ~ Oraison, Illusion and Anxiety, p. 106. ÷ ÷ 4. Psychosexual Development VOLUME 2.~, 1964 ÷ ÷ ÷ R. A. McCormick, $.1. REVIEW' FOR RELIGIOUS a homosexual phase, but the term must be carefully used in this psychological sense so as to differentiate it sharply from its more usual connotation of sexual perversion. The defensive with- :trawal in question here is certainly not a perversion.) From this heterosexual phase, the child passes, with the onset of psy-chological puberty (a year or two earlier than physiological puberty) or the pre-pubertal phase referred to in our second paragraph, into a new homosexual phase (again, let us repeat that this means a withdrawal into the shelter of one's own sexual peers). It is easy to see that this withdrawal has an im-portant biological and psychological function: it enables the growing organism to take the great leap into sexual matur-ity without the disturbing stimuli of the other sex, or at any rate with these minimized. When the conscious mind of the growing child has learned, however inadequately, to come to grips with its new'found sexuality, the adolescent is then ready to enter the bi-sexual society once again. ~Thus, towards the middle of adolescence, one finds once again the child emerging from the defensive positions of its own sex, and heterosexual interests and play activities are sought once again,s In explaining this process some experts put more em-phasis on the psychological interiorization of sense and emotional experiences going on within the child from the moment of birth; others put less on such a structuralizing of early experience. At any rate, it is true to say that practically all specialists accept a growth process through several crises and e_xplain this process as leading ideally to the possibility of interpersonal relationships. It is this total development which I shall understand as "psycho-sexual development." To highlight the general importance of this develop-ment, let me try to locate it in a somewhat larger (than clinical psychology) context, the context of Christian living. The great commandment, in a sense the only commandment, is the love of God and of neighbor for God's sake. All other Christian duties are simply specifi-cations of this command. But not only is this a command; God's commands are affirmations about ourselves. In telling us that the great commandment is love of God and neighbor, Christ was actually telling us what is good for us and what we are. He was saying that our own comple-tion and fulfillment is to be found here, hence that ulti-mately our eternal h~ppiness depends on love and is love. If one is to find his life, he must lose it--in the divest-ment of self which is love. This love we call charity to highlight its supernatural origin, efficiency, object, and purpose. It is easy to conclude that just as love is the essential ideal of any state of life, so ability to love is the essential disposition, that which one should bring to it and that in which one grows through it. Every state of life is an apprenticeship in love. ¯ SE. F. O'Doherty, Religion and Personality Problems (New York: Alba, 1964), pp. 224-6. - " - " ¯ - The terms, so to speak, of our love are God and our neighbor. This is clear. But the relationship between the two is not always that clear. When we are commanded to love God and our neighbor, it is easy to imagine the two as distinct. In an obvious sense they are distinct. Yet in a very real sense they are not. St. John wrote: "If any man says I love God and hates his brother, he is a liar. For he who loves not his brother, whom he sees, how can he love God whom he does not see?" (1 Jn 4:20-1). The obvious identity here suggests the Mystical Body. Our love of neighbor is our love of God because, in a real if mysterious sense, our neighbor is God, is of His Body. Also "the good our love wants to do Him can be done only for our neighbor and it is in others that God de-mands to be recognized and loved."a What is astounding here is the correspondence between this theological reality and what I might call a psycho-logical reality. The theological reality refers to the union of God and man wherein love of man is transformed into and becomes love of God. The psychological reality refers to what we might call the dependence of our love of God on rove of men--in terms of dispositions. Oraison wrote: "In order that dialogue with God be possible, there must be an existential dialogue among men. Created love opens up the heart, primes it for divine love." ~0 What I think he is saying is that we learn to love God by learning to love men and that only by loving men can we grow in those dispositions which are basic to love of God. Con-versely, the failure to love another and others, which is ordinarily traceable to an arrested development, to an infantilism of self-enclosure, will also prohibit growth in love of God. The two loves just cannot be separated, neither onto-logically nor psychologically. If one does not love man he is de facto not loving God, St. John tells us. If one cannot love men, he will very likely be unable to love God, psychology suggests. And this is the enormous im-portance of psychosexual maturity. But if these two loves cannot be separated, they must be clearly distinguished. I mean that one may never assert that Christ's message can be reduced to the realities of clinical psychology, that grace and emotional maturity are synonymous, that the supernatural love of God is psychological maturity. Far from it. Loving God is not chiefly our doing. "The love of God has been poured into bur hearts by the Holy Spirit whom we have received" (Rum 5:5). It is simply to' assert the profound oneness and continuity of the *Vincent Rochford, "Who Is My Neighbor?" The Way, v. 4 (1964), p. 116. lo Oraison, Illusion and Anxiety, p. 43. + + + Psychosemml Development VOLUME 23, 1964 ÷ ÷ ÷ R. A. McCormick, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS human personality, a thing we should expect if we grasp even partially the fact that man was created (and not only elevated) in the image and likeness of God. It is to assert that, while the two are not the same, the subject (man) is one and hence psychosexual immaturity can be a terrible obstacle to love of God.11 For the more we know of God, the more we know that He is relation, that His very being is "being-in-and-for-another." As man comes to know more about himself through clinical psychology, it should not be surprising that his Godlikeness becomes more obvious, that he sees he is made for relational life, and that everything in his makeup (including instincts and emotions) conspires to relational possibility or, as undeveloped, hinders it. And once we know that our eternal existence will be love of God, it should not be surprising that preparation for this life should be growth in the dispositions which are so important relationally and that these dispositions reach to the depths of our being. What I am trying to say most inadequately is that we will only learn to love, hence to love God, by loving our neighbor. Now we love as human beings, divinized through grace it is true, but still as human beings--not as disincarnate spirits. That means that our love is a matter of the spiritual, the intellectual, the emotional, the physical. Thus the other-centeredness which defines all (but or-dered self) love is a matter of total personality orienta-tion and development. In other words, the personal re-lational possibility of love is founded and depends on my maturity as a male or a female. Whenever we love, we love as man or as woman. Now being a complete male or female is precisely de-pendent upon a successful negotiation of the growth process which we have mentioned. It is that which condi-tions to some extent my ability to seek and respond to any other as a person. If I am emotionally immature, I will be affectively turned in on self, closed off to others, never able to transcend my own self-interest. Summarily, then, since this growth process has a great deal to do with my being a healthy male or female, and since being a healthy male or female conditions my capacity to relate personally (hence lovingly) to others, and since charity ~s to some extent this relation supernaturalized, it is clear that fulfillment of the great commandment involves some very human underpinnings, that it is tied closely to the dynamic drama of growth upon which clinical psychology has raised the curtain. We should expect this, for we are one. Assuredly grace can accomplish miracles See Robert G. Gassert, S.J., and Bernard H. Hall, M.D., Psy-chiatry and Religious Faith (New York: Viking, 1964), pp. 49-50. (thank God) and is probably forced to work overtime with most of us. But as a general rule, arrested psychosexual growth is a very poor foundation upon which to attempt to structure a supernatural life at whose heart is a rela-tional thing: charity. Psychosexual Development in Religious. Li[e Let us recall again that psychosexual maturity is affec-tive maturity, affective relational possibility. It is obvious that growth in supernatural virtue is a result of many factors: grace, prayer, sacraments, sound ideas, direction, self-abnegation, emotional maturity, and so on. When we speak of psychosexual maturity, we are not talking about this overall maturity or growth, that is, iri super-natural virtue. We are talking about one element or aspect in it and that a very natural, even clinical one: affective relational possibility. This is an instinctive-emotional cast or posture. It should be clear that it is, therefore, not something I can will into existence, grind into existence through repetition of unselfish acts, play into existence, flog into existence through penance, propa-gandize into existence through conferences. We are simply not talking about this type of thing, the type of thing which can be produced by a simple flexing of ascetical muscles. It is, then, very important to distinguish psychosexual maturity (and its development) from supernatural virtue (and its development). If I miss the difference I will either simply naturalize virtue or go to the other extreme and try to build a supernatural life without a sound sub-structure. This would be to dehumanize supernatural living, hence eventually to destroy it.12 The importance of psychosexual development in re-ligious life could scarcely be overemphasized. It has been said that if the married Iayman remains in the world to serve and save it, the religious stands apart from it to do the same thing. Religious life is, then, an attempt to respond to the call of love of God and neighbor in a very direct way. It is the direct love of service to others. And just as the Word redeemed the whole man, so the religious extends this redemptive action through time to the whole man. Anything else would be inhuman. "Our own sal-vation depends on loving as Christ loves. He cares for the whole man; and so must we if we are to love as He loves." a3 Religious life is, briefly, growing in love of Christ by donating oneself to the total needs of Christ's own. Loving the whole man means loving men as human beings, and therefore even affectively. The greatest hu- See O'Doherty, Religion and Personality Problems, p. 56. Rochford, "Who Is My Neighbor?" p. 117. + Psychosexual Dcoelopment VOLUME 23, 1964 ,4. 4. 4. IL A. McCormick, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS man need is to be loved. For unloved, I remain unloving, withdrawn, self-encased. But when 1 am loved in a full human way, selfhood, personal identity, a feeling of security, a sense of worth and dignity is conferred upon me--the very things which enable me to respond to others as persons, to love them. Thus it is clear that be-cause my greatest fulfillment is the other-centeredness of love (and charity), my greatest human need is for that which creates this possibility; that is, love from others, their acceptance of me as a person. Similarly my greatest gift to them is my self-donation to them because this is also their greatest need. Modern psychology, in uncover-ing the growth process which leads to the ability of self-donation in interpersonal relationships, has not only described a capacity; it has at once described a need. And in doing this it has painted in bold colors the practical content of any act of charity toward men. (As you can see, my perspective is a bit larger than that of mere psychology. It is that of Christian fulfillment.) Clearly, then, religious life which is love of Christ in His children, demands psychosexual maturity, oblative ability, affective self-donation. Without this maturity I risk just doing things for others without really loving them totally in the process. If this is religious life, it will produce dried-up hearts, sometimes hard hearts incapable of loving even God. For we must love as human under pain of not loving at all. The problem, then, which confronts us is: how is one to grow in this affective relational possibility? How can religious life promote such growth? Let me put it more concretely. Imagine, for example, an old religious of instinctively fine virtue, mellowness, and charm. We all know such wonderful people. In spite of lovable ec-centricities (they remain individuals, after all), what stands out so often is their sensitivity of feeling for others, their delicacy and eagerness in responding to the needs of others. They are genuinely spontaneous and happy in serving others; it is apparently easy for them and a source of genuine delight. Briefly, they are at home and adjusted in their deep other-orientation, even emotionally so. Our problem: how did they get this way? Barry McLaughlin, S.J.,14 has suggested that to promote such growth certain fundamental attitudes must be culti-vated: the attitudes of presence, availability, empathy, generosity, and fidelity. By cultivating these the religious presents himself to others; he decentralizes his person-ality from self and goes out to others, is free for them; he identifies with others' sorrows, ambitions, joys and be- ~' Barry McLaughlin, S.J., Nature, Grace and Religious Develop-ment (Westminster: Newman, 1964), p. 80 ft. stows himself by forgiveness and kindness. True enough. But practically how can we cultivate these attitudes? Do we not cultivate things which issue in attitudes? What i now propose is merely tentative. Regard it as a basis for discussion and enlightened disagreement. I suggest we approach the matter analogously through marriage. By seeing growth in marriage, perhaps we can isolate those elements which contribute to psychosexual development and then locate them in religious life. Love of God and neighbor is as much a commandment for and affirmation about the married as about anyone else. The ultimate vocational purpose of marriage in the Christian scheme coincides, in this sense, with the vocational purpose of any other state of life. When two people commit their lives and personalities to each other to forge a corporate "we," they undertake a sharing enterprise whose success and happiness is assured only to the extent that one's life is aimed at giving happiness to the other. One achieves fulfillment by undertaking the fulfillment of the other. "Marriage will be for a man a means of development precisely to the extent that, in full possession of their own personalities, the spouses will make a gift of self to each other and to their chil-dren." 15 But even this sharing and fulfillment must be seen in the Christian scheme as a schooling for something greater, an apprenticeship for fulfillment of the great commandment. As Frank Wessling writes: All of us, married or not, will save our lives by learning to love as fully as possible. If I am ever going to learn to love, I shall have to learn it in my marriage by loving my wife first of all. In that love I have got to see and appreciate variety and degrees, so that when I turn outward to the world and other persons, I am able to love variety and the degrees of goodt,ess I see there,ae By learning to love their own, they learn to slough of[ self-interest and open themselves to love of God and neighbor. Most people do not bring full maturity to marriage. As a Catholic husband wrote me recently: "Few people probably enter marriage adequately prepared for such totality of commitment--but it is a goal to be worked for." Most people have to learn to love, to appreciate the sacrifices essential to it. It is extremely difficult to hdmit practically that love really demands a sacrifice of self for the other. Generally, in fact, if a man and woman are not forced by some external pressure in the beginning to sacrifice themselves, they probably will do a less than a" Planque, Theology of Sex in Marriage, p. 94. lOFrank Wessling, "Is It Immature Loving?" America, v. 110 (January-June, 1964), p. 595. + + ÷ Psychosexual Development VOLUME 23, 1964 R. A. McCormick, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 734 adequate job of sacrificing, hence loving, on their own. Often enough the "pressure" which shatters the romantic illusions and demands very personal payments, personal preferences of others to self, is the child. It is almost providential that just as the couple is beginning to get used to, perhaps even a bit tired of, each other, attention is drawn away from themselves in a way which ultimately forges even a closer two-in-oneness. There is need to prefer others to self. They begin, slowly at first, to ap-preciate sacrifices and to perceive their meaning. As time goes along, they begin to choose them more frequently, even get accustomed to them. 0ther-concern becomes increasingly if unnoticeably (to them) a part of their life and outlook. Their thinking changes subtly over the years. The "we" dominates their planning and thinking. All the while ~their affective liIe has taken on .increasingly the color and tone of other-centeredness. Even their intimate sexual life becomes more more tender, consider-ate, partner-oriented---hence more mature. This process is a lifetime work, but what has been going on here? Clearly there has been growth. The affec-tions have been gradually drained of selfishness. The two have grown closer to each other as persons. The rhythm of their life has taken on a mutuality and reciprocity at all levels. They are identifying themselves as married, as one. But how? What is responsible for this growth? Many things, of course: prayer, graces of the sacrament of matrimony, reception of the sacraments, intimacy, flare-ups, forgiveness, little kindnesses, and so on. For the growth is total. But in so far as this growth is psycho-sexual or instinctive-emotional, I believe I see three elements which stand out at this stage: (1) the existence of an affective relationship toward each other, very im-perfect at the beginning, deeply colored by self-interest; (2) sacrificial acts which gradually purify the affective relationship, center it more pronouncedly on others; (3) at first under pressure, but then more freely chosen. Hence greater auto-determination and responsibility. Therefore this growth is attributable not just to an affective relationship and notosimply to sacrificial acts, but to such acts, resulting increasingly from free choice, within the context of such a relationship. This combina-tion has led imperceptibly to growth in relational possi-bility. Now try to apply this conclusion to religious life. What I wish to suggest is that we must find and promote these three elements in religious life if we are to foster continu-ing psychosexual growth in it. As for sacrificial acts, I think we need say very little. They are built into religious and community living. The second element, increased auto-determination, needs much attention. For religious life, especially early religious life, by training groupwise to a "foreign ascetical ideal" risks produ~:ing conforming automata--especially if we reflect on the early and immature age of entrance into religious life. The sooner the acts and practices of religious life can convert from "pressures" into freely chosen acts, the better. This means one thing to me: early communication of responsibility. I propose that we religious have been seriously defec-tive in this regard. Perhaps we have thought of "educat-ing to religious or community life" in rather external, even military terms. This can lead to identification of responsibility with mere external performance. Certainly the virtues essential to religious life make definite mini-mal external demands. In this sense there mnst be some external uniformity if religious life is to escape the chaotic and it obedience, to cite but one example, is to be identifiable as a distinct virtue. However, the matter of emphasis is important here. An approach to religious living, expecially in what we might call its "external" aspects, demands responsibility; ~or the various external tasks of religious life are simply practical demands, options, suggestions, or extensions of this or that virtue. Virtue implies choice, voluntariety. We should expect, therefore, that the more voluntariety there is, the greater will be the perfection of, for example, the virtue of obedience, the virtue of poverty, and so on. Hence if we are intent on training to virtue (and not simply to external performance) we will be concerned above all with practices which stimulate a more responsi-ble response. More specifically, poverty can be practiced just as well and as exactly by allowing the young religious to retain a certain amount of travel money as by making him ask for it on each occasion. Indeed, one would think that responsible poverty would be more likely produced precisely by such a practice. For it tends more to make dependent use of money a matter of choice, hence more responsible. Poverty is not simply "not having material things available." It is above all dependent use of mate-rial things. Its virtuous practice means that this depend-ence is voluntarily embraced for love of Christ. Of course there will be violations and abuses. But this is the price one must pay if there is to be growth in virtue. There are many areas in which we might profitably rethink our communication of responsibility in religious life: the daily order (for example, time of retiring, time o~ meditation), travel (for example, use of cars), studies, use of money, dealing with externs, adjustments to service of others, and so on. When we over-concentrate on the materiality involved 4- 4- 4- Psychosexual Development VOLUME 23~ 1964 " + ÷ ÷ R. A. McCormick, $.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ?36 (for example, performance of an assigned task), we tend to equate this with virtue, hence with responsibility. This emptieg the notion of responsibility as well as that of virtue with terribly unfortunate effects. Thus it is not uncommon in religious life to find responsibility identi-fied with control of the mop room. Clearly responsibility means more than this. It means just what it says: re-sponsibility in the planning process and in the process of execution. Furthermore, a unilateral approach (over-emphasis on the external) to virtue means that other aspects of the virtue are overlooked. For example, if one's entire emphasis where obedience is concerned falls on "doing what you are told," the virtue is robbed of its true richness. We miss the superior's duty to govern prudently, hence to make the fullest possible consulta-tive use of the subject's prudence. We miss the correlative and sometimes onerous task of subjects of making their reflections available to their superiors--always of course with the interior preparedness to submit wholeheartedly, even eagerly, when the superior's will is final and defini-tive. Finally, if unilateral overemphasis on a single as-pect of a virtue narrows the horizons of this virtue, it necessarily unprepares the subject for later and more difficult tests in this virtue. How many adult failures in religious obedience, poverty, charity can be traced to early failures in the communication of responsibility in the educative process? The analogue to the affective relationship in married life is friendship in religious life. I propose, therefore, that psychosexual development in religious life will be pro-moted by stimulating (1) the sacrificial acts so numerously present and available in religious life; (2) undertaken with increasing responsibility in early religious life; (3) within a context of human friendships. All are essential. For if there is no growth without freely elected sacrifice, there is no affective growth without an affective relation-ship. If I am right in this analysis, one sees immediately the enormous importance of friendship in religious life. For the attitudes which issue from it are "the marks of the charity of the religious man whose task it is to bear witness to the modern world of the possibility of love." 1~ Ifa religious grows in these attitudes, "he will learn the attitudes basic to Christian love. Subsequently he must seek to give his love for every man he meets the character and depth, of his love of a friend.'us I see the problem, then, of psychosexual development in religious life as depending heavily on the existence of friendship. My final remarks will concentrate on this 17 McLaughlin, Nature, Grace and Religious Developlnent, p. 83. is McLaughlin, Nature, Grace and Religious Development, p. 83. point. Affective relationships are going to exist in re-ligious life. We are made that way. It is important that they be sound; that is, that they be true human love. Hence, from this point of view, perhaps our best.practical contribution to psychosexual development is straight thinking about friendships in religious life and incorpo-ration of this thinking into our ascetical ideals. I strongly recommend a recent article by Felix Cardegna, S.J., from which I draw heavily and verbatim in the following paragraphs.19 Marriage is self-giving, self-surrender of the whole per-son symbolized by and attested to by physical surrender. Like marriage consecrated virginity is first and foremost a surrender, a surrender of my whole person, concretely represented and signed by my body. Out of love I lay my sexual secret, so to speak, my capacity for creative sexual love in all its richness in the hands of Christ. Just as corporal possession indicates the totality and exclusivity of marriage, so virginal renunciation spells the exclusivity and totality of one's self-donation to Christ. Consecrated virginity does involve, then, renunciation. But it is important to define exactly what the virgin renounces. There are, as Father Cardegna notes, four components: (1) the pleasure which accompanies the deliberate exercise of the sexual faculties; (2) the affec-rive development brought about by conjugal love; (3) children, the fruit of married love; (4) the affective de-velopment brought about by parental love. These are profound human values and run deep in the human personality. Only when I realize how deeply personal and mysterious and good is the surrender (and self-recovery) of marriage can I begin to see how deeply mysterious, beautiful, and positive is the virginal surrender and conse-quent renunciation. The sublimity of the religious' of-fering is spelled out precisely in the value of the thing offered. But does consecrated virginity renounce human love? By no means. Human love is more extensive than sexual love. Human love is in its essence not sexual but personal, a love between persons. Love's transcendence of self through self-donation does not necessarily involve physi-cal donation of self in sexual union, as we have seen. Indeed it is only when conjugal love can learn to forego intercourse at times that it reveals its truly mature char-acter-- a fact too often overlooked by the recent (and I would add "youthful") and almost hypnotic obsession with sexual intercourse. Because virginity does not re-nounce human love, it should not be presented as so ~o Felix Cardegna, S.J., "Chastity and Human Affectivity," REVIEW FOR RELmlOUS, V. 23 (1964), pp. 309-15. + + 4- Psychosexual D~oelo~m~ent VOLUME 23, 1964 737 R, A. McCormick, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "total" that there is nothing left for anyone else. This would lead to a glowering withdrawal from the human scene. Rather because the surrender is virginal, there is much left for everyone else--and that much is human love. While the virgin renounces married love and its nuances, he does not renounce the love that is human friendship. Indeed it is impossible to imagine a human person as involved in any kind o

Issue 48.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1989. ; Ministry and Ministries On Becoming An Apostolic °Hermit Mid-Life Divorce And Alienation The Readmission of Former Members Volume 48 Number 2 March/April 1989 Revn~w t:or Rt~LIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Soi:icty of Jesus; Editorial Office; 3601 Lindcll Blvd. Rm. 428: St. Louis. MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 per year: $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail. add U,S. $5.00 per year: for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~v~w t:oR Rt~t.~GOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth. MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:v~:w ~'o~ R~:t.t~no~s; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor "~"~ Contributing Editor ~% ~,~,¢~ Assistant Editors °"'~ March/April 1989 Volume 48 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspundence with the editor should be sent to R~:\'~:w ~'o~ R~:~.t~aot~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; SI. [a~uis, MO 63108-3393. Cnrrespondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v~:w ~'on R~:t.~aot~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. la~uis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write Io the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS . Computers easily make available various readouts of statistical in-formation. While I was perusing the printout listings of our January- February 1989 issue, 1 began, to realize how much I take for granted the exchange of information in our contemporary world. This international exchange of information through a journal like REVIEW FOR REL~C~OtJS pro-vides one of the most valuable prisms which exist for expanding our worldview and our unders.tanding of religious life. I want to share with you a few of the statistics about the interriational readership. First, I should call attention to the fact that REVIEW has sub-scribers in all fifty states, the District of Columbia, and the U.S. territo-ries, such as Puerto Rico, the Virgin Islands, Guam, American Samoa, the North Mariana Islands, and the Canal Zone. Roughly this grouping takes in about sixty per cent of our subscription list. Our readers are also from all ten provinces of Canada, including the Yukon and the North-west Territories. Subscribers are also present throughout Mexico, six countries of Central America, ten countries of South America, and throughout the West Indies. REWEff FOR REt.~C~OUS has large numbers of subscribers in the English-speaking countries of Europe, such as England, Ireland, Northern Ire-. land, Scotland, and Wales. But its readership is spread throughout Aus-tria, Belgium, Denmark, France, Italy, Malta, Netherlands, Norway, Po-land, Portugal, Switzerland, Spain, Sweden, and West Germany. The subscription lists are large for India, the Philippines, Australia, and New Zealand, with a widespread distribution throughout the coun-tries. Africa, too, is well-represented, with subscribers from some twenty-two countries, such as Republic of Ivory Coast, Egypt, Ethiopia, Ghana, Kenya, Lesotho, South Africa, Liberia~ Zimbabwe, Nigeria, Uganda, Zambia, Sudan, Tanzania, Swaziland, Sierra Leone, Malawi, Cameroun, and Mauritania. REVIEW also serves readers in Indonesia, Bangladesh, Thailand, Ma-laysia, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Israel, Jordan, Korea, Japan, Taiwan, Sin-gapore, and Hong Kong. As editor, I think that I may want to take a win-ter trip to visit our subscribers from Fiji, Papua New Guinea, Gilbert Is-lands, Solomon Islands, and Western Samoa. These listings do not exhaust all the places R~:w~:w FOR reaches, but perhaps this kind of enumeration can give all of us a greater 161 Review for Religious, March-April 1989 appreciation of the catholicity of the articles we read and the religious life we try better to understand and live. Of course, this international dimension is reflected in the authors who submit manuscripts and in the content matter of the articles submit-ted. For example, in this issue, Father Donald Macdonald, writing from England, reflects upon the situation of Church members in some com-munist- dominated countries of Eastern Europe. Brother Martin O'Reilly shares with us his vocation director's experience, working in Liberia and Sierra Leone in Africa. Father Robert Maloney calls our attention to an impressive lay-movement of young people who serve the poor in Italy. Reverend Paul Casper, who first went to Burma as missionary in 1952 and later served as the first American Dean of St. John's Cathedral in Hong Kong from 1982-1986, reflects on the influence of his fellow An-glican, C.S. Lewis, upon his experience of spiritual direction. As editor, I want to continue to welcome readers and writers from all over the world. REVIEW FOR RELigiOUS will continue to be enriched by the .reflections of people who come from different community, mission, and cultural life-experiences. Through this journal, we are being given a new window--varied prisms--upon our world and upon our religious iives.~ David L. Fleming, S.J. Ministry and Ministries John R. Sheets, S.J. Father John Sheets, S.J. is well known to our readers. His last article, "Spiritual Direction in the Church," appeared in the issue of July/August, 1987. Father Sheets may be addressed at Creighton University; California at 24th Street; Omaha, Ne-braska 68178. In the remarks which follow, I try to distinguish two related but radically different forms of ministry: that which is primordial, the ministry of pres-ence, and that which is functional, activities, some of which are institu-tionalized, others not, which serve to constitute and build up the Church. The ministry of presence is overlooked today. When people speak of ministry they tend to speak only of functional ministry, various ac-tivities which in one way or another build up the Church. However, they forget that the functional ministry is always built on and presupposes a primordial, or deeper form of ministry, the ministry of presence. Though it is risky to use masculine-feminine analogies today, I think that those who can bypass the loaded nature of such language, and re-gain a certain direct vision of those realities, without the prejudices of our times, can spontaneously recognize in the ministry of presence quali-ties which are feminine, and in the mini~stry of function, masculine char-acteristics. I do not mean, of course, that functional ministries belong only to men, and not to women, or that men cannot exercise qualities of presence. The distinction is aimed at calling attention to two related but different modalities of ministry: a mode of being in and with, which is presence; and a mode of being for, which is function. We live in an age which is centrifugal. The self is caught in a kind of cyclotron that empties the inner self as it pours itself into more and more things to do. For this reason in the remarks which follow there is an attempt to recapture the primordial ministry of presence, which alone 163 164 / Review for Religious,. March-April 1989 can vitalize, energize, the ministries of function. In a sense it is an at-tempt to see how the feminine principle of presence lies beneath all other activ.ities within the Church, providing the presence of the Spirit, who alone breathes life into those activities which are ordinarily called min-istry. Without the presence of the breath of the Spirit, ministry in the sense of activity is like those dry bones Ezekiel describes (Ezk 37), strewn about in a valley, lifeless skeletons that have a faint resemblance to a living person. Hans Urs von Balthasar in Elucidations (London: S.P.C.K., 1975, p. 70) describes what I have just spoken of as a kind of "masculiniza-tion" of the Church. "The Church since the Council has to a large ex-tent put off its mystical characteristics. It has become a Church of per-manent conversations, organizations, advisory commissions, congresses, synods, commissions, academies, parties, pressure groups, functions, structures and restructurings, sociological experiments, statistics; that is to say, more than ever a male Church . " General Reflections on the Meaning of Ministry Before going into some specifics in regard to ministry, I would like to give a working description of ministry that will include everything pre-sented in this article about various ways of speaking of ministry. Most of the time discussions on ministry begin with a description of various activities in the Church that are exercised for the good of others, either as individuals or as :a community. This approach is a valid one. But it also tends to play into models which belong to other forms of hu-man activity for the good of any society, not specifically the society we call the Church. Hence, it is possible that, without realizing it, what is secretly at work in discussion of ministry are models coming from hu-man social structures, such as civil society, instead of those that respect the uniqueness of the ministries that belong to the Church. One has to see Christian. ministry in terms of the complete newness of the forms of activity that the Christian calls ministry. The Church, on the other hand, does not exist only as a heavenly city coming downfrom above. It exists in the world in interaction with other societies. It also has similarities with other societies, especially the state, But the danger is to lose sight of the uniqueness of Christian ministry, and to reduce it to secular models. I want to speak of Christian ministry, then, by beginning from a slightly different perspective than is customary. Ordinarily discussion of ministry begins by talking about different activities in the Church as they are exercised by different members. But it might be more helpful to ap- Ministry and Ministries / 165 proach ministry in a reverse direction. Ministries come from awareness of needs that have to be taken care of within the Church. Ministries are always a response to specific kinds of needs. Ministries in the Church then are those activities which are generated within the Church in re-sponse to the needs of the community. In somewhat the same way, all "secular ministries," such as schools, hospitals, civil authority have to be understood primarily as response to needs within the community. There are no ministries that are simply there, self-evident, self-explanatory. Ministries.exist only because they are called forth as a re-sponse to certain needs. They are essentially relative then to the need that calls them forth. They come, go, remain as the needs either remain or come and go. Their importance ranges from fulfilling needs which are essential to the existence of the Church (for example, the ministry of holy ordi~rs), to those which are i, mportant for'its well-being, but not essen-tial tbqts very existence. This,is true both forthe secular notion of ministry, as well as the ec-clesial. But the needs in each case are radically different. Hence, the re-sponse, or the ministry will be radically different. To understand minis-try, then, one has, so to speak, to work backwards, from need to re-sponse. The respbnse in turn depends upon the particular gift, whether of grace or nature, to respond to the need. St. Paul always sees the gifts of ministry in this sense, as Spirit-evoked responses to community needs. Ministry t.hen is called forth by the particular needs of the organiza-tion as social whether the social body is sec.ular or religious. Some of these needs are practically identified.with the continued existence and Well-functioning of the.body; for example, in the state, different levels of auihority are 'called forth from the need to preserve the society so that it keeps its identity and reaches its goals. The importance of the minis-try varies. Its importance is relative to the nature of the need that has to be taken care of. But our question is concernedowith the society called the Church, not secular societies. Ministry in the Church is the Spirit-created response to the unique needs of the new kind of society' that came into the world-through the institutiofi' of Christ and the outpouring of the Spirit at Pen-tecost. The basic needs.to be responded to are those to which Jesus him-self responded. The Church exists only to carry out what Jesus intended in his life and redemptive death. The deepest need of humankind, then, is the.need for redemption. This is the need that Jesus came to fulfill. He had no other purpose. All ministries in the Church are relative to the one basic need, the need for redemption. "166 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 The primary ministry in the Church, then, is that which he commu-nicated to his,,apostles. He breathed into them his own mission or his own ministry. " 'As the Father sent me, so I send you.' He then breathed on them saying, 'Receive the.Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone's sins, they stand forgiven; if you pronounce them unforgiven, unforgiven th.ey remain' " (Jn 20:21-23). He creates a correlation between his ministry which comes from the Father, and the mission of the apostles, which comes from Jesus. They are to minister to the fundamental need of hu-mankind, reconciliation with God and with one. another. Thus th+ fundamental ministry of the Church which is poured into the Church is to respond to a need at the heart of the whole of humanity and even of the universe itself. If this ministry fails, then the mission of Ctiiist is aborted. The raw fundamental need of humankind remains un-touched. "We are still in our.sins" (see 1 Co 15:17). Within that fun-damental ministry, which makes die mission of Christ present, ,there are other subordinate ministries, each of them in one way or another a par-ticipation in the fundamental response to the need for redemption. All forms of ministry in the Church, therefore, are responses to the radical need of humankind, the need f+r redemption. They are not self-actuated responses like those belonging to other socie.ties. They are di-rectly evoked and sustained by the Spirit ~vhose intention is to carry out in the Church what he initiated in the life and death of Christ. St. Paul uses a striking metaphor to bring out ministry as response to need. He calls himself a debtor to everyone. What he owes them is the Gospel. This is the Spirit-evoked gift to answer the radical need in the human heart. M6re than health, money, food, or anything else, the radical need is for Christ. "I am in debt to Greek and to non-Greek, to learned and Simple" (Rm i : 14). The Need for the Presence of Christ: Ministry as a Mode of Being Present As I mentioned in the beginning, it i~ important at the outset to dis-tinguish, ministry according to two different modalities: (a) ministry as presence,, which is a mode of being-with, what I called above, the pri-mordial form of ministry, and (b) ministry as partiizular activities which are ways of doing that flow from being-for others. The latter has to do with activities which flow from and presuppose ministry in the first sense. Most often when people talk about ministry they refer only to doing something. They forget that ministry as we find it in the Church is situ-ated within what is deeper, the mystery of an existence that has been trans- Ministry and Ministries / 167 formed through grace. This transformed existence brings a new mode of presence into the world. I spoke above of ministry as the Spirit-created response to need. The great absence, and therefore, the deepest need, is that of the absence of God in the hearts of individuals and society. The first mode of "minis-try" then is not some particular kind of activity. Rather it is a mode of presence that penetrates a person's whole being. It is a kind of "glory," or radiance that end/elopes a person's whole life. It cannot be located within any one particular kind of activity. "We all reflect as in a mirror the glory of the Lord" (1 Co 3:18). Like a mirror, Christian existence reflects tothe world the presence of Christ. This is the primary mode of ministry. This "presence" or glory comes from the fact that, as Paul says, we are a "new creation." "When anyone is united to Christ, there is a new creation; the old order has gone, and a new order has already be-gun" (2 Co 5:17). He tells the Christians that in the midst of an evil world they are to "shine like stars in a dark world, and proffer the word of life" (Ph 2:13). All of Paul's exhortations about what to do as Chris-tians flow as corollaries from the mystery of their transformed existence as a new creation. The images that Jesus uses to describe the primary ministry of the Christian do not concern specific activities. He calls the Christian salt, light, leaven for the world. The Christian's pri(nary ministry to the world, then, is not some particular activity, but a kind of epiphany of the presence of the New Creation. The most fundamental ministry then is to live the Christian life in its fullness. It is a doing that is identified with their very being. How they live flows from who they are. Very sim-ply it is the call to be holy. It helps us understand this primary form of ministry if we reflect on the fact that all Christian ministry receives its meaning insofar as it takes on the.pattern of Christ's ministry. In Christ, we see the perfect expres-sion of "ministry." All that he does flows from who he is. The myste-rious interaction of Jesus with everyone came.from an awareness of a pres-ence in him Which eluded all categories and particular activities. Similarly his primary activity in the Church is not through specific ministries, for example, orders,.charisms, and so forth. It is the fullness of his presence filling the whole Church. "He put everything in subjec-tion beneath his feet, and appointed him as supreme head to the Church, which is his body and as such holds within it the fullness of him who himself receives the entire fullness of God" (Ep 1:22-23). "Be assured. Review for Religious, March-April 1989 I amowith you always, to the end of time" (Mt 28:20). At center of all particular ministries in the Church, then, is the mystery ~f presence. Christ's own ministry is the Si~irit-evoked response to the most radi-cal needs of humankind redemption, salvation, atonement. "I have a ba, ptism wherewith I am to be baptized, and how I am straitened until it be accomplished" (Lk, 12:50). His fundamental ministry then is to re-veal the Father's love. This love is not only an affective, but also an ef-fective love. The Father shows his love through the redemptive gift of his Son. Hence, the mode of being of Christ is a redemptive mode of being. He is from the beginning the? ',Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world." His ministry then is identified with his whole being. No matter what he says or does, it is always the expression of his gift of himself: "This is my body given for you. This is my blood poured out for you." Christ's presence then is a special mode of presence: a re-demptive presence. All particular activities flow from his pervasive pres-ence as the Suffering Servant. The Church itself has only one primary ministry. It is the sacrament of the presence of Christ. It exists only to bring to the world what Christ accomplished through his ministry, to bring.~the world in touch with the mystery of Christ. All of the various particular ministries in the Church, ways of doing, flow from the primary ministry which is a mode of being present. Similarly, the primary mimstry of the Christian is that of pres-ence where God is absent, to be light in the darkness, leaven in a dead world, salt in a world which has lost its savor. The failure to recognize the primary ministry as that of presence has led to many ambiguities, in discussion of ministry today. One gets the im-pression that greater participation in ministry is only (or mainly) being able to participate in many activities which were closed to a person up to the present. But in reality the primary ministry is to respond by pres-ence to what is absence, or anti-presence. This has always been the pri-mary ministry of the saints, canonized and uncanonized. The m.inistry of presence creates an atmosphere that is broader, deeper, more pene-trating, both stronger and more delicate, and more effective while it is more self-effacing than what is brought about by particular ministries. Yet it has to be admitted that this primary notion of ministry is often neglected~ The activistic mentality that pervades our society sees minis-try mainly as involvement in more activities, o~ in activities associated with one form of ministry, that of Orders. But the ministry of presence is not a matter of this ministry or that. It takes in a whole constellation of activities that identify the New Creation. Th.ey are not so much spe- Ministry and Ministries cific activities as Christian modes of being. St. Paul describes this min-istry Of presence as the harvest of the Spirit: "lbve, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness and self-control" (Ga 5:22). The ministry of presence, then, takes in all of those activities which are gr0upe~d under the names of the spiritual and corporal works of mercyL''When I was hungry., thirsty., a stranger., naked. ill . in prison" (Mt 25:31f). In particular, it takes on Christ's minis-try as the Suffering Servant. "I have set you an example: you are to do as I have done for you. In truth I tell you, a servant is not greater than his master, nor a messenger than the one who sent him" (Jn 13:!5-16). As Paul says, "Let your bearing toward one another arise out of your life in Christ" (Ph 2:5). All of these activities belong to the Christian qua Christian, not to the Christian as having a particular form of ministry. They are insepara-ble from the Christian identity itself. These activities form the primary ministry of,the Christian. I have spoken, then, of ministry as the Spirit-evoked response to needs. The primary ministry is the response to the need for the presence of Christ through the Christian in the world which still needs to be touched by the redemption. This is the ministry that flows from the pres-ence of the New Creation. Presence in torn is not one or other specific activity. It is a kind of epiphany that shows itself in the constellation of activities that irradiates from the New Creation. Ministry on this foundational level is related to specific forms of min-istry as the atmosphere is to thir~gs that breathe. The specific forms of ministry are lifeless unless they live out of this atmosphere that identi-fies the Neff Creation. Yet it has to be. admitted that popular ways of speal(ing of particular ministries in the Church isolate them from their roots in the primary form of ministry, which is a mode of being present as the New Creature to the Church and to the world. It is on the level of the ministry of presence that really important but unheralded ministry takes place in the Church. It is that which belongs to states of life, such as, for example, marriage. The "ministry" of ¯ mother or father is not this or that particular activity. It is a mode of lov-ing presence that creates a kind of a cosmos of relationships which we call the family. Others, for example, a baby sitter, can carry out particu-lar activities that a mother or father also do. But it is only when such particular activities are rfianifestation of the mystery of presence, the mys-tery of motherhood and fatherhood, that such activities create the mys-tery that we call the family. 170 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 The Catholic lay person, like every other Christian, exercises the min-istry of presence. This presence obviously comes to the fore in ways of acting that are spe~:ifically Christian. But those particular activities have their power because they are witness to a presence that makes Christ pre-sent in the whole of one"s life. The p~resence is that of the New Crea-tion, in a quiet hut powerful way emitting signals that show the 'presence of Christ in the secular world. They are like beacohs of light sending rays out into the night, both illumining the darkness an~! attracting people to the light of Christ. Particular Ministries in the Church Finally, after this long buildup, we come to the place where most people usually begin discussions about ministry. They mean particular activities in the Church directed to building up the Church that have ec-clesial recognition. "Above we spoke mainly of ministry as the manifold group of activi-ties that flow from the new mod~ of being which St. Paul calls the New Creation. They are not activities in the same sense as the particularized m~nistries. In the particularized ministries one does something to accom-plish something else. But in the foundational ministry one is not "'do-ing" one thing to accomplish something else. Rather it is a ministry of transforming presence. "To crown all, there must be love to bind all to-gether and complete the whole" (Col 3: 14). "'I may dole out all I pos-sess, or even give my body to be burnt, but if I have no love, I am none the better" (1 Co 13:3). Ministry as a particular activity ~n the.Church presupposes and lives off the foundational ministry which is presence, the presence of the Holy Spirit in individuals making them the New Creation: The Holy Spirit, then, draws individuals into the love of Christ by givingthem gifts to respond to particular needs in the Church. St. Paul's description of.min-istry always presupposes the presence of the Holy Spirit in the individ-ual not simply as an individual but as a member of the Church. Gifts are given to individuals to enable them to fulfill a need within the Church. Presupposing, then, the fundamental ministry of presence, St. Paul speaks of various ministries which the Holy Spirit calls forth to respond to various needs. While each is izalled to the primary ministry of radiat-ing the presence of Christ to the whole (the fundamenthl ministry), there are particular functional-roles within the community called forth to re-spond to a whole range of different needs, some more essential than oth-ers. Paul describes some of these. "And these were his gif!s: some to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teach- Ministry and Ministries / .17"1 ers, to the building up of the Body of Christ" (Ep 4:1 !-13). "Now you are Christ's body; but each of you is a different part of it. In the Church, God has given the first place to apostles, the second to prophets, the third to teachers. " (1 Co 12:18f). However, the primary ministry, the ministry of presence, with love as its animating principle, should animate all the particular ministries. "Be ambitious for the higher gifts. And I am going to show you a way that is better than any of them" (1 Co 12:31-13:1). Then he goes on to describe the ministry of all ministries, the mystery of love as the primary "ministry" to which we should aim. Ministries on this level have to do with the whole social unit, the whole Church. They reorientate a person's whole existence to take on a specific kind of relativity,from Chr.ist,for the Church. This reorienta-tion is such that it modifies in a new way the person's Christian iden-tity. There are three modes in which the presence of the New Creation is radicalized in an individual: the sacraments of baptism, confirmation, and holy orders. Theologically the term "character" describes what St. Paul calls the metamorphosis, the change in the inner structure of a per-son's life (2 Co 3:18). This is the radical reorientation of a person's whole being, first of all, through baptism to become the New Creation, to respond to one's own radical need--the need-for redemption; then, through confirmation which takes presence to a new dimension, orien-tating the baptized person to the needs of the whole Church; then, through holy orders which radicalizes in a person Christ's own gift-presence, making a person "steward of the mysteries of God" (I Co 4:1), a person whose presence is to draw forth the New Creation. The traditional theological term, "character," then, describes three modes of the presence of Christ in the New Creation. Flowing from these modes of presence are different kinds of activity. I have commented briefly above on the mode of presence that comes through baptism and confirmation. These are modes of presence and ac-tivity which belong to all Christians by virtue of their baptism and con-firmation. It is what is specifically called the mini~stry of the laity. Within that mode of presence there are many kinds of activities, as, for exam-ple, that which belongs to those who are married, or to those engaged in secular occupations in the world. I shall comment briefly on the kind of presen.ce that belongs to the priest. It has two sides. The priest mediates to the Church and the world the presence of Christ. On the other side, the priest draws the whole of Review for Religious, March-April 1989 the Church into the presence of Christ. Like John the Baptist the priest is to introduce the Bride to the Bridegroom, and the Bridegroom to the Bride. Priestly ministry has a.single purpose: to bring about the New Crea-tion- to nourish, sustain, and guide the New Creation by word and sac-rament. All of priestly activity then is some form of transubstantiation, that is, to change the old reality into the new. The priest's whole being is to transform the world by touching it with the redemptive event of Christ. The priest lives from Christ, for the Churchl' But at the heart of all ministries in the Church is the radicalization that takes place through baptism which brings into being the New Crea-tion. Confirmation and orders have their roots in the new mode of pres-ence of Christ in the individual and the Church through baptism. Con-firmation draws out another aspect of the giftedness of the New Crea-tion, that is, the apostolic dimension to "let your light shine before oth-ers . " Orders is a gift of the Spirit presupposing baptism which em-powers individuals to draw forth from the "old creation" the New Crea-tion, through word and sacrament, and to direct the community in the ways to live out the implications of the New Creation. Problems Associated With Ministry St. Paul describes ministries as the work of the Holy Spirit in call-ing responses from within the New Creation to particular needs within the Church. The images he uses always suggest harmonics or coordina-tion. In a sense, the Holy Spirit is like a conductor calling .forth from each individual player in the symphony that which leads to the harmon-ics of the whole piece of music. One of St. Paul's favorite images to bring out the .sense of harmonics of ministries is that of the body, where the whole exists for each part, and each part exists for every other part, as well as for the whole. "There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord, working in all sorts of different people; it is the same God who is working in all of them" (1 Co 12:if). The words "same Spirit," or the "one Spirit" oc-cur about ten times in the passage to show that ministry is a Spirit-evoked response to different needs. The same emphasis is found in Ephe-sians 4: If. "Do all you can to preserve the unity of the Spirit. , there is one Body, one Spirit . . . one Lord, one faith~ one baptism, one God." It is interesting that Paul's extensive description of the interplay of the gifts of the Holy Spirit for the good of the whole Church is found mainly in a community where there was the greatest.disharmony, the Ministry and Ministries / "17'3 Church at Corinth. He is therefore calling attention to a special kind of sin, the obstruction of the power of the Holy Spirit in the very persons who are called to build up the body of Christ. But the situation at Corinth does point to what have always been three problems with ministry in the Church: (1) the failure to see minis-try as the Spirit-evoked response to different needs within the Church; (2) the failure to see that each ministry has its meaning not in itself, but only insofar as the foundational ministry of presence animates it; (3) the adaptation of the uniqueness of Christian ministry to secular models. I shall comment on these briefly. (1) The problems in the Corinthian community that turned the sym-phonic movements of the Holy Spirit into groups of warring factions have always been part of the sinfulness of the Church. Basically it is the problem of what in Jungian psychology is called the "persona," the pub-lic image a person seeks before the eyes of others. The symphonic na-ture of ministry becomes discordant when one's attention turns from the ministry in itself to an awareness of the public image associated with dif-ferent ministries. The attention then is not on what the Holy Spirit is do-ing through one's ministry, but on the way ttiat one's own glory appears before others. Some even felt they got a better public image by the fact that they were baptized by a person associated with such an image-creating personality, for example, the eloquent and gifted evangelist, Apollos, in contrast to someone like Paul who apparently did not pro-ject such an image. (2) The second problem which has plagued the Church in her past history, as well as at the present, is tile dissociation of the ministry of doing from the primary ministry of being or of presence. For this reason Paul insists that though the Corinthian Community exercise all of the other ministries, even to the point of giving all they have to the poor, or giving their bodies to be. burnt, yet if they are isolated from th~ min-istry of presence, of being, that is love, (hen all activities are like activi-ties of a corpse. There might be much activity, very busy people, but it does not carry the life-giving power of the Spirit. It is dead. The lack of holiness in those who are supposedly the New Creation has been the biggest obstacle to the work of the Spi.rit during the whole of the history of the Church. (3) The third problem, related to the first two, comes from a failure to recognize the uniqueness of ministry in the Church. Ministry in the Church is a reversal of all notions of service that we find in societies that owe their existence to some natural cause, for example, the state or the 174 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 family. In these societies, a person enters at a certain level, then makes every effort to move to the top, with increase of salary, prestige, power, and the expansion of the "public image" as one works to the top. In the process, whoever is above is a threat because the one above stands in the way. Those who are below are looked on as inferior. Judgments about the importance of different "ministries" are always made accord-ing to the ladder\of the upward-bound movement and then more specifi-cally to what rung of the ladder one is on. This problem has always been with the Church. It was practically im-possible for the apostles to put this new wine into old wineskins. They argued who was the most important. Then Jesus taught them, "If any-one wants to be first, he must make himself last of all and the servant of all" (Mk 9:35). The sons of Zebedee asked Jesus, " 'Grant us the right to sit in state with you, one at your right and the other at your left.' Jesus said to them, 'You do not understand what you are ask!ng. Can you drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism I am to be baptized with?' " Jesus tells them that if he as master and Lord has washed their feet, then they should wash one another's feet. This is a symbolic way of describing Christian ministry. Paul says, "Rivalry and personal vanity should have no place among you, but you should hum-bly reckon others better than yourselves" (Ph 2:3). I am sure there are many other problems that have to do with minis-try today. Some are organizational problems, others from many of the feminist questions. The ones I mentioned above are attitudinal. They have always been with us, and are with us today. They can be at work also in other problems such as organizational or the feminist issues. I can-not imagine people agitating for a job which, for example, would mean that they would take a salary cut, pay more taxes, have longer hou.rs, and work anonymously. The Christian notion of ministry~ is even more out-landish than that. Ministry and Religious Life In his Apostolic Exhortation on the religious life, The Gift of Redemp-tion (March 25, 1984), Pope John Paul II presents what is probably the most profound theology of religious life that has ever been thought out. He roots religious consecration in the New Creation that comes into be-ing through baptism. Religio6s life then has its primary ministry in what we spoke of above as the ministry of presence. It is foundational to all other particular forms of ministry. But the presence that forms the fundamental ministry of religious life takes on a particular paschal duality. It is to image forth the life of Jesus Ministry and Ministries as the Suffering Servant. It exists to show forth the duality that belongs to Christ's own paschal mystery. The paschal duality means that one and the same reality has two related aspects: the cross (sacrifice) and the res-urrection (the New Creation). The vowed life of the religious, then, is to bring into the world a particular modality of paschal presence. That is the fundamental ministry: the ministry of the paschal presence. But there are particular ministries which religious congregations ex-ercise for the good of the Church and society. When we look at the his-tory of the Church in our own country, these ministries are numerous. Some of the majors ones are education, hospitals, orphanages, care for the elderly, but there are many others, including the contemplative life of intercession for the Church. Other forms of particular ministries have emerged over the last twenty-five years. But it is the foundational ministry above all which must activate all particular ministries. To quote Pope John Paul: "It is precisely this wit-ness of love that the world today and all humanity need. They need this witness to the Redemption as this is imprinted upon the profession of the evangelical counsels" (no. 14). "From this witness of spousal love for Christ, through which the entire salvific truth of the Gospel becomes par-ticularly visible, there comes., as something proper to your vocation, a sharing in the Church's apostolate, in her universal mission . . ." (no. 15). He goes on to speak of the particular apostolates. Then, "And thus, even though the many different apostolic works that you perform are ex-tremely important, nevertheless the truly fundamental work of the apos-tolate remains always what (and at the same time who) you are in the Church. Of each one of you can be repeated, with special appropriate-ness, these words of Saint Paul: 'For you have died and your life is hid with Christ in God' " (no. 15). Conclusion Questions about ministry are very much with us today. Many of these questions were brought up in the recent synod on the laity. But the end results did not bring much clarification. Perhaps the most positive result was to bring an awareness of the need for a theology of ministry that relates ecclesiology, pneumatology, grace, sacraments, and voca-tion. I am sure that the synod wa~ an important step along the way to clarification. As the history of the theology and development of doctrine show, clarification of issues that touch the life of the Church very pro-foundly is a long process. .What I have tried to do above could be summed up as follows: (I) since ministry belongs to a unique reality, namely, the Church, which "176 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 is, so to speak, held together 'from above,' through the Holy Spirit, min-istry in the Church is unique, and cannot be reduced to service as~we find it in any human society; (2) ministry is not self-initiated but originated by the Holy Spirit in order to respond to needs, some of which are con-stitutive of the Church, for example, sacrament of orders, and others which depend on historical, sociological factors; (3) the primordial min-istry is that of presence, which cannot be limited to presence of the Spirit "because God's love has flooded our inmost heart through the Holy Spirit he has given us" (Rm 5:5); (4) particular ministries address par-ticul~ ir needs within the Church or the w.ay the Church interfaces with the world; (5) three main problems were singled out: (a) the use of min-istry to glorify oneself; (b) the shift from primacy of presence ("the more excellent way" which Paul describes as love) to a primacy of par-ticular ministries; (c) the subtle adaptation of the gospel paradoxes about ministry ("Then if I, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you ought also to wash one another's feet" (Jn 13:14) to promotional mod-els taken from secular societies; (6) finally, I spoke of the particular min-istry of religious, whether active or contemplative: it is the ministry of a special mode of presence, a kenotic presence, which translates the words of Jesus, "this is my body given up for you . . . blood poured out for you" into the three evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, obe-dience, creating a paschal presence which animates all particular minis-tries. Come and See: An Experiment in Vocation Discernment in Africa Martin O'Reilly, C.F.C. Brother Martin O'Reilly, C.F.C., does vocation counseling work in Liberia and Si-erra Leone. His address is Christian Brothers; P.O. Box,297; Monrovia, Liberia. ~lln unkind joke, certainly thought up with post-Vatican II religious life in mind, asks: how do you join a small religious congregation? Answer: join a big one and wait. It is, however, a joke that would not be under-stood in many parts of the Church, particularly in Africa. Let me explain. Between 1975 and 1985 the number of local priests rose in West Africa by a staggering 630%; local sisters increased by 280% and'brothers by 340% (Statistics compiled from L'Englise Catholique en Afrique, edited by Pere Perraud, Pontifical Missionary Union, France, 1987). T.he prob-lem for many seminaries and religious communities in the younger. churches is not so much trying to attract candidates, but to find ways in which to sort out the wheat from the chaff. This article will focus on the ways in which vocation counselors can effectively carry out their ministry in situations where the large numbers applying for entrance to religious communities, the newness of the ,~o-cation to many people, and the particular backgrounds of the applicants make it difficult to accurately assess the. seriousness of an application. If the postulancy is to really be a preparatory period for entry into the. novitiate, and not simply a sorting out of suitable candidates from the unsuitable, then there is need for some kind of system of deselection prior to that. A method for doing so is what is proposed here. It is the result of my own involvement over these past five years in vocation coun-seling in Liberia and Sierra Leone. 177 "17~1 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 The Game Plan ~ Perhaps the best way to begin is by saying how I don't carry out my ministry: I don't advertise; I don't give talks in schools or churches; I don't have a telephone; I don't have my own means of transport; and I am not fulltime on the job. I prefer, rather, to spend a couple of weeks, five or six times a year on the road, covering some 3,000 miles or so, visiting those who have contacted me. I stay with them in their town or village, and meet their family and friends. Just as an ordinary friendship grows, so does mine with .those who have expressed interest in the life of a Brother. Through the people who have invited me to visit their homes, I have met others who want to know more about the religious vocation. Many people have joined our community through a friend or relative introducing them to me. Since b~ginning in my ministry in 1982 I have developed a network of contacts that r.uns into the hundreds. When my relationship with an applicant has developed past a cer-tain point, I then invite him to "come and see" where 1 live. I invite him to spend ten weeks with myself and the community. Apart from help-ing with his transport costs, he has to arrange his own travel documents and come under his own steam--just as any person would have to do, were he or she to travel and visit a friend in a far-off place. The idea behind the ten-week vocation discernment program is for candidates and the community to experience each other for a sufficient length of time, allowing both parties to get to know each other, and to see if they are compatible and willing to grow together in community, prayer, and service. :Who Is Invited? ~ There are fivemarkers I would look foi in a person suitable for ac-ceptance into the pre-postula.ncy program (I am presuming that an appli-cant is baptized and confirmed as a Catholic, has reasonable references and is in good health): (I) An applicant must have shown evidence of being able to commit him-self to a group within the Church (for example, The Legion of Mary, St. Vincent de Paul, Y.C.S., or a prayer group) for a substantial period of time. Simply "attending Mass'? regularly is not enough evidence of a commitment to the Church within the African context. (2) An applicant must have "nets to leave behind." The economic con-dition of many of the countries in West Africa is such that the vocation . of a priest or a religious can be a very attractive proposition. It offers a person security and status, to say nothing of sanctity! Those straight Come and See / "179 from school are not usually in a position to have ~proved their compe-tence in the art of living and providing for themselves. With few excep-tions school-leavers have the added problem of not seeing entrance to a religious community as anything more than pursuing "further stud-ies." Those who apply, and have no job, I advise to look elsewhere. (3) The family of an applicant must be able to understand what decision a young person is making in asking to join a religious community. There has to be some significant member of the family, not necessarily a par-ent, who supports his intention. The applicant, for his part, must explain to the family that all he is trying to do is to "find God's will." If he finds out that it is not God's intention forhim to be a religious, then he should tell them that he will return home a wiser person; but if it is, then he must explain thathe will be returning to join the community as a pos-tulant with, hopefully, the understanding and support of his family. (4) An applicant has to be able to see that there are difficulties for him in asking to join a religious community. His ability to talk of his'fears about the demands of a celibate life are as good an indicator as any of the degree of his seriousness. If he cannot see this as a tremendous chal-lenge, then I tell him that he probably has not thought enough about the vocation. (5) With regard to the intellectual ability of an applicant, it is essential that he be capable of tertiary education. A person's particular paper quali-fications do not always reflect his academic ability, so it is not appro-priate to apply the same rules for entry to everyone. A candidate should certainly have finished his secondary school education and not beqook-ing to resit exams at a later date. If I am unsure as to the suitability of a person applying for the pro-gram, I will give him the benefit of the doubt; but when it comes to en-try into the° six months postulancy, and I am s.t!ll unsure of his suitabil-ity, I give the benefit of the doubt to the community and ask him to look elsewhere for his vocation. The Rationale Behind The Program The pre-postulancy program, as outlined here, is conceived of as an extension of the vocation counselor work, .rather than the beginning of religious formation. Those selected for the prograrfi--never more than twelve--are fully aware of the temporary nature of the experience, and understand that at the end of the program they may, or may not, be in-vited to apply for admission to the postulancy program. For most of those entering the program, this will be their first expe-rience of living in a multi-cultural environment. Great care, therefore, 180 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 is taken to make our candidates feel at home--if not, then they will prob-ably wish they were at home.! We have found that candidates, at this stage of the life in a religious community, prefer to share rooms and need ample opportunity for settling in ,and' being themselves. It goes without saying that the personnel involved in directing the program are comfort-able living with young people and are prepared to trust them. I have found that for a pre-postulancy program to work well, there must be a group of candidates with a specified program to follow. Sim-ply inviting young Africans to come and live with a religious commu-nity and to occupy themselves with some form of pastoral work is not a sufficient basis for helping them understand the meaning of religious life. Candidates need clear guidelines so as to help them negotiate the difficulties in living in a structured environment with others from differ-ent backgrounds and cultures. Growth in appreciation of the meaning of religious life will take place when candidates begin to experience the com-munity as sufficiently safe and supportive so that they can be themselves. However a person presents himself prior to joining the community, he cannot maintain a pretense for long when invited to participate in a strong community experience. Candidates, also, can be so concerned with try-ing to match our real or imagined expectations of them that they find it difficult not to think of themselves as playing the lead part in a drama scripted by others. As far as is possible I make the agenda of our daily living together the responsibility of all and try to foster a sense of ac-countability among them, a sense that "we are in this together." For people to encounter themselves, others, and God in a real way there has to be a ring of authenticity about the experience. I am espe-cially interested in exploring with those invited to join the program their notions about themselves, talents as well as weaknesses; the ways in which they handle questions relating to anger and misunderstanding~ sexu-ality and intimacy, and obligations towards family members--as well as the ways in which they enjoy praying. Matters spe(ifically related to the meaning of the vocation to the religious life, I leave for later on in the p6stulancy. Hopefully, as a result of this approach candidates come to build up their identity as members of the community and as people of prayer on more than the superficial foundations of rules and ritual. Sometimes formators can be afraid to get close to c.andidates, pre-ferring to treat them in h remote fashion. This is, 1 feel, wholly unac-ceptable within a cultural climate where tactile contact and verbal com-munication are so important.~Shaking hands, giving hugs and passing the time of day together are as natural to Africa as the sunshine. Most of Come and See 181 those applying to join us have encountered a good deal of opposition from their friends and family. They need to know from the outset that they are really welcome into the community, not simply for who they might become, (that is religious brothers), but for who.they actually are. That is not to say that there is no room for tough love, but simply that the most effective direction will be given by the formator who is capa-ble of sharing his or her affection for the candidates in concrete ways. A crucial element in thesuccess of the "Come and See" program has been the close presence of professed religious, actively involved in the mission of the congregation, and a novitiate community prepared to welcome candidates, albeit for only ten weeks, into the religious fam-ily. Both professed members and novices have provided a tangible ex-pression of the ideal and the possibility of becoming a religious candi-date. The director of the program is also supported by this in the com-plex business of evaluating applicants to the postulancy. Counseling and helping people discern their vocation is very much, at this stage, a group experience. The value of regular or weekly com-munity meetings, with the opportunity of bringing into the open any is-sue of concern to individuals or the group, cannot be overestimated. If something important to one or more of the candidates is being intention-ally avoided by the community, then nothing of importance will be ta~ked about either. Our weekly sessions start with a review of the pre-vious week and points arising from the reading of the community jour-nal take up the first part of the meeting. I have known that part of the meeting to go on for two hours. The principle of dialogue in Africa seems to be "to talk until you agree"! The length of the program--ten weeks--is long enough for both the candidates and the community to come to have a fair idea of one another, and yet short enough for a person to feel as though he has not burnt his boats by leaving home to enter into a religious community. Having a ter-mination point after ten weeks, instead of say six months, lessens the .chances of early drop-outs and an accompanying lowering of morale 'within the group. It also makes candidates feel free to reevaluate their own decision in the light of their experience of religious life and leave without recriminations, should they feel that such a life is not for them. Conclusion In the five years that the Brothers' Formation Center has been in op-eration in Gbarnga, Liberia, forty-two candidates have completed the "Come and See" program. To date, we have eight postulants, four nov-ices and ten junior professed. Most of those who have left us did so at 1~19 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 the end of the pre-postulancy program, and left in good spirits. Those who entered the postulancy, and have stayed with the community, say thai the important thing about the pre-postulancy program was that it was religious life "small, small" and hence made them able to realize the importance of being themselves within a culture (religious life) vastly dif-ferent from the 6he they were used to. They were more able to relax and relate to the idea of becoming religious once they knew that they were accepted for who they were; and not who they might become. If those who enter the postulancy do so with some semblance of realism in terms of themselves, and the firm knowledge that "it. is indeed good when brothers dwell as one," then there is a reasonable chance that they can give themselves fully to the significant step of embarking upon the path of becoming members of the Congregation, and I as vocation counselor will have don~ my job. Assessing The "Moral Integrity" Of Candidates For Religious Life Charles Shelton, S.J. Father Charles Shelton, S.J., has a doctorate in clinica! psychology and is currently an Assistant Professor of psychology at Regis College in Denver, Colorado. A more detailed understanding of this theory of conscience is presented in his most recent book, Morality and the Adolescent: A Pastoral Psychology Approach. New York: Crossroad, 1989. His address is Regis College; 3539 West 50th Avenue; Denver, Colorado 8022 I. Over the past twenty years, it is safe to state that the application process for entering reli~ious life has radically changed. Gone are the days when a simple behavioral observation of the candidate's religious practice or the encouraging word of a religious who knows the candidate suffices for entrance. Instead, the application process for most orders and insti-tutes focuses on a thor~ough social history, detailed interviews, psycho-logical evaluations, and an overview of the candidate's sp!ritual life. Sur-prisingly, little has been written regarding one crucial aspect of the ap-plication process--that of the candidate's moral integrity. This article ad-dresses this issue by offering a theoretical yet practical view of the can-didate's capacity for moral growth. The linchpin which holds together the candidate's vocational aspirations with his or her moral integrity is "conscience." Accordingly, we will provide a model of conscience and suggest a practic,al approach which will be of use to vocation directors and interviewers of candidates. The thesis of this article is that the "moral integrity" of a candidate is a crucial area of assessment and that a perspective which utilizes an integrative understanding of conscience offers the best way for providing a thorough examination of the candi-date's capacity for living the moral life. 183 11~4 / Review for Religious,~ March-~April 1989 ,The Moral Life of the Candidate Perhaps one reason that little has been written about the candidate's moral life is that one simply "assumes" that anyone wishing to enter priestly ministry or a religious congregation possesses an upright moral character. Although understandable, such a position remains question-able. Any vocation director can readily provide stories about candidates who express interest .in religious life, many of whom are ill-suited for psychological reasons, as well as at times "moral" reasons, for proceed-ing with the application process. The question of the candidate's moral integrity, however, has taken on new significance over the past two decades. Several reasons can be offered why serious examination needs to be given in this area. First, many candidates seeking to enter religious life today are ~lder. This be-ing the case, the backgrounds and experience of the candidates provide an often admirable, yet at times puzzling, array of experiences. Many involved in the candidate selection process at times wonder what has re-ally gone on in the life history of the candidate. Secondly~ the psycho-logical nature of candidates often admits to a complex personality struc-ture which is threaded with a variety of motives and psychological ex-periences, not all of which are compatible with the demands of the re-ligious community.For example, I was once presented with a situation about a candidat~ to a diocesan seminary. The candid.at~e had. admitted to several questionable behaviors but now contended that a conversion experienc6 had resolved these issues. Since I did not know the candidate, I refused to offer an opinion regarding his suitability. I did suggest, though, that given the behaviors in question careful scrutiny must be given this person's motives. The capacity for rationalization is virtually limitless. Thirdly, the complexity of today's ministerial roles and struc-tures necessitates a well-developed and well-defined moral conscience Which allows flexibility, sustains insight, and fosters behaviOr~ which are~ healthy and which nurture moral integrity. The recent scandals surround~ ing sexual acting out among priests and religious necessitate a.well-integrated conscience which assists a person in reflecting 6n his or her own vocational commitment. All in all, conscience remains the single most vital human mechanism for assisting an individual's living of dis-cipleship. As a consequence, it becomes important to offer a view'of con- ~Cience that is'integrative and best captures the human desire to live the life of Christian discipleship. As a clinical psyChologiSt my own view is that for conscience to make sense it must be intimately rooted within the very human experience of life; indeed, conscience must arise from The "Moral Integrity" of Candidates / 185. the very depths of human experience as it responds to the self-commu-nicating presence of God's offer of grace. This perspective allows the very moral integrity of the person to be encapsulate~l within the reality of h.~uman life and surface in the very depths of human personhood. Ac-cordingly, I think that conscience is best explained as the decision for other-centered value in the concrete decision of everyday life. That is, conscience serves as the capacity to appropriate more and more the Chris-tian dynamic of love in the existential reality ot~ one's life. It is the one force .within life that serves to break through deceit and self-deception and challenges one to strive for a more authentic living of discipleship. In order to see this clearly, I would like to offer a model of con-science that incorporates seven dimensions. My thesis is that only an ex-amination of these seven features will allow a more complete and thor-ough understanding of a'person's capacity for moral int'egrity. As a way to assist the application process of candidates, I will offer specific com-ments and questions that are applicable for a candidate seeking to enter religious life. Through an eva, luation of these seven dimensions, a more adequate sense of the candidate's moral integrity can be ascertained.~ Evaluating for Moral Integrity Within a model of conscience, the following seven dimensions should be considered. Adaptive Psychic Energy. We are what we focus on and experience. Stated another way, what we give attention to offers insight into the type of person that we are. Psychic energy is required for all human endeav-ors. Indeed, perceptions, thoughts, emotions, attachments, and behav-iors ~all rely upon an adequate investment of psychic energy. At the same time, psychic energy is itself limited. One has only so much energy to invest. Thus, to tend to certain tasks and goals precludes, by necessity, investment in other ventures. Developmentally, psychic energy is best utilized in the successful resolution of developmental tasks. Applicants seeking to enter religious life require careful scrutiny of both their level of identity formation as well as their capacity for intimacy. Most likely, individuals who are without a sense of healthy identity or a balanced and mature sense of the demands, ambiguities, and feelings associated with intimacy are susceptible to the pull of a pervasive dependency or the un-due influence of others (or environmental situations) which deflect needed psychic energy for spiritual growth. Moral growth is most apt to take place when one can bring to one's evolving and (increasingly. con-solidated) ethical self the accumulated wisdom derived from a felt (yet evolving) sense of "who I am" and the felt attachment (yet continual 186 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 self-discovery) that "I am loved and I do love." Some needed questions to consider in this regard include: To what extent does this ~:andidate know who he or sh~ is? How influenced is this candidate by his or her own needs or by the influence of others? With what degi'ee of self-awareness can the candidate speak of a sense of self-definitioh? Does there exist appropriate intimacy experiences in this per-son's life (or for yoUn(er candidates, the maturing capacity for inti-macy)? Has this candidate's sense of identity and intimacy allowed for greater self-awareness that is capable of dealing with increasing ambi-guity and the com, pl~xities of adult (and religious) life? Defensive Psychic Functioning. Healthy growth is dependent upon adap-tive psychic functioning which incorporates mature defense mechanisms. Defense mechanisms are psychic operations whose function is to allay anxiety and.p~rovide a more flexible and adal~table resPonse to reality. Healthy defenses include sublimation, a flexible and resourceful sense of humor, role flexibility, s~ppression's"(the conscious contro~l of im-pulses), and altruism. Needless to say, the living in community and the demands of the chaste life require wide use of these defenses in order that the religious might integrate and deal with sexual and aggressive urges. Community life, the constant demands of the apostolic life, and the need to continually appropriate the ideals of the vowed life require an adaptable and flexible approach to others. On the other hand, there exist a' wide variety of defense mechanisms which are apt to prove un-healthy for living and which in turn stunt moral growth. These include: projection (the attributing of unacceptable feelings to others); externali-zation (the blaming of one's difficulties on others); acting out (the ac-ceding to impulses); rationalization (the making of excuses); stereotyp-ing (theorefusal to allow and accept differences); and compartmentaliza-tion (the excluding of one area of life from self-examination). A classic example of this last defense is the person who lives a credible life as a religiousin most areas of life, yet refuses to look at one area such as sex-ual acting out. As the candidate becomes less able to marshal mature defenses, the inevitable result is a limit of self-knowledge and of reflective self-awareness needed for interior examination. Naturally, this form of lim-ited psychological functioning is bound to impact on the discerning of choices or a balanced and realistic reflection on personal life issues. Some pertinent questions are: Does the candidate rationalize'? exter-nalize? project? and so forth. What does personal responsibility mean for this candidate? How comfortable is the candidate with his or. her ira- The "Moral Integrity" of Candidates pulses? How does the candidate sublimate? How does the candidate deal with ambiguity? To what extent is creativity possible for this candidate? Empathy. Conscience is not only rational reflection; it includes emotional investment and attachment. Empathy best exemplifies this emotional ex-pression since it points to the capacity to bond and show sensitivity to others. Normally, empathic expression is not an issue for religious. How-ever, there exist several areas for scrutiny. Does the candidate overem-pathize? The person who cannot maintain healthy identity boundaries is apt to lose objectivity. Further, when empathizing how does the candi-date deal and integrate his or her empathic stirrings? How self-aware is he or she of emotional distress which arises from pastoral situations which often elicit intense internal feelings? This issue is critically im-portant because burnout (an ever present problem for members of caring professions such as those in religiousolife tend to be) often results from continual exposure of the self to empathic distress (experiencing the pain and hurt of others in pastoral situations) which, over time, wears down the religious both physically and emotionally. This burnout in turn less-ens the capacity for reflection, healthy objectivity, and discerning choice. Self~esteem. Adequate self-esteem is indispensable for maturation. S;~lf-esteem refers to a felt sense of inner goodness and a sense of self-competence. There are several ways self-esteem relates to the candidate's level of moral integrity. First, without a healthy sense Of Self-esteem, a person is psychologically limited in the capacity to admit personal fault and the seeking of forgiveness. Lack of self-esteem leads invariably to over-compensating behavior and desires for control; or, conversely, there exists denial~ of responsibility or rationalizations. Without self-esteem the religious who hurts a fellow community member is disinclined to view himself or herself as bearing responsibility for the hurtful action. An equally problematic behavior that is likely to surface from lack of self-esteem is over-dependency on the behaviors and thoughts of others. In other words, the religious who lacks a felt sense of "inner goodness" is vulnerable to being overly influenced by another. Consequently, such "neediness" is likely to evoke blindness regarding personal action and the rationalization of specific behaviors. Several questions come to mind that could be integrated into an as-sessment of the candidate. First, does the candidate genuinely "like" himself or herself? Is the candidate capable of independent and mature judgment which is open to input and guidance from others? At the same time, are there indications that this candidate is overly dependent on ob- Review for Religious, March-April 1989 taining a good impression from or the approval of others? Guilt. Feelfngs of guilt exact a tremendous toll on the psyche. They can be'the source of debilitation leading to weakened self-esteem, depres-sion, a sense of personal devaluation, and compensating behaviors which often take on a compulsive quality. Still, there is a vital, indeed neces-sary role for guilt in moral development. Healthy guilt serves as a vital linchpin'in orienting one to awareness of personal transgressions and the need for forgiveness. Furthermore, such guilt' experiences induce a re-sponse that is caring and sensitive to the concerns of others. Admittedly, the experience of guilt is one of the most difficult psychological tight-ropes to walk. If experienced too intensely, its effects can be crippling. On the other hand, to deny the experience of guilt deprives the self of' a naturally occurring psychic experience whose function nourishes increas-ing sensitivity and altruistic responding. My own impression is that many religious downplay the vital role that guilt exercisesin the experience of forgiveness, I suspect this is most likely due to many religious' own back-ground and difficult time with guilt feelings. Several questions are pertinent. How. has the candidate dealt with moral transgressions in his or her own life? Can he or she discuss them? Is there a sense of openness and also a healthy distance from these past experiences? What has the candidate learned from these experiences? Is the candidate still reacting to them? How does,the candidate speak of his. current limitatiohs? How does the ~candidate believe that he or she needs further growth? Note here the view of growth from a sense of positive integration as opposed to a compulsive sense of goals to be accom-plished. Idealization. The role of idealization is vital for the development of a healthy moral sell It is within our capacity for 'idealization that the can-didate 'is able to construct a view of the order or congregation and the personal desire"to enter religious life. Idealization speaks of dreams, hopes, desires and what the ca.ndidate wishes to become. It implies a mold~ ing process of gradual evolvement which is shaped from images and hopes yet to be realized. Idealizations indicate the quality of one's emo-tional investment and the underlying values to which the moral self is committed. Several questions are pertinent.~,How realistic is the candidate's view of self? religious life? It is to be expected th~at the view of both self and the order/congregation might be somewhat distorted; and the issue b'(- comes how open 'is the candidate to having his or her idealizations rfiodi-fled? A further question refers to the capacity of the candidate to deal The "Moral Integrity" of Candidates with disillusionment. Since idealizations are so valued, the failure of them to occur or be implemented can lead to tremendous hurt and an-ger. Behaviors emanating from such perceived slights and disappoint-ments include acting out, cynicism, passive-aggressive behavior, ration-alizations. In other words, the negative affect resulting from disil-lusionment can cloud healthy moral reflection and an authentic living of the vows. Teleology. A final dimension of the well-integrated conscience is a re-flective sense of purposive meaning. A teleological perspective is sim-ply one's capacity for rational reflection which provides reasons ("that for the sake of which") why one's behavior is carried out. Candidates to religious orders and congregations, of course, are capable of reasoned and reflective behaviors. The issue here is more the "style" of one's telic inclinations rather than the content of the reasoning. In other words, most people could give reasoned responses for their behaviors. The key for mature functioning, and most certainly for moral functioning, is the motivation behind such reflection. Tendencies to be observed include the following: Does the reasoning of this candidate contain a healthy per-sonal investment? Is there an emotional investment in his reasons? Con-victions are most apt to be lived out when they contain a mature blend-ing of reasoned reflection and emotional commitment. On the other hand, does the candidate isolate affect? Does he or she appear to sepa-rate reasons from the emotions which such content would naturally elicit? For example, a candidate who would,speak of a particularly disturbing experience in a cold and very intellectualized way might well not be aware of underlying emotional dynamics. On the other hand, the candi-date whose rationales are continually interspersed with an impulsive qual-ity or tinged with emotionally laden content might be too absorbed in de-veiopm+ ntal issues or underlying dynamic processes to offer healthy dis-tance and the requisite discerning that is needed for moral decision mak-ing. Conclusion This article has underscored the significance of exploring the moral integrity of applicants in any overall assessment of candidates. It is ar-gued that moral development is not simply a process of doing right or wrong. Rather, growth in the moral life is a complex event best exem-plified as an integrative process emanating within the rooted experiences of human living. In the assessment process itself, an exploration of the candidate's past life history is imperative. Equally important, though, is assessing some quality of the candidate's capacity for moral growth. This 190 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 article argues that optimum moral growth for the candidate is most apt to take place when the following qualities are present: appropriate work-ing through of developmental issues, a realistic and adaptive view of self and others, a caring sensitivity, the capacity for admitting wrong, a healthy sense.of self-esteem, aspiring ideals that are realistic, and reflec-tive reasoning. Though no assessment procedure can accurately predict a candidate's ability to live consistently the moral life, it is well worth the efforts of those involved in the formation process to address every candidate's capacity for moral integrity. An Easter Prayer Love's force is stron.ger than the pull of dark: It can level mountains, raise the dead To a new life, and strengthen weary feet To walk on waters, piled rough waves of night. Its breath can blow the dying coals to light A tunnel black as pitch and radiate The way round pitfalls and sucking s~nds Even to the long, long corridor's end: Chain love's force in tomb with rock-seal tight, Beat it level on Friday's cross and still After three-days He rises above The morning sun in Tabor splendor. See how He moves unhindered through barred doors, All His glory sta.mped on hand and foot and side: Balm to festered sores of Calvary, Now free from binding shroud and fastening nails. Oh, Beacon Light at the end of the sea's corridor, Ointment spice for hurt eyes and wounded hands, Oh, Summoning Bell, buoyant to all our stumbling feet, Help us, Risen Christ, to walk life's dark waters! Marcella M. Holloway, C.S.J. 6400 Minnesota Avenue St. Louis, Mo. 63111 Comprehensive Counseling David Altman, O.C.S.O. Father David is a monk of Holy Trinity Abbey; Huntsville, Utah 84317. At one time or another during our lives, individuals will come to usfor the help they think we can give. Whether or not we find ourselves ex-pert in various kinds of problem-solving, we ought to be able to help them identify problems and be able to present recommendations. Perhaps the key to success in relating to and helping others is to see personal relationships as Christian ministry. The people we meet are, of course, Christ himself, in one of his many disguises. They are also our current pastoral assignments, to be met with faith and self-sacrifical love. Upwards of 85% of helping others consists.in listening: listening at-tentively with compassion and understanding. At times we will be called upon to respond, and this must not be done tritely, but intelligently and constructively. The Approach The secret, if there is one, of a good approach to solving personal problems is to meet each person-situation comprehensively, which is to say, completely. This simply means that we have to use a method which will ensure that problems are not permitted to get by undetected. We want to throw out a net, so to say, which will catch and identify all the difficulties from which a person is suffering. A way to do this is to realize that we human beings are basically three-fold in our makeup: we are physical beings, mental-psychologi~:al be-ings, and moral-spiritual beings, Obviously, then, we can have three gen-eral kinds of problems: physical, mental-psychological, and moral-spiritual. 191 Review for Religious, March-April 1989 These categories are not mutually exclusive since they all pertain to one human person in each case. I have found them useful in my own coun-seling experience because they are complete: they are the net from which no problem need escape, provided that each category is kept in mind dur-ing communication with the person who is seeking help. Competency Few of us are competent to handle difficult cases of pathological na-ture. Of course, those with severe illnesses are to be directed to pro-fessionals with the appropriate expertise. Psychotics need psychiatrists or psychologists; seriously sick bodies require medical attention; and mor-ally ill people need men and women who can show them God's healing ways. Because we presumably are these men and women of God, we ought also to have a certain competency in identifying problems in the other two areas of each person: the physical and the psychological. The body-soul unity is the temple of God's Spirit, sharing intimately in the spiri-tual life of each of us. Therefore our desire to, help the suffering Christ in others ought to carry us beyond spiritual and moral interests alone. Though we may not have the professional training by which we can solve a probiem fully, our working knowledge of various problems en-ables us to provide reasons to a person of his (or her) need for another with more expertise. Simply remarking, "You need a doctor" can be a slap in the face for one who is in pain. We should be able to convince another of his need for help, and perhaps even supply a good name for reference. Difficulties One of the greatest difficulties in attempting to solve individual prob-lems in any of the three areas is to give a suffering person What we want instead of what he needs. When a medical doctor sees a patient, the as-sumption is that the patient has a medical problem. Tunnel vision can take over, and physical medicine is all the doctor can see, whereas the patient's main difficulty may be in a quite different area. It is not un-usual for doctors to listen to remarks such as "I'm not feeling well" and respond with great pastoral concern: "Here, let me give you something for your nerves." This is treating the, sympto.m rather than attempting to identify the underlying cause, the root problem. When a person sees a psychologist with a problem, the psychologist will usually presume that the problem lies within the bounds of psycho-logical expertise. This too may not be the case at all. Remember the story Comprehensive Counseling / 193 of the man who went to a psychologist with a physical ailment that was impinging on his nervous system. "I feel terrible," was the complaint. The doctor responded unwaveringly with talk therapy and persevered in missing the mark. There is little sense and even less success realized in forcing one kind of solution on an entirely different kind of problem. Equally futile and costly is the failure to address real problems in favor of their symptoms. Worse still is the failure of the health-care specialist torecognize a ~prob-lem, then write off the patient as a hypochondriac. This is no solution, only an excuse. When religious or priests are approached for counseling, we nor-mally presume, in our turn, that the person is simply looking for a closer relationship with God, and we proceed accordingly and unfortunately. I remember a person coming to see a religious for years, feeling terrible for a great deal of her time. The counselor came across very generously with saccharine exhortations to a deeper relationship with the Lord. The individual responded with nodding smiles as tears of pain continued to roll down her cheeks. The religious was giving what he wanted, not what the person needed. As it was, the individual had developed a severe case of hypogly-cemia, diagnosed laterby a physician. And, as counselors should know, fluctuating blood-sugar levels have very much to do with a person's emo-tional dispositions. As soon as the suffering person said, "I feel terrible," that was the tip-off for aphysicai condition. After all, we can only feel, bodily, through our nervous-system cells. When they are offended, they are go-ing to let us know about it, one way or another, In addition to hypoglycemia and diabetes, people today are subject to stress situations--and with widely varying nutritional needs. Medical science today knows that under these stress conditions the body gobbles up vitamins and minerals to an enormous degree. Since the B vitamins, vitamin C, and calcium predominantly nourish the human nervous sys-tem, a deficiency is going to show up with contributions toward various kinds of problems: mood swings, nervousness, anxiety, anger, irritabil-ity, depression, compulsive sexual problems, insomnia. Any nervous-system- related problem can be caused or made more burdensome by the severely deficient diets that are practiced today throughout our junk-food land. One person complained of not feeling quite herself: irritable, even biting toward others. I learned that she had just recovered from the flu, Review for Religious, March-April 1989 which is just one of the stress factors we experience. I suggested a vita-min- mineral supplement on an as-needed basis, and the problem was cleared up. A third physical difficulty, also masked as spiritual or psychologi-cal, is the problem of intolerances. Pioneer medical research has shown that all kinds of personal difficulties are really the human body's reac-tion to ~,arious environmental factors: food intolerances certainly, but also paints, finishing substances, and other chemicals, even artificial light-ing. PhysiCal problems are the first options to explore in c~unseling. They are the most quantifiable, and perhaps the easiest to identify, if not to solve. Relationships People have trouble with relationships, and each of us has three re-lationships in life: a relationship with God, with others, and with one-self. Problem areas are identified by determining the quality of these three relationships, and there are many tip-off statements that come your way as a~counselor. They come voluntarily to the listening ear, and they can be elicited .by asking the right questions. For example, a counselor can determine the quality of someone's re-lationship with God by asking for details about private and communal prayer-lives and: about fidelity to known moral obligations :in 'marriage and work-commitments. Listening to descriptions of interpersonal rela-tionships can reveal much. On one occasion I heard, "They're pickin' on me." This could be true, or it could be a defense. In this particular case, "they" were not the problem. I was talking to the problem. We all enjoy the forbidden luxury of finger-pointing, but we should be mos'e aware that whatever we do, whatever~we say, whatever we wil.l-fully think, we are always saying something about ourselves. We behave out of what we are. Often individuals will present their relational difficulties in terms of an impossible situation with absolutely no way out. The answer is the awareness of the great difference between a real relational situation, and the particular way it is described. Simply reframe the problematic situ- ¯ ation. Discard the impossible description, redescribing the circumstances yourself, so as to provide as many solutions as you can. This takes imagi-nation, and first attempts will result in grasping at straws. But hold on to the straws, as they lead to stronger, more promising answers. It should also be clear that principles of good counseling are appli-cable not only to others,,but also to ourselves. In this connection there Comprehensive Counseling / 195 is a check on the judgments we must make in order to help others: the golden rule, the virtue of empathy, placing oneself in the other's shoes. These principles demand questions such as: Would I follow this advice myself? How would I feel were this advice given to me? Would I bene-fit from the behavior I am planning to recommend? The measure of the quality of any relationship--with God, others, or oneself--is the answer to this question: How does the individual han-dle conflict? We are all fair-weather friends of God, of others, especially of ourselves. But the true measure of a person's strength of character and personal integration is how one stands up in adversity. Do we respond to challenges with virtue and resultant, growth, or with vice and rebel-lion in its many forms? : We cannot give what we do not have; we can only give what we have, so the personal problems we carry around are going to show up in relationships with others. Do they handle re!ational conflicts with at-tempts at reconciliation and peace, or are they inclined to antagonism, revenge, and consequent alienation? Vices In the course of counseling experience, we come across the problem of evil: evil circumstances, evil behavior. We are all sinners before God, and before each other, a fact which ought never to be discounted in problematic relationships. We meet people who sin against God, against others, against them-selves. One of the best favors we can do for them is to help them admit and own their own evil. It is a mistake to try to identify every problem medically or psychologically. Wrongdoing must be identified, owned, and corrected. We are admittedly honest and generous in assigning praise for vir-tue and for any good act; we must be just as honest in recognizing and assigning vice (evil habits)and sinful acts. How we speak about this to others is important, but the honesty must be there, because the only way to solve a problem is to' face it. The love of Christ is a challenging love, because it is only through challenges that people grow. We must often challenge others' behavior, challenge their sin, challenge our own sin. It is these challenges which are the cross-experiences of our lives and the meaning of suffering. We grow through challenges into the strength of character that we need, to live life well, and to die well. These challenges or crosses hurt, because growing pains always do hurt. But the rewards are well worth the perse-vering effort. Review for Religious, March-April 1989 After the apparently innocuous complaint "My life seems to have no direction or purpose," aofew questions were able to uncover a some-what profligate sex life, little or no prayer, and a difficult family back~ ground. Well, we are all products of our background, but we never need be slaves of our backgrounds: Psychotherapy can be of great healing bene-fit; so can a humble confession of guilt with attendant petitions for for-giveness and :mercy; so can the healing power of prayer: holding up bad memories in prayer, exposing them to divine remedies. Whatever difficulties we:have had to endure, they tend to force upon us burdens and pressures which are often channeled compulsively as they please. Kn~owing that our two main emotion-vices are anger and lust, we see that compulsions can spell big trouble. As a result~ people gravitate toward giving up dominion over their own beings:~They become slaves of various emotions and habits. Indi-viduals abdicate the kingship or queenship of their beings in favor of an-ger, lust, drive for power, vain ambitiow, money, prestige, or another person. Taking steps to become one's own man, one's own woman, elimi-nates this slavery, and the first and most important step is fidelity to God ~nd his laws governing human living. This is i'eal love, which will in-variably be returned in greater measure, because w'e love a God who will not be outdone in generosity. Conclusion This contribution has also been called comprehensive because it is only an overview. There is no substitutefor common sense in counsel: ing, and no substitute for prayer. The Jesus Prayer o~: another prayer,of aspiration before, during, .and after the counseling session deepens the session in God, exposing both parties to divine healing power and spe-cial graces. We are ourselves healed as we heal others, because with our love, our desire to give.God to others,' we find that the same generous God gives to us in response to our needs. We offer the gift of our lives to the suffering Jesus in others,', and he returns this gift with his own life and gifts: the graces we need to accomplish our healing task well, and the grace to grow through our own physical, psychological, and moral prob-lems into the personal sanctity ordained for us. The Power of Romantic Love William F. Kraft, Ph.D. William Kraft, Ph.D., is well known to our readers. Dr. Kraft is on the faculty of th~ Psychology Department of Carlow College where he may be addressed: 3333 Fifth Avenue; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15213. ~1 don't know what's gotten into me, but I do know that I'vemever felt like this. I never thought I could feel so alive, so open, so good. Since becoming friends with Sarah, I feel more confident; it's as though prob-lems don't bother me like they used to. I function better, I'm more open, and life just seems to finally make more sense. Especially when I'm with Sarah, I feel light, energetic,optimistic. It's as if almost anything is pos-sible. "Some sisters label our relationship as exclusive, or God forbid: par-ticular. In some ways, I guess it is. I know I can hardly wait to see her, to spend the weekend with her, to go on vacation with her. And some-times, I think I yearn too much to be with her. And yet, how could some-thing as wonderful and good be bad? True: sometimes we get a bit too physical, but never genital. We really strive to be chaste, but it's diffi-cult at times. I would like to be more physical, to give all, but I know that would be going out of bounds. "Before my friendship with Sarah, I was sort of happy. I was a good teacher and got along okay in the community. But ! always had the feel-ing that I was missing something important, that life should be more than getting by or maintaining the status quo. And I was always kind of shy or constricted. It was as if I had all these flashing red and yellow lights in my mind, and now there are more green lights." This sister has fallen romantically in love--one of our most invigo-rating and seductive modes of love. She has been lured into and is en- 197 Review for Religious, March-April 1989 joying the experience where almost anything seems possible and almost nothing seems impossible. Feeling more courage and confidence, old problems seemed to have changed and new possibilities have emerged. And her friend seems to be the center of her life, the source of her new vision and strength. Her life is so much more alive than her relatively constricted past. Understandably, she wants more of this new life. Such is romantic love. Listen to this male religious. "Something incredible happened to me this summer. While finishing my master's degree, I fell in love. I met. Carol, and my life changed. It wasn't as if I had a game plan; it wasn't even on my mind. It just happened. "It's great. I've never been so open in my life, especially with a woman. I share everything, and it feels so good. We hold nothing back, and we seem to know what each other is thinking and feeling without even saying anything. It's magic. She's on my mind and in my heart all the time, and I can't wait to see her or at least call her. Thank God she lives in the same city. When we are together, time goes so quickly. A few hours seem like a few minutes. "I think others would say that I've been a good religious. I've done well in my ministry and have gotten along in my community. I am grate-ful to my fellow brothers and priests. So it is difficult to think about leav-ing the religious life, and neither is it an easy question for Carol. We love each other very much, but we also love the religious life. And it has been good to us. "When you asked me what is wrong with Carol, I was stumped. I know she is not perfect, but I don't see or feel anything wrong with her. And I feel so much better myself. I'll take your advice to wait until life settles, and not make a hasty decision that would change my entire life. True, I have known Carol for only four months, but it seems like I have known her all my life. "Why shouldn't I leave. True, it would be difficult to find a good job, and family life would certainly be different. But I could still do much of what I do now, and I feel that being married to Carol, I could even be closer to God. I will, with the help of you, my friends, and God discern my experience. But why would God give me such a beautiful gift and then expect me to reject it?" Indeed, romantic love is wonderful. Although this man has been a very rational, successful, and good community religious, he finds him-self in a serious dilemma: to leave or stay in religious life. His past has been good to him, and he to it, but his future seems to offer an even bet- The Power of Romantic Love / 199 ter life. Being immersed in the magic of love, he feels strongly drawn to this land of apparently unlimited possibilities. Both of these religious are enjoying and being inspired and chal-lenged by romantic love. Their love consumes them, embracing all their senses, mind, and spirit. Radically new horizons of meaning have opened up, pressuring them to restructure their lives. What should they do? In this article I will discuss the nature and dynamics of romantic love, its positive and negative possibilities and consequences in religious life, and ways to cope with oneself and others in service of healthy and holy growth. The Nature and Dynamics of Romantic Love Romantic love lures us into a world where there is nothing dull and mundane, a world that promises a new and better life. It offers us an ex-hilarating and inspiring unity of feeling intensely and of being strongly involved with the ideal. To experience transcendence passionately can be awe-fully seductive. Romantic love offers us an exhilarating and inspiring unity of feel-ing intensely and of being strongly involved with the ideal. As romantic lovers we yearn to be with each other, constantly think about and feel for each other, and so it seems touch each other even when we are physi, cally absent. Being without each other, we feel an intense void as well as presence in absence, and being with each other brings warmth, secu-rity, and fulfillment along with this sensuous enrapture. We initially ide-alize each other, feeling that we can do and share anything, and be our most perfect selves. We feel what love can be without its limits, and we want to give, to be,and to receive all that is possible. There is a special magic--a passionate affair with the ideal, an experience of heaven. What happens when we fall romantically in love? Initially we prob-ably feel as though we are walking on clouds, and that everything is pos-sible. We experience each other in terms of perfection, while our imper-fections are denied, minimized or rationalized. We may feel thatwe want to live together, to capture this love forever. This romantic time is one of the most exciting, pleasurable, and satisfying experiences. In the in-itial stages of friendship we may experience new possibilities in testing our limits, risking our vulnerability, feeling more alive than ever before, and willing to do almost anything. We may feel that everything is possi-ble and all right, and that life is radiantly alive. Our romantic friendship usually inspires us to become our best selves, and often new energy and courage provide the way. We can have romantic experiences in solitude. For instance, we may 200 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 intensely feel the spiritual possibilities of contemplation. We may expe-rience a world of meaning that is transcendent and permanent. To ask ultimate questions and to be confronted with mysterious issues can be a peak experience. T° hear silent music can include the romantic. Romantic lovers--religious, single, or married--initially experience the unlimited potential of each other and concretely celebrate each other's perfection. However, paradise does not last; our romantic time is usually followed by one of imperfection. Sometimes suddenly, instead of experiencing each other as unlimited, we intensely experience our limi-tations. We find ourselves criticizing, obsessed with the other's imper-fections, or perhaps withdrawing from each other. Think of a sister and priest (or lay couple) who fall in love and get married. At first, they radiate with love and cannot stand to be without each other. But sooner than later they begin to test and question their love, and at times cannot stand to be with each other. Instead of diviniz-ing each other, they now demonize each other. For instance, minor hab-its may become irritating. One squeezes the tooth paste from the middle and the other from the ind. His snoring upsets her, while her hair curl-ers upset him. More seriously, she becomes frustrated and angry because he no longer shows his feelings as he apparently once did. He becomes confused and angry with constant complaining about his overworking and in general his unavailability. Whatever the focus of criticism, they focus on eacffother's limits, as contrasted with their past when they en-joyed their unlimitedness. Instead of heavenly, being with each other feels more hellish. Their magic has disappeared. Consider a novice who experiences religious life as a perfect way of living. Particularly in early formation when there is considerable personal affirmation, exploration, and direction, religious life offers extraordinary opportunities for individual and communal growth. However, "reentry problems" may be experienced when a new religious moves from the no-vitiate to living in an ordinary community. Community living seems rnuch~different than it was in the novitiate, or how it was ideally de-scribed. The inevitable imperfection of living with others may feel more like a burden than a joy. A danger is to identify religious life (or any life form or person) with its perfections and possibilities, or with its limits and obstacles to growth. Like any personal (and professional) life, there are more or less problems and opportunities. Positive and Negative Seduction As its etymology indicates, seduction conveys a negative meaning, namely, some thing, activity, or person that leads us astray or into The Power of Romantic Love / 201 trouble. And indeed, this can be the case. However, seduction can also have positive meaning in luring us to a better life. One reason romantic love is important is that it can be a prelude and invitation to a more committed love. Its strong attraction, gentle excite-ment, and erotic idealism make it easier, more enjoyable, and exciting for us to enter love. Since love, especially intimate love, is a risky ven-ture, romantic love makes the entry into love relatively easier, safer, and moi'e fun. It is a delicious taste of heaven. But like food, its satisfaction is temporary, and if we eat too much of that elixir, we can get sick. Ro-mantic love is an intense promise of a more permanent love that is both ideal and limited, erotic and transcendent, for the moment and forever, pleasurable and painful, divine and demonic--a love that embraces and dignifies all of us. If some of us knew the total picture of religious life, especially its hard times, before entering religious life, we may have had second or third thoughts about making a life commitment. Strictly from a rational-istic view, religious life may not have been as appealing. Fortunately our Holy Spirit called us with an alluring voice. Likewise, some of our friend-ships may never have occurred without romantic love's promise of an even .more balanced, wholly, and permanent love. To be sure, not all men and women entered religious life or friendship in a romantic aura. But many did, and few people live without any romanticism. Our spiritual journey with and toward God can also include romantic times. It is not unusual to go through a time--or times--of being roman-tically in love with God. We may suddenly feel that anything is possi-ble, that everything will turn out all right, that everything makes sense. We may bask in a divine light while minimizing, forgetting, or even re-pressing darkness. Although there is much truth in the vision, dark nights will come in service of a deeper and more realistic presence to God. Romantic love is not only a means toward an end. When immersed in romantic love, it is good to celebrate and proclaim our romantic stand in the world. Our experience is a witness to love and often promotes hap-piness for others. We can also build a precious source of memories that can help us gain perspective when going through difficult times. And in-deed as authentic lovers we can, though not constantly, congistently cele-brate times of romantic love. Helping Oneself and Others Think of two religious who care for each other and become close friends. Initially, they may idealize their relationship so that it is basi-cally exclusive. At first, they may wonder how they ever li.ved without 202 /Review for Religious, March-April 1989 each other. Especially if one or both persons have had restricted feelings of affection, now they can feel free to express themselves without re-straint. They feel liberated and more wholly alive. Their "particular" friendship, however, soon incorporates limits and obstacles. For in-stance, they discover that they can irritate and confuse each other, and :they can become hurt, angry, jealous, and perhaps guilty and ashamed. Instead of harboring resentment, or ending the friendship, both persons can step back--physically, psychosocially, and spiritually--and listen to themselves and each other, and hopefully return to renew and deepen their friendship so that it includes both their positive and negative dimen-sions. The challenging ideal is that both the light and dark sides of life be integrated, rather than absolutizing one of them. In fact, these experi-ences point to and affirm what life is--both divine and demonic, light and dark, life and death. When we experience a person as perfect, it is helpful to keep in mind that every person is imperfect. When there are disagreements, past agreements can be remembered as well as agreeing. to disagree. Our challenge is to see potential virtue where there is vice, strength where there is weakness, joy where there is sadness, love where there is hate, life where there is death. Courage and commitment are needed to move with and grow from life's paradoxical rhythm. Although romantic love is particularly enjoyable, the genuine desire to give one's self totally to another p~'esents challenging difficulties. Be-cause of the affective and ideal qualities of romantic love, we may nei-ther want nor perhaps experience any limits, and consequently may yearn to give unconditionally in every way pogsible. As religious we may yearn to celebrate our love in genital experiences, but we can say "no" in serv-ice of a "yes" to our love. What can superiors, friends, or other community members do when they observe religious in romantic love. Particularly when the exclusivity is causing little community I~arm, the wisest approach may be to do noth-ing, that is, to let romantic love run its course from the divine to the de-monic. However, when infatuation occurs or the dark, limited phase ap-pears, interveution may be called for. What you d6 depends on the kind and amount of power and responsibility your superior and others in re-sponsible roles have, as well as what you are willing and able to do, par-ticularly in being willing and able to invest the time and energy on con-fronting, processing, and following through with consequences. A superior may choose to confront a priest with his infatuous friend-ship. Confrontation means to state assertively and with concern what you The Power of Romantic Love / 203. observe in the other's behavior. It does not mean to interpret or analyze a person's behavior, nor does it include verbal oppression or emotional rape. We give feedback, and depending on our authority, we state natu-ral and logical consequences of one's behavior. For instance, if you con-tinue to date this woman as well as isolate yourself from the community, then counseling must be pursued or you will be transferred to another city, or you will be asked/told to leave. It is important to remember that although we impact on one another more or less positively and negatively, we cannot change anyone. We can give others opportunities, feedback, advice, consequences, and so forth, but only they can change themselves. We can only change and con-trol ourselves, and this is accomplished within varying degrees of lim-its. Authoritarian, codependent, and other well-intentioned and overly responsible people may find this fact difficult to accept. Ideally, a radical decision (for example, leaving religious life) or a life commitment (for example, vowed religious life) should not be made in either the so-called divine or demonic phases of love. When we are madly in love and experience no imperfections whatsoever, a life com-mitment is precarious. And we should be equally as prudent about mak-ing radical decisions, those that significantly irnpact on our lives, while in a demonic phase. When life is overwhelmingly dark, any light or re-lief can be tempting. It is better to wait until light emerges in our pre-sent situation--to wait until we make more sense of our struggle and be freer to choose. To paraphrase an old saying: the darkest and coldest time is right before dawn. Ideally, we should also not make a decision for life only out of ro-manticism or infatuation--when there are no limits or imperfections, but rather when we can be open to both the positive and negative factors of our past, present, and future situations. For instance, a brother who falls in love with a sister may be in the divinizing stage of romantic love. When asked what is wrong with his beloved, he may say nothing con-crete. Until he can point out experientially what is positive and negative about her and himself, it is probably better for him to wait before mak-ing such a radical decision such as leaving religious life to get married. A decision to leave, not because of romantic involvement, but be-cause nothing seems right and satisfying is quite tempting. When under enormous stress, we can be duped into feeling that a change in lifestyle will solve personal and interpersonal problems. It is more likely that we will take our problems with us and unconsciously seek a similar situ-ation. It is wiser to look at and deal with the dark side in ourselves and 204 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 then make decisions. In short, authentic committed love is never perfect or divine, and nei-ther is it always imperfect or demonic. It is a combination of both. When on earth, life and love are matters of heaven and hell. If authentic love were perfect, commitment would not be necessary, there would be heaven, not earth. Because we are a unity of perfection and imperfec-tion, commitment is called for. Seed I .know interpretation has rules, But they should not freeze mystery. Why can't metaphors step between parables, And people and plots mingle? The sower, for instance, and the birds on the wayside who fed, the birds Who never fall unknown any more Than the bum thrown out of the bar And the starving, potbellied African baby. How wide is the wayside'? Past oceans And deserts and ranges and space to Ultimate doing of truth in love? And the rocks (poor Peter), are they always shallow? Have you seen those rock walls on roads Where, in spite of technology, a stubborn Wild shoot adorns the crazy face of An impossible height? or the sturdy Root that splits concrete apart and Frees the seed of a water main (prodigal spill)? Then There's the child who patiently pulls the Tufts from the cracks between bricks And scatters the clumps for the wind To sow next season's crop and chore. But the thistles--I don't know about them. I cringe at the vision of crowns And wonder if scarlet hands too Can drip the seeds of the realm That the sower went out to sow. Clarita Felhoelter, O.S.U. 3105 Lexington Road Louisville, Kentucky 4020'6 The Experience of Mid-Life Divorce and AlienationI David J. Hassel, S.J. Father David Hassel, S.J., is currently Research Professor of Philosophy at Loyola University of Chicago. The contents of this article will be part of his forthcoming book called The Ache of Alienation. His address is Loyola University; 6525 N. Sheridan Road; Chicago, Illinois 60626, Helen,s husband had confronted her a year ago after a very quiet dinner. "Helen," he had said, "there is something we have to talk about in the living room while the kids are out." They had sat there through a long silence before he said in a rush of words: "I want a divorce; I cannot go on living as we have been--distant, on parallel courses, never really meeting. The kids already suspect something and are old enough to han-dle this now. I've made a decision and no talking will change it. I don't want to hurt you anymore than I've already done. My lawyer has drawn up the legal papers; you'll be taken care of financially." Helen, her voice sounding like cracking ice, had said to him: "Joe, it's Anita, isn't it. That day down at the office I saw the glance you gave her--like the one you had once given me." "Yes," he said, "but we are not going into that." Helen could recall herself slowly getting up, slowly going up the stairs to her room, throwing herself on the bed and beginning to shudder with great dry heaves. No tears, only a terrible emp-tiness. When during the course of the following weeks, she had been alone with each of the children, she had received some additional shocks. Jim, the twenty-two year old just finishing college, put it simply: "Look, Mom, where have you been the past two years? Dad has been home less and less, and telling less and less what he has been doing. What have 205 206 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 you been thinking?" The twins, Edith and Carol, high school seniors, were rather casual: "Morn, this is the way things go these days; you have to be ready for the worst and this is the worst, no doubt about it." Timothy, the twelve-year old, was inconsolable: "Dad's leaving us be-hind and it's unfair; I hate him now. But what can we do? I guess we just get used to it the way Jerry Kanz did when his Dad moved out." Helen, like many another to-be-divorced woman, had looked back over her life and wondered bitterly: Where did it start to go wrong? Where did I fail? Except for Timmy, the children seemed so casual about it all. Were they simply ungrateful, without any affection for her and Joe or were they covering up their anger and disappointment? Her telephone call to her mother had caused a flood of tears and a scalding anger-- more at Helen's stupidity than at Joe's two-timing. Her favorite brother had only said, "Well, the bastard finally owned upto it, did he?" Women friends had been properly shocked and consoling for some weeks; then the telephone calls became less frequent and one friend fi-nally said to her: "Honey, you have to stop lamenting and get your life together--without Joe; the sooner the better." All her doings had be-come meaningless: cooking meals, house-cleaning, shopping, bridge-clubbing, fulfilling the immediate needs of her children, attending Mass, telephoning friends, volunteering at the hospital, watching TV late into the night. Then the depressing guilt-fits began. Why were her children so un-feeling unless she had failed badly in their upbringing? Why had she not noticed sooner her husband's wandering and done something to woo him back? Had she become an insensitive creature herself? Were all her friend-ships superficial, revealing her own lack of depth? Was all her busyness merely a way to hide from herself who she really was: an empty shell of a woman? How could even God find time for her anymore? Actually her past seemed gutted, her present confused and her future dark with anxiety. The Woman Religious' Parallel Experience of "Divorce" Helen's experience, in one form or another, is that of thousands of wives and mothers as divorces continue to multiply across America. But is it so very different from the experience of not a few women religious who at mid-life review the past ten or twenty years of their own lives and wonder where their prayer-union with Christ has gone? The woman religious has been living the regular routines of a life consecrated to Christ: spending some time with him before breakfast and before heading to bed; taking care of his people in hospital, school, day- Mid-Life Divorce and Alienation care center, parish, and social work office; making some friends along the, way; watching TV and going for occasional walks; attending family gatherings, and centering her life in daily Eucharists. But in everything she feels hardly any feedback of gratitude or joy. If she is a social worker, she may have been called a meddler by the fam-ily whose children she has seen through hospitals, remedial reading courses, and angry bouts with their parents. The high school teacher of twenty-five years' experience may have been told by a lay colleague that she is twenty years behind the times in her teaching techniques and thirty years behind in her understanding of today's high schoolers. The sister-nurse may be overwhelmed with the ugly fact that her order's hospitals are now big business and that she had better play it safe with charity cases lest the hospital's budget-report show red ink. An almost exhausted sister may be informed by her superior that if she cannot take this job of religious coordinator at the disorganized St. Dismas parish, she had better find another job.to earn her way. Meaning seems to have drained out of her work. The once beautiful routines connected with teaching, nursing, administrating, catechizing, parish organizing, and social work-ing feel drab, spiritless, and unending. Meanwhile, because of her busy dedication to her order and its works, she has allowed her own brothers and sisters to fade out of her life as they moved to the distant coasts and as she wrote less and less ¯ often. Her parents have become elder.ly, somewhat absent-minded, eager for her presence but hardly able to carry on a relaxing conversation, and evoking melancholy in her at their decline and helplessness. Her sister-friends are as busy as she; glad to see her and to chat for a time, but al-ways on the move to another appointment: little time for long leisurely conversations, not many fun times." Because she is one of the few younger sisters in tier older community, she may have to assume greater responsibilities without any contemporary nearby in whom to confide and with whom to laugh at life's crazy antics. This is a new aloneness never felt in her initial formation. The simple joys of life seem few and far between during these periods of intensely felt alienation. She wonders: is all my past life for nothing? Have I lost the respect of my own family; those who first gave me life and hope? Have I missed out on community life? Or did it never exist and I pretended, that it did? Why has my ministry lost its zest? Have I begun to give up on it and, if so, will I ever find a second ministry and trust myself to its demands for a disciplined life of sacrifice? Do my superiors and fellow religious value me for myself or only for what I can do? Are we all just worker- Review for Religious, March-April 1989 bees in the religious hive? Where is the reality of my prayer life? God seems so distant, so uninterested in me, so unlike the intimate friend of my early religious life. Around me I seem to find so many happy fami-lies and fulfilled career women. Or am I just romanticizing their lives out of my own drabness? Then begin the guilt-fits. Mow did my life dissipate into merely con-stant duties, deadlines, hurried moments of leisure with friends, commu-nity tensions, and superficial moments with Christ? How could I have ¯ let it happen? Does all this mean that I never had a vocation to religious life or that religious life in my particular group is now ,antiquated and no longer viable in ou~ present culture? What is my future--if anything? Who but a recently divorced iaywoman could Fully appreciate these questions and feelings 0f the woman religious. The divorced man, hear-ing a man,religious venice similar questions and feelings, would surely resonate to these pains of the heart and mind. The Feel of Alienation from the Church Among the Divorced and the Alienated The suffering asked of divorced men and women and of alienated re-ligious is scandalous not only to them but to the people who love them dearly. The shock felt by the "divorced" is such that at times they do feel isolated from their family (blood or religious) and perhaps even from Christ's Church. Their great temptation is to cut loose from past ties; to be free from all the b~aggage of the past~ They ask themselves: "Why not just leave the family or the religious order and forget any service of the Church?" It seems so much easier simply to concentrate on a career and, if the occasion offers, to form a small manageable group of new friends. Later some of these "divorced" will leave the Church deliber-ately and others will slowly drift away complaining: "'I'm tiredof fight-ing Church bureaucracy and small-mindedness." There is no denying that, in the twentieth-century Church, the petty pride of place, the drift towards disorder, the trickery practiced in the name of the kingdom, the mechanical use of the sacraments, the eloquent extolling of poverty by comfortable clerics, andthe depreciation of women's ministry are all very much alive. In fact, Christ found them quite active in his first century Church: the women's announcement that they had met the risen Christ was called "women's gossip"; John and James used their mother to agitate for their occupying the seats of power next to Christ; Paul had to confront Peter about using different standards for Jewish and gentile converts; Jerusalem converts tried to saddle all gen-tile converts with the hea~y apparatus of Judaic Law; Ananias and Sa- Mid-Life Divorce and Alienation / 209 phira embezzled the common holdings of the Christian community; some of the apostles, notably Judas, deplored Mary Magdalen's ministry to Christ as frivolous. This is the kingdom, God's people, as Christ de-scribed them in the parables where the net is thrown into the sea to haul in both good and bad fish or where the wheat field is sown with weeds by the enemy. The problem is not that scandal is always in the Church but that faith-fulness is needed to live through the scandalous events amid feelings of alienation. Men and women religious suffering alienation from their com-munities need to share their lives with divorced laymen and laywomen if they are all to remain faithful to the Church and to their families, lay and religious. The pooling of experience, the companioning in common sorrows, the cooperative attempt to let the Church know their agony, the working together to build better futures for each other and for the Church, enable the divorced lay people to take heart and the alienated religious to remain loyal. One woman religious who has been offering a program for divorced women in her motherhouse found that the prayers of the retired sisters gave solace to the divorced women, while the faith of the divorced women amid severe mental suffering proved encouraging to elderly sis-ters, some of whoin felt~ intensely their seeming uselessness to the world and to their Church. One of the divorced women approached this woman religious directing the program and said to her: "Were you divorced be-fore you entered religious life? You seem to read us so well." Aloud the sister said: "No, I've never b~een married," but whispered inside her-self "But I have experienced divorce--from my congregation." Recently women and men religious groups have been welcoming some divorced into their communities and finding that these women and men bring in a dimension of life much needed by the religious order. The divorced woman or man has gone through devastating bereavement from all that once gave meaning t,o her or his life. Through this stripping, they have rediscovered their own personal worth, having learned how to dis-tinguish life-roles (mother or father, wife or husband, secretary or car-penter, daughter or son, sister or brother) from their own selves which play out these roles. The divorced woman, for example, no longer de-fines herself merely by what she can do, but by what she can be--first in herself and then for others. This, of course, affects her relationship with Christ. She is devoted to him, first of all, for his own sake; and she expects his affection to be directed towards her for herself and not sim-ply for her accomplishments. Neither God nor herself is made out to be 210 / Review for Religious~ March-April 1989 an heroic workaholic. Such a mature attitude can be benevolently conta-gious. On the other hand, women and men religious have something to of-fer divorced laywomen and laymen. After all many religious have had to deal with the mid-life transition.2 They have come to see that the "yes-terdays outnumber the tomorrows" and that they have to trim their ap-ostolic sails accordingly. Their eqergy is less, their talents are not quite as rich as they first thought, they must drop some projects totally, oth-ers partially, in order to do the central works. At this point envy of the younger, the more energetic, and the more talented can creep in. Amid these tensions, one becomes more aware of personal shortcomings, pre-tenses, sins of revenge .and cattiness, and suddenly vehement sex-drives. This discouraging aspect of life is often allied with a sense of being enmeshed in a great bureaucratic machine (at the job or in the congrega-tion o~in work with the local government) with which one must battle for personal values without destroying oneself or the organization. At this same t~me friendships take on greater importance and one must re-order one's commitments to people, work, and God. Here the man and woman religious~face bereavement from parents and older friends who die. They have moved away from pet projects, from. former work that gave much satisfaction, and from favorite attitudes or ideas that no longer fit the times.' Death, including their own,.seems at times to totally sur-round them. But at the same time, if the man and woman religious can ride all these waves with some gratitude and graciousness, the slower pace al-lows them to have time for more care of others. A warm Wisdom, the fruit of keeping a sense of humor amid much suffering, can pervade their every day. A new stability may take shape at the center of their being. In their lasting friendships, they may rediscover their faithful God. And all this they can offer to divorced laymen and laywomen out of the very alienations which they had felt towards their own congregations. How bountiful the divorced lay people and alienated religious can be towards each other and thus towards the people of God--even though at times they feel so utterly empty and find themselves walking laboriously as though in desert sands. This desert experience has been chronicled and deserves our attention since out of it can come a conversion which will reveal a new self, a new God, and a new world. The Desert Experience of Transition Before Conversion Two women have given us brutally honest yet sensitive accounts of Mid-Life Divorce and Alienation their transitions from one congregation to another. The great change seemed to them like a lay person's divorce and remarriage with its awk-wardness, periods of loneliness, and rediscovery of self and life.3 Sr. Marie Conn found the loneliness of transfer to a new religious commu-nityunique in its roots and in its intensity. For she left behind a vibrantly rich past with only a vague future in mind. Besides, those with whom she would live her present and future had little idea of her past and she, of their past. When one starts all over with new and slowly developing friendships, with fresh routines, and with no one able to enter into one's more precious memories, one is thrust into a new relati

Issue 45.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1986. ; Vocation Ministry A Sociological View of Commitment Religious and Secular Institutes Imagination Within the Act of Faith Volume 46 Number 2 March/April, 1986 REvIEw FOR REI,IGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at'Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REVIEW EOt~ REI.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, M O © 1986 by REVIEW FOR RELtGIOOS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $ I 1.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1986 Volume 46 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of p~int~ issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major po~on of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY I0010. The Vowed Life in a Secularized World Desmond O'Donnell, O M.I. Father O'Donnell's earlier "Focused Freedom: To Someone in Formation"appeared in the issue of January/February, 1985. He is a General Councillor for his community and, though often on the road, may be addressed at its Generalate: Oblati di Maria; C.P. 9061; 00100 Roma Aurelia, Italy. ouring out a plethora of easy answers to complex questions does not bring us any closer to permanent solutions. Neither is it helpful to offer a new one-word solution for everything taking place in the Church at this time. And yet secularization might be a useful umbrella-word ~,to explain much, of what is taking place both, to the Church and to the vowed life today. If it is in fact found to be a satisfactory seminal term, it will also help us to focus rather than to diffuse our response. It can aid the process of discernment. Situating the Question The good news about our way of life is that a deep spiritual renewal is being experienced by many and that the importance of prayer is being rediscovered. There has been a notable updating in theology and real--if not always successful--attempts to build authentic faith-communities. There also is a growing freedom and practice of discernment about our apostolates and about our private lives as well. There is other news which does not' seem so obviously good, such as the large numbers who left us, the small numbers joining and the increasing median age. In some places, community life is moving towards becoming politely-shared space, enclosing many unspoken polarizations about deep realities among us. Authority has tended to go from heavy-handedness to 161 "i69/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 ¯ laissez-faire and so consensus about anything of serious communal signifi-cance is often hard to come by. Governments gradually move in to take over our institutions, either because we have chosen to let them or because they have helped themselves. The degree to which all this is related to secularization is disputable, but related it is, and I will try to show why this is so. Before we go into this, may I look at some more personal experiences of vowed people in most countries today--experiences which I think are related to secularization even more deeply than those mentioned above. Many of us have been through more or less severe vocational question-ing of some kind in recent years, because the rationale of our way Of life did not seem capable of answering the questions popping up all around us. Maybe it was triggered off by simply seeing one of our now-married novitiate companions do equally good apostolic work and do it well. It may also have been that we grew tired of mobility, or just vaguely short of motivation for the continual questioning of our chosen lifestyle. Many of us have found some new difficulties in prayer, as God seemed to withdraw and leaqe the world to evil pebple. Or maybe the emergence of so many small friendship-groups has left us out in the cold called "com-munity life." The variety of new prayer-forms and so many seminars, have a way of increasing our desire for some stability and wondering if it might not be found elsewhere, In response to'all of this, many felt the growing ambiguities and endless updating led them to personal selectivity in belief and practice. Others moved to the edge~of the storm by choosing some form of fundamentalism or an atheism' which expressed itself in mere social horizontalism while still remaining in the ~3ongregation. Some of us chose to becom~ left-wing unloving critics of the present and others moved to become right-wing uncritical lovers of the past, as the middle ground grew unpopular and became such a solitary exprience. These deeper and more personal phenomena~ are related to modernization and secularization too, as I will try to demonstrate. And so the response to these experiences, might first be to understand the meaning of modernization and the resultihg secularization-experience. Modernization The amount of knowledge in the world continues to increase because of constant research and it is rapidly diffused through very efficient communicatioh systems. Modernization is what happens when the knowledge is~ transferred into technology, which then has ~increasing and unforeseeable effects on economic growth, on social systems and on political decisidns. Inevitably the individual too is affected in his or her The Vowed Life in a Secularized World / 165 values, attitudes, beliefs and behavior. Most of us remember the discovery of plastic 'in the 40s, of the transistor in the 50s, of computers in the 60s, of microcomputers in .the 70s and now we observe technology move forward into genetic engineering in the 80s. All of these have affected people and systems in serious and often irreversibl~e ways. This march of modernization shows no signs of slowing down and often appears to have its own~self-propelled, autonomous momentum. It took one hundred twelve years for photography to go from discovery to commercial product, fifty-six for the telephone, thirty-five for the radio, fifteen for radar, twelve for television and only five for transistors to find their way from the laboratory into the market. Again, as each of these products comes on the market, it touches--and in the case of genetic engineering, tampers with human nature and human systems in often lastingly significant ways, It is with the human effects of modernity that we are concerned and these are sometime.s good, sometimes evil, and often ambiguous. Moder-nity can lead to human community and comfort,-.or to pollution and poverty for millions; it can facilitate or disrupt human values; it can enrich °a poor country or steal its unrenewable sources of energy; it can help in the diffusion of truth or of lies through the media and it can pass on productive information or child,pornography. In each of our .lives it can .make the superfluous become the convenient, ~the convenient become the necessary and the necessary become the indispensable, thus changing human nature itself. ~ Peter Berger's definition summarizes, all this: "Modernization is the transformation of the world, brought about by the technological innova-tions of the last few centuries having economic, social and political dimen-sions all immense in scope." With many otherwriters he goes on to outline the many very,personal effects resulting from the economic, social, political ones in his definition, Secularization is a very significant one of these. Secularization It is important to stress that we are not talking here about secularism which is a theory, an ideology denying the existence of God or at least his action and relevance in the world. Nor is secularization .to be equated with atheism when in fact it might be the very opposite experience for many who are desperately trying to hold on toGod who seems to be withdrawing from them. And certainly it would be simplistic to think that secularization is the same as materialism, Secularization is claimed to.be more a fact than a theory, a reality more than an ideology, a process taking place more than.a point of view. While it "i64/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 can lead to secularism, materialism, or atheism, it is in fact none of these. Some religious people find words like secularism, materialism and atheism convenient labels for what is happening in the Church or in_the vowed life today and it may be a description in some cases, but it is not addressing the deeper and more pervasive reality we call secularization. Secularization manifests itself when explanations of reality previously attributed to mythical or religious sources, are shown to have .rational ones, as when the~scientist takes over from the witch doctor, the. psychologist assumes some previously priestly functions or when a technological discovo ery,disintegrates a theological theory. A group of Animists in Java lost their gods a few years ago when a new seismographic station began to foretell and explain volcanic eruptions more accurately than the local holy man, The Diak people of Borneo lost their fear of and their belief in their forest gods when bulldozers razed the jungle. For some people, the study of a good theology of providence could have a similar effect. These people are experiencing secularization. In a similar way, many modern Christians first felt uncomfortable and then felt their faith questioned by a good church-history book, an accurate TV documentary, a skilled psychiatrist, two men on the moon, an old law proven pointless, a church authority found unworthy, a symbol disappear-ing or a culture collapsing~-all more or less the result of modernization. The resulting discomfort and questioning within the individual person, is close to the secularization-experience. It is an experience of no longer having one overall reference-point--a feeling of increasing disintegration. If you are experiencing that somehow God is withdrawing because religious explanations are increasingly less necessary, that the quantum of the secular is increasing at the expense of the sacred, that maybe~ God is now less necessary as a postulate for human living or that because of modern evidence your longheld experience of God is no longer a comfort-able one, you are probably undergoing the pressure of the secularization-experience. This is not a decisionnor even a desire to become an atheist; even if it could lead to it. Nor is it necessarily the result of "giving in" to materialism or to less-than-moral behavior, admitting, of course, that both of these can easily increase its momentum. If you are not undergoing the experience of secularization, then it is still important to uiaderstand it, because most of the peopl~ you are trying to evangelize, especially in the developed world, are probably experiencing it. It is from this fact that the present great missiological question arises--how announce the Good News of Jesus Christ to a secularized world? Moderni-zation and its result in secularization are now recognized as cultures, new cultures, ever-changing cultures and it is at this point that we recognize the The Vowed l_Jfe in a Secularized World / 165 break between faith and culture today. Thus for the modern person, secularization is a feelin~ of dissonance in .trying to hold together what is happening in the world and what the Bible seems to say about God's providence or what is often said in churches and what is taking place in real life around us. It results in discomfort with one's present experience of God. Any naive belief in the immediacy of God will be challenged .by secularization and modernity. Old fashioned god-words and some ecclesiastical jargon will appear increasingly irrelevant to sincere secularized persons everywhere. Secularization can be defined as the grad-ual disappearance of mythical and religious legitimations or explanations of society. Living with the ambiguities of the secularization-experience leads to a temptation to take refuge in fundamentalism which can be described as believing more and more in less and less in order to feel secure, or in agnosticism which is a lazy neither-nor ~land excusing one from the strug-gles, doubts and decisions which are part of any faith. Let us now try to analyze the challenge and opportunity which secularization offers the vowed life. The Vowed Life For the vowed life, secularization can be a deep call and a deep grace. Lumen Gentium calls us to enrich, challenge, encourage and stimulate the Church by our lives and our action (Par. 44). This is all the more reason why we must study, understand and give a gospel response to seculariza-tion, to a secularized world. Because secularization implies change at so many levels of human existence, we should recall that sociologists stress the vital importance of internal consistency for all groups in time of change. This internal consis-tency- our basic authenticity measured against what we claim to be--is now a matter of survival. Institutions which lack internal consistency are likdy to disappear in tim~s of rapid change, especially if their external image is also unclear. For these reasons, we who profess the vowed life must address the phenomenon and the grace of secularization. May I suggest that there are five areas where God might well be speaking to us in all this? ~ansmitting a New Integrating Presence of God Secularization, as we saw, forces us to find a new presence of God, a presence which permeates, integrates, energizes for action and which brings human and divine values into secular realities. Karl Rahner spoke of the vowed woman as having a profession which has no justification from the "166 / Review for :Religious, March-April, 1986 secular point of view even if she performs many useful secular tasks. What then might her iprofession and that of vowed men be? It is surely--as it always was--to give or rather to share with people their own experience of God. This is a demanding task; it demands that we each have such an experience first of all. We will have to pass on "so.mething which we have seen with our own eyes, that we have watched and touched with our own .hands" (1 Jn l:l'b) and it will be vital that "in Christ we speak as men of sincerity, as envoys of God and in God's presence" (2 Co 2:17), It seems to be a call to discover and lead in a new integrating mysticism as this quote from John Macquarie expresses: ¯ It is interesting to note that Bonhoeffer, though he advocated a 'worldly' Christia°nity, made it 'perfectly explicit that the kind of w0rldline~ss that he had in mind has nothing to do with the immersion in"material pursuits and enjoyments that we commonly associate with the "worldly' man. Bon-hoeffer makes a :statement that ought to be'pondered by those who invoke his support for a thoroughly secularized Christianity. He says: 'In Christ we are offered the possibility of partaking in the reality'of God and in the reality of the world, but not in the one without the other The reality of God discloses itself only by setting me entirely in the reality of the world, and when I encounter the reality of the world, it is always already sus-tained: accepted and reconciled in the reality of God.' There is a dialectic here that takes us beyond any naive world affirmation, just as it rules out any false religiosity. God,is met in the world, but the world is known in its reality only as Grd's world? Back in 1970, Karl Rahner wrote: Maybe we [he was addressing his own Society] ourselves have been super-f! cialized by the consumer society. Maybe we ourselves have not come to any original experience of God. Maybe we have not taken .the .trouble to let others participate in the mystical technique leading.to such an expe-rience. If all that is the case, we have of course, no alternative but to take refuge in a secular horizontalism which tries to interpret and live our own lives on the same level . The coming thing is the spiritual dimension, the experience of God, the taste of eternity no matte~ how valid our social involvement (with ~regard to which we have a terrible'lot to make up). The coming thing is sober peace, in face of all the absurdity of existence, the absurdity which no social involvement will spirit away. That rather bour-geois- chequered spirituality which was found--to outward appearances at least--in the orders before the first world war and which influenced reli-gious life too much~ may belong to the past and the young may say rightly that it is useless.from the start. But a new spirituality in religious life and in the Church will be assured of a real future. Whatever form this new spirituality will have, it must surely~be a very 7he Vowed life in a Secularized Worm personal "faith in the Son of God who loved me and who sacrificed himself for my sake" (Ga 2:20) and a very integrating one, enabling us to "bring everything together~ under Christ" (Ep 1:10). This--it seemsto me--is the most serious challenge which secularization puts to vowed communities today. Integration Through Reflection As we saw, one of the deepest effects of secularization is disintegration. There is no longer any one overarching human legitimation for the think-ing person today. We, even as vowed people, stand and struggle side by side with the modem person in loneliness, doubts, fears' and feelings of disinte-gration. We too are among the "new poor." The third world is closer to us than we think; it is inside our shirts especially if we have already chosen the still greater poverty of fundamentalism with iis moral, dogmatic and spirit-ual naivet6 and ~elitism. We are, however, expected to .stand with our fellow Christians in seren-ity and in a "peace which the world cannot give" (Jfi 14:27). We stand with them in a spirit of confidence too, as Jesus did with his disciples, when for him and for them everything seemed lost; "I have told you all this so that you may find peace in me. In the world you will have trouble, but be brave; I have overcome the world" (Jn 16:23). Only a life of prayer can discover and sustain this peace, this joy in the midst of a secularizing experience. Jesus led a busy life and had constant calls on his service, but we find the source of his power in the actual physical withdrawal, to be with God: "His reputation continued to grow and large crowds would gather to hear him and to have their sickness cured but ~he would always go away to some place to be alone and pray" (Lk 15:16). The form of prayer for today would seem to be what Macquarie calls "prayer as thinking";5 it is a prayer.which reflects on what God is doing in the world more than on what he,has done in scriptural times, without of course neglecting this latter. It is a praye~: which keeps our spiritual faculties alive. All reality, especially fast-changing or disintegrated reality~ is opaque and this is especially true in the m6dern world when ambiguity is part of life everywhere. We need to sharpen our spiritual eyesight to see what Bonhoffer described as the "holy depths" of.things and events. It is not so much a prayer "giving us time to refuel, but a prayer'which gives us increased awareness for better and deeper involvement and which motivates us for the human task of offering the world salvation from '~'everything that oppresses the.human person especially sin and the .evil one" (EN n. 9). Lest we ourselves succumb to the burnout of compulsive activity or the dropout of ceaseless seminars this life of "prayer as thinking" 1611/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 seems essential. . A long time ago, Christopher Dawson observed: "Men today are divided between those who have kept their spiritual roots and lost their contact with the existing order of society, and those who have preserved their social contacts and lost their spiritual roots." Could this be a descrip-tion of vowed persons today? Relativization of All Reality ~ I read somewhere that the Talmud says we will be held accountable to God for all the legitimate pleasures we have not enjoyed. When all this is said and dqne, there still remains the fact that so many of life's legitimate-- or even essential--pleasures are denied millions today, in even our devel-oped world. There also stands the fact that "we have not here a lasting city" (Heb 1:3:14) ahd that we possess only the certaintY of Christian hope: "We have a sure hope and the promise of an inheritance that can never be spoilt or soiled and never fade away because it is being kept for you in the heavens" (1 P 3:4). One part of our mission is to keep.Christian hope clearly before people and thus relativize reality, both good and evil. Secularization or not, the human person has a tendency to appropriate goods, material and spiritual, to hold them closely and even to be possessed by them. Our lives if they are lived in the simplicity and detachment which we .profess, will relativize the enjoyment or deprivation of material things and remind others that t.hey are to be shared: "Warn those who are rich in this world's goods, that they are not to look down on other people and not to set their hopes on money which is untrustworthy but on God, who out of his riches, gives us all that we need for our happiness. Tell them that they are to do good and be rich in good works, to be generous and willing to share"(l Tm 6:17,18). We can do this "telling" by our lifestyle, before we do it in words, the opportunity for which may never come our way. We also speak to the poor enabling them to relativize their desire for justice and to recall that while they struggle for their rights, there isan opportunity for growth in their poverty too. "Listen, my dear brothers, it was those who are poor accord, ing to the world that God chose to be rich in faith and to be heirs to the kingdom which he promised to those who love him" (Jm 2:5). Modernization has created so many who are enduring forced celibacy through broken marriages or infidelity and who are still avalanched by the media's sexual imperative. We can support these people even without speaking, because our lives experience the same yearnings and our minds are exposed to the same urgings and yet we struggle successfully on, with-out the assurance of genital involvement. But all this depends on our Vowed ~'fe in a Secularized World / 169 manifesting balanced and happy personalities, as people who have inte-grated their relationships and their sexuality in a healthy way. For secular-ized persons--many of whom suffer from confused psychosexuality--we can be supportive signs of survival and of fulfilled happiness through our lived celibacy. Individualism is a mark of the secularized person, coming very often as it does from hurt, insecurity and alienation. This can be so in our own communities too. The insecure person lives ambivalently between a desire to be accepted through cooperation and a fear of being dominated by submission. This is part of the disintegrating experience of modern life. If alienation is the pathology of our age, individualism is one of its clearest manifestations. By our vow of obedience lived out and seen not as "doing what one is told" but as discernment of what is best leadership in and through a caring community, we have much to say to the modern person about finding his or her own best expression of self in a confused world. It is even humanly true that "none of us is as wise as all of us." The secularized person, tempted to extreme individualism needs to rediscover this; for the good of ¯ families, local groups and for national and international survival, o Process.and Pilgrimage , It is clear that we vowed people will not be on the edge of the human experience of secularization and its consequential feeling of disintegration much longer. We share with men and women everywhere their search for stability and for lost certainties as the river of secularization tries to move all of us up, down and forward. To an extent, we found ourselves insulated from the human condition until recently, but no longer. Even if it were. not through necessity, we know that if we are to hold conversation with and to evangelize the world, we must pitch our tents within it; as God did. We must be prepared to pilgrimage our way once again and enter into the human process which we'should never have deserted. The fact that we accept this, will help so many others who find it difficult and who drop out into drugs or other forms of anomie and despair. Again, our vows lived authentically prepare us for the pilgrimage, ready us to keep moving, because we have publicly professed not to hold on, not to settle and not to be held. By our lived poverty, we refuse to be possessed by any material consideration and by our vows of chastity we also refuse to be possessed by ahy relationship. Obedience enables us to keep listening and looking at the map of moving events with eyes of faith and lbve. To quote Karl Rahner again from the same article: "The concrete future of Christianity, the Church and religious life remains largely hidden 17{I / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 from us . what historical and social form the Church and ecclesial Christianity will take in the future, remains largely hidden from us., we have to fight for victory without.a prognosis of victory" (p. 136). He was not° referring tothe effects of secularization at that time, but what he wrote is truer than ever now, and it puts us side by side and hopefully hand in hand with the modern man or woman as they endure the sec-ularization- experience. Interdependence and Involvement Our communities are not islands of isolated peace in a troubled uni-verse. No, they are sources from which we. emerge to makea more human and so a more godly world. Our vows enable us to do this; having freed us from, they also free usforLin a liberating way. ~',~ Our vow of poverty truly lived, makes us free for involvement. Because we have nothing to lose, we can carry the struggle for justice .further and when our lives are skilled in dispossession, we are not open to criticism from the rich~whose lives we question for the sake of the poor. Our good news for the poor has to be in some way perceived as bad news for the rich and they will readily point to any beam or bank account in our own lives if these are obvious. Only 'by relinquishing the power of possessions .can we demonstrate our competence to communicate freedom. Our vow of chastity makes us free to keep moving and to freely ask even our close friends: "Do you want to go away too?" (Jn 6:67). Again, we can take risks which married people with concern for their,families and for each other cannot be asked to take. Obedience, as we saw, offers us a freedom to live out a ,radar-like listening to God's word in the world around us. Truth comes only with listening :and discernment and these take. place best among a group of sharing people~ Obedience is .a public statement, that we bind ourselves to listen within and are missioned by a community through its leaders. This offers a model~for others to do the same in the Church. The quality of relationships and of concern for anyone at a distance suffers greatly in this time of disintegrative secularization, as each one looks to his or her own very personal success or survival. Nations do the same. This di-ama is, played out on a smaller scale every day in the average city too. Surely our communities have something important to say to people in this bleak situation. In our public interaction with one another° and for those who visit our communities,.the prayer ot~Jesus for his whole Church must tend towards .fulfillment: "_May they all be one, Father, may they be one in us, as you are in me and I am in you, so that the world may believe it was you who sent me" (.In 17:21). The Vowed Life in a Secularized Worm / 1.71 In' conclusion, I submit that we are approaching the ideal today, as we find the vowed life standing less at a point of comfortable distance from the world and more at a point of painful dialectic with it. At this point it must be ready to say a confirming yes or a challenging no--and do this by its life and activity--to all the results of secularization. To quote .the Anglican writer, Macquarie again: Here it must be said with regret that the trouble with some of our less responsible contemporary Christian secularizers is that they have taken up the ideal of holy worldliness, but seem to have promptly forgotten the adjective and reduced the ideal to a worldly concern tout court. They tell us that Christianity is a purely secular movement, their ideal of the good life seems scarcely distinguishable from the one that is so assiduously propagated by Madison Avenue, and the more extreme among them, in their horror at any supposed 'withdrawal' from the world, come near to advocating that the time has arrived to replace "poverty, chastity, and obedience with affluence, promiscuity, and autonomy as the highest goals for human life, or even as (he new evangelical counsels! The s!ogan for all this'is that w'e sho.uld 'say yes' to the world. But I do not think thata simple world affirmatioa will either help us to find God in the world or help the world to know his presence.6 - ~ Indeed, if we are to follow the words of Lumen Gentium, Chapter VI, par 44, the vowed life must say yes and no even to the Church itself. NOTES ~Facing Up to Moflernity, New York: Basic Books, 1977, 2John Macquarie, New Directions in Theology Today, Vol. III, p. 67, Philadelphia: 1981. 3"The Future of Religious Life" in Supplement to Doctrine and Life, Dublin: Domini-can l%_blications, May, 1972. 4The Greek' word anakephalasiosastai~is used in secular literature to express the con-ceptof many different ideas being subsumed under one theme. 5John Macquarie, Paths in Spirituality, Chapter 3, SCM Press, 1980, 6Op tit 2, p. 66. Vocation Ministry: Continuing the Invitation of Jesus Thomas E. Clark, ES.C. Brother Clark, Associate Vocation Director for the Chicago Province of the Christian Brothers, sees his work to be very much a ministry. This article is based on a presenta-tion he gave to the faculties of his congregation's schools in the Chicago area. He may be addressed at his .office: 200 De La Salle Drive; Romeoville, lllinois 60441. y ~vork 'as a full'time vocation minister for my community has often given me the opportunity to speak with young people, both individually and in groups, about the experience of being called by the Lord. My message to them is nearly identical to that of hundreds of other vocation ministers: each of us is called by God, each of us has a vocation, and it is up to each of us to discover what that vocation is. Onthe surface, the message seems clear, theologically sound, and understandable. However, what I have become aware of recently is th~at, in the two years I have been deliver-ing the message that each of us is called, the feeling with which I have been delivering that message has sometimes left something to be desired. Rather than offering a challenge to the young people with whbm I speak--a ch~allenge to discover a meaningful and significant way of living the Gospel ¯ in today's world--I've often felt that I am offering instead an apology for the choices I have made. It is as though the challenge of the Gospel might be just a little too naive for today's world, and to invite anyone to take it seriously may seem foolish and unrealistic. And even more foolish might be the invitation of young people to consider religious life and Church ministry as real options for themselves, ways of living out the Gospel challenge. I would certainly be out of touch with reality, I sometimes feel,-if I were to think that these people sitting in front of me--healthy, normal, 172 Vocation Ministry American young adults might consider religious life and Church ministry as serious-options for themselves. Thus when I speak with them, my invitation is sometimes clouded over with justifications ("I'm here today simply to make you aware of some choices I've made"), or sprinkled with "escape clauses" ("Any career you choose can be ministry"). The'underlying message, of course, is "I don't really expect you to consider any of these things for yourself." (In citing the above examples, of justification and "escape clauses," I do not mean to imply that there is no place in vocation ministry for "awareness education" or for a broad understanding of minis-try and community. On the contrary, these two approaches are essential to vocation ministry. They do not, however, constitute the whole of vocation ministry, and are sometimes used to avoid its more challenging aspect: that of invitation.) In speaking with a number of religious who are involved in vocation ministry, I have discovered that they, too, have much the same experience at times. Put simply, there are times when I do not believe there are any people who would be open to considering religious life as an option for themselves. Such an attitude is easily communicated to others, though it may not be directly stated,'and has the effect of turning away anyone who may consider religious life as a personal option. Further, a religious who holds such an attitude could never extend a confident and joyful invitation to an individual to consider religious life. It is my belief that such an attitude will keep religious not just from extending invitations to people to consider religious life, but on a deeper and more fundamental level, will keep us from fulfilling the responsibility we have to call people to build the kingdom of God. It is this invitation to the kingdom which is at the heart of vocation ministry, and which I wish to explore in more detail. In doing so, I shall consider several related topics: the model of invitation which Jesus gives us in the Gospels; vocation ministry as a means of living out that model; the philosophy of vocation ministry which has emerged in recent years; and finally, the challenge which we religious have been given in regard to vocation ministry. Jesus: Model of Invitation A simple perusal of the Gospels will show that Jesus had no hesitation about inviting peopl~ to follow him. His invitations are clear and concise. There is no misunderstanding what he means; the challenge is laid out on the table and nothing is hidden: Come after me and I will make you fishers of men (Mr 5:19). Follow me (Mr 9:9). Come and see (Jn 1:39). 1"/4/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 While such invitations may have been disarming or even~ unne ,rying to his listeners, it is difficult to imagine their being misunderstood. Jesus .has asked someone'to be his follower; it is as simple as that. ~ Neither does Jesus fail to make known to his followers his expe~ctations of them. In fact, his~requirements are so clear that~ sometimes they sound almost harsh. Whoever wishes to be my follower must deny his very self, thke Up his° '~ cross each day, and follow in my steps. Whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will save it (Lk 9:23-24). ~.Let the dead bury their dead; come away and proclaim the kingdom of God (Lk 9:60). The requirements of following Jesus are great. He knows this, and does not hide this frown those whom he invites. At the same time, the invitation is issued with a certain excitement stemming from urgency of the call as well as its promise: Tliis is the tim~ of fulfillment. The reign of God is at hand! Refo~-m ~our lives and believe in the Gospel! (Mk 1":5). Go a~d sell what you have and give to the poor; you will then have treasure in heaven. After that, come and follow me (Mk 10:21). This last invitation of Jesus was issued in response to the question of the rich young man, "What must I do to share in everlasting life?" (Mk 10".17). An.d it is here that we find out why Jesus issues the invitation t[iat he does: He knows everlasting life, and wants to share that with us. Again and again, Jesus promises us the kingdom and all that goes with it: fullness of life (Jn 10:10); complete joy (Jn 17:13); knowledge of th~ true God (Jn 17:3); the freedom of the truth (Jn 8:32); his own peace (Jn 14:27); the hundredfold and ~verlasting life (Mk 10:30). Jesus knows the k.ingdom and the gifts of the kingdom, and wants that experience for those to whom he has been sent. Herein we find the motivation behind his in~vitation, his c~all to take up the cross, [o sell all our possessions, to follow him. It is becaus~ he knows it will lead to the kingdom and everlasting lye,, arid he wants nothing less for us. It is love which has produced the clear, concise and even harsh invitation we find in the Gospel. With what kind of response .did Jesus' invitation meet? The Gospels sl~ow us pictures of every kind of response imaginable: Peter and Andrew "abandoned their nets and became his followers," as did James and John (Mt 4:20-22); Matthew left his post as tax collec~tor (Mt 9:9). The rich young man went away sad because of his many possessions (Mk 10:22). In a particularl~ poignant episode ~ecorded in John's gospel, Jesus' teaching leads many of his disciples to protest and ultimately to break away from his company. On seeing this, Jesus asks the Twelve if they, too, will leave him. Vocation Ministry / 175 Peter responds, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words :of eternal life" (Jn 6:60 ff.). Thus, the responses to Jesus' invitations are many and varied, for Jesus always allowed the individual to respond freely. What is evident, however, is that Jesus never stopped inviting, no matter what kind of response he met with. For Jesus, the important thing is that everyone be invited to follow him and to proclaim the kingdom. Negative responses, while disheartening, must not keep one from continuing to:issue the call, for all people deserve the opportunity to respond to the call. It is a matter of no :smalLsignificance, I believe, that the final words of Jesus in John's gospel are: "Follow me" (Jn 21:22). Continuing the Invitation: Vocation Ministry What does this never-ending invitation mean for us religio.us? What does it tell us, not only about our own response to Jesus' call, but about the mess-age we takb to the ~vorld? We have noted that Jesus' invitation flows from his expe~rience. He knows the Father, and the life that the Father gives~ Be.cause he knows, he Can ~nvite clearly, concisely and with authority. As men and women who have made life choices for the kingdom, and who have shared, at least in part, in the life of the kingdom, we too can invite others to embrace th~ kingdom. As men and women who have clearly chosen community and. ministry in the Church, we can invite others to conside~ community and ministry in the Chhrch as optionsfor.themselves. As men and women who have experieficed joy and. peace and life in these choices, as well as hardship and even pain, we can invite with the same confidence of Jesus, for we, too, know the burden and the gifts of the kingdom. In fact, Oot only can we continue to issue the invitation of Jesus, but in a certain sense, we have a responsibility to issue that invitation. !n a world where nuclear holocaust seems imminent, where starvation is the daily experience of millions, where poverty, unemployment and illiteracy a.re the lifestyle of whole ~egments of the world population.---in such a world, we who have been given the knowledge of the kingdom have a responsibility to call others to build that kingdom. In a world where people, especially young people, are searching for meaning and significance in their lives, where many live in confusion caused by crises of every kind, where whole societies are caught in the race for economic and political superiority--in such a world, we who have been promised the everlasting life of the kingdom have a responsibility to share that gift with this world. It is not that we .are holier o.r wiser than the rest of the world. Rather, we have been given the gift ~of a vision of how things can be. It is not our vision; it is God's vision that we have been given. And because we have 176/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 been given the vision, we must also bear theresponsibility--sometimes the burdgnsome responsibility--of calling others to God's vision. As religious, we have publicly proclaimed with joy and faith our desire to be a part of the kingdom, and that desire has been accepted joyfully by God. Now we must set ourselves to the task of inviting others, with our lives, to the ultimate meaning and significance which God's vision, the vision of the Kingdom, holds for the world. In the course of this lived invitation, we, like Jesus, must invite others clearly, concisely and directly to join us in bringing about God's vision for the world. We have the responsibility to say to people: "Sell all you have, give to the poor, and come away to proclaim the kingdom of God!" We must invite those with whom we work and pray and live to "Come and see" what we have seen. Like Jesus, our invitation will have authority if its motivation is love and its roots are found in our lived experien.ce. Thus, if we have found the meaning and significance of the kingdom in our religious commitment, in our community life, and in our ministry, then we must invlte others to that same experience. If religious life has been the context of God's kingdom for us, then we must invite others to consider that same context for themselves. We cannot deny others the opportunity that is ours, the gift we have been given in religious life. I believe that not to make others aware of this gift, not to speak of God's vision for us, and most importantly, not to invite others to consider this gift for themselves would constitute such a denial. I believe that vocation ministry if you will, the ministry of invitation and discovery--can be a powerful means of carrying on the invitation of Jesus. A Philosophy of ¥ootion Ministry Vocation ministry has emerged in recent years as a valid and accepted ministry in the ~Church. This emergence is due in large part to a new u~nderstanding of vocation ministry, an understanding which has its foun-dation in the model of 'invitation which Jesus provides in the Gospel. Unfortunateiy, this approach to vocation ministry is not' understood by many religious, and consequently keeps them from supporting the voca-tion efforts of their communities, and even more importantly, from involv-ing themselves in these efforts. As we have seen, vocation ministry, when considered as a ministry of invitation, is modeled by Jesus. But such an understanding of vocation ministry is relatively new. There was ~ time in the not too distant past (and which still e~xists today in some circles) when vocation ministry was consi-dered to be "recruitment," and the person who did this work was known as the "recruiter." This designation was appropriate at the time, for the person Vocation Ministry / 177 who served as a recruiter for a religious community attempted to find and enlist people, especially young peol~le, who seemed suitable for her or his particular community. The religious recruiter was searching for people to carry onthe work--the good work---of her or. his congregation. The job of the religious recruiter was similar to that of recruiters for the military, for schools or for corporations: namely, to ensure the continuance of the group's interests. The beneficiary of this process was the group and in 'the case of the religious recruiter, the beneficiary was her or his community and the people the community served. The term "recruitment" and the philosophy ~vhich it designates does not fit what Jesus does in the Gospels when he invites people to follow him. I believe that as the work of "recruitment" becomes more and more pat-terned after the model of invitation which Jesus provides, we need to call it by another name. It is at this point that we can begin to speak of "vocation ministry." The difference in language is reflective of the difference in philos-ophy and practice. It is, in fact, the difference between "recruitment and ministry," and it is shown in a new role for the person who does this work. This role is no longer one of serving primarily the needs of the congrega-tion, but is one of serving the needs of the people with whom the vocation minister works directly, the people whom she or he assists in discovering how and where and with whom the Lord calls them to build the kingdom. The priorities of the vocation minister have changed, from a focus on ensuring that the life of her or his congregation continues by enlisting people into the order, to a focus on ensuring that people discover who it is that God calls them to be. The agenda from which the vocation minister works has changed, from being primarily the order's agenda, to being primarily God's agenda. To some, such differentiation rhay seem too subtle to be of any impor-tance; .it may even seem like hairsplitting or word games. I believe, how-ever, that it is not too subtle, nor is =it hairsplitting, nor is it word games. For when looked at from the perspective of the person attempting to discern God's call, and especially the young person faced with fife-choices to make, there is a world of difference between the recruiter who wants that person to be a sister or brother or priest, and the minister who wants to help that person discover where God calls him or her to build the kingdom, where life will hold the most meaning for him or her, with no preconceived notion of where that might be. I contend further that, when considered from God's perspective, there is an ~ven more profound difference between "recruitment" and "ministry." It is the difference between the recruiter who believes that the continuance of her or his congregation is in the recruiter's hands, and that it is up to the recruiter to supply the needs of the order; and 1711 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 the minister.who trusts that God callg people to build his kingdom as sisters,, brothers, priests, married people and single people, and belieVes that her or his role is to act as Jesus did in inviting people to listen for God's .call and to act on it. Such a stand places the responsibility for supplying the needs of the order in God's hands, and~ recognizes the responsibility of the vocation minister and° the members of the congrega-tion to act as instruments-of his call by issuing the invitation to the kingdom. ~ Vocation ministry, and not recruitment, is the responsibility of every religious. It is a responsibility which stems not from fear for the future of religious life, but rather from the fact that each of us has been given a great and wonderful gift in religious life, a gift which must be shared with others. Our invitation to religious life is given in the context of the kingdom: because we have known the kingdom in our life and ministry with one another, we'invite others to that same experience. It is not recruitment for a particular order that vocation ministry is about; it is an invitation to nothing less than the kingdom of God that we,. as religious, must be about. The Challenge to Re!igious When vocation ministry is seen not as recruitment but as a ministry whose foundation is the model of invitation, which Jesus himself offers, an entirely new challenge is given to .religious. It is a challenge which brings about a n.ew set of questions: --Have I ~experien~ed the kingdom of"God? Where and with. whom was that experience~of the kingdom ? --Is the experience of living in religious community and doing Church ministry an experience of the kingdom for me? --Do I sense both the responsibility and the desire to share the king-dom with others by inviting them to build the kingdom? -~Am I willing to invite others to consider religious community and Church ministry as a way of building the kingdom, a way which has been life-giving and Satisfying for me? I believe that we religious can continue to invite others to join us i~n community and m~nistry. Some Of those whom we invite will join us; others will find another flay of building the. kingdom; still others~will go away sad. But vhatever the response, we can continue to invite, secure in the knowl-keidngged otmha~t,, tion wouhric rhe lwigei oinuvs i~teo mthmosiet mwehnotm, w we eh maveee tb. eOenu rg iinvveinta"ati osnh ai'sr.em iont it-he vated not by fear of the fu(ure, but rather by a sincere desire to share the gift we have been given, With joy ~and confidence we can coniinue to spe~k the invitation of Jesus: "Come away and proclaim the kingdom of God!" Gentle Exile: Reflections on Formation Mary Ellen Dougherty~ S.S.N.D. After a long stint in formation work for her community, Sister Dougherty has returned to the teaching of English. Sh.e may be addressed at The College of Notre Dame of Maryland; 4701 N. Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21210. Shortly.before I finished a long term in formation work, I told myself that eventually I would write an article that might be of use to others in that ministry. I waited. I needed distance. After a year or so, subjectivity settled into uncertainty. I did not know what I wanted to say. Now, more than four years later, I think 1 do. ~ Initially, I would have commented on the characteristics of candidates currently interested in religious life, the inevitable challenges in dealing with them, and the necessity of both structure and latitude in a formation program. I would have talked about the generosity of young people in ministry, their ambivalence about vows. Now, however, I would like to focus on formation, personnel. 1 address my remarks especially to those who are in the work, and to those who .are considering it as ministry. In more than.eight ye~ars in this ministry, I worked, directly, in various team arrangements, with eight different directors. As director of novices, I participated, with the novices, in intercommunity programs in which directors shared on a regular basis. I speak, then, out of my own experience, and out of some ongoing reflections with at least two dozen directors, men and women. And I speak, still, tentatively. These are my insights now. In many ways I was nbt an effective director. In some ways I was. I have learned from both. I do not think there is a standard profile for a successful director~ There are countless variations on virtues that could be 179 1110/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 considered. Certainly a consistent attitude and practice of prayer, along with a keen mind and a clean heart, are essential. Inner freedom issuing from a clear depth of uncluttered spirituality is central. It is not my intention, however, to explore these here. That, perhaps, is another article. I would like, instead, to address three fundamental areas which, in practice, prove t.o be crucial: experience, affectivity, and integrity. Experience Age, I think, is only a factor for the director insofar as it permits experience. What one has done is not necessarily what one has experienced. To receive experiences of poverty, failure, darkness, in the light of grace, balanced with experiences of fulfillment and productivity, requires time; one must have lived long enough and well enough to know the inevitability of the rhythm, to expect the seasons to change. In that sense, age is important. It is not just what one has experienced, but what one has not experienced that should be consid~reff. One who has been given the time to live as well as the time to die, and has learned to receive both with equanimity, has lived long enough. And one who has not, should not be expected to deal with her own discoveries easily in the context of formation work. Events may always surprise us; the curr~nt of life should not. Affectivity I am not professionally equipped in terms of academic background t6 talk about the psychology of affectivity, or stages of affective development. My observations are purely practical: when the affective or relational life of a director is undeveloped or undernourished, there are generall~ relational problems with those she is directing; these are Often lodged in some variation of dependency, usually mutual. The director, from my observa-tions, usually takes the relationship more seriously, in the long run, than the candidate; the director seems to have some expectations of permanence, whereas the candidate, especially if she is young, is more than likely to tr~insfer her emotions rather quickly. There often is, however, some degree of mutual destruction. It is essential, 'then, that formation directors have the capacity for, and the activity of, peer relationships, that over the years they demonstrate an ability to interact in friendship with inutuality and absence of unwarranted dependency. The demands of formation work are constant and draining, especially if the director is living ~vith her directees. Candidates, especially younger ones, often exhibit a love-hate response toward authority. Unless the director has a belief in her own lovableness, created by a deep personal sense of God, and the experience of significant peer relationships over the years, she can be quickly undone. So can those Gentle Exile / 1111 she directs. Oia the other hand, a director who has a variety of relationships, and who is secure in at least a few of them, is not likely to need her directees. She may, over the months or the years, develop some friendships among them, but these will be a matter of choice, not of necessity. Integrity, Given a person who has lived long enough and loved hard enough, we come to the point of integrity, which I use in a limited sense here. I speak only of that dimension of integrity which enables one to experience some independent clarity about the truth, and to be faithful to it in spite of opposition. It is not my intention to suggest moral judgments. Like many people in positions of authority, formation directors must be able, if necessary, to stand alone. They must be capable of making and living out graced decisions which may create great conflict. And they must be as capable of independent thinking as, they are of consultation. A director who is not comfortable thinking for herself, who relies too heavily on approval and too little, on her own graced instincts, is usually transparent to her directees; wittingly or unwittingly, they may use her. While the need for dialogue, for collaboration, for consensus cannot be overstated, neither can the need for slow, clear, independent decisions that begin in the deepest level of self, where, in the face of opposition, integrity, a matter of grace, becomes a manifestation of courage. When all is said and done, it is fidelity (or infidelity) to the graced self with whom one must live. There is nothing new under the sun. The ability to receive experience and to let it become wisdom; the calbacity to love and to be loved without ownership; the self-possession and the faith to risk a gentle (or not so gentle) exile--these are characteristic of any authority who claims Jesus as her source. If formation work is anything, it is daily. If anyone needs Jesus as her source, a formation director does. Working with the Young Adult with Temporary Vows Vito Aresto, EM. S._ Brother Aresto is Vice Provincial and .Director of Formation for,the Poughkeepsie (NY) Province of the Marist Brothers. Heohas been ,working with brothers under temporary profession for more than six years. He may be addressed at his Vice-Pro-vincial Office: 4200 W. l i5th Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Much has been written over the last several years about_the conditions and problems of the yoeng adult within formation programs of, religious life. Since many of the young people who come seeking this new lifestyle come after years 9f college or work experience, formation directors are finding that the traditionally tried and true methods, of formation~seem to contain significant gaps when dealing with this new kind of person. The problem becomes even more complicated when the young person is in t~emporary vows. In this paper I would like to delve into some of the significant areas that have emerged in my working with our temporary professed. For the most part they are young men who have achieved rather comfortable recogni-tion professionally. They have taken their first vows in their middle twen-ties and look forward to years of growth and service within religious life. Final profession comes somewhere around age thirty. Developmental psychology has examined this period of growth young adulthood with great earnestness. Clearly, it is being recggnized that as life develops it confronts, struggles, and tackles successive issues in life's fabric and resolves them only to move forward to confront still newer issues towards growth. Such progress is noted as maturation, growing in one's potential, developing into a full human person. ~Vorking with the Young Adult . When the issues of spirituality are overlayed upon this rich process, we begin to see something of the concept of conversion. Obviously, when one begins to probe conversion, there is a point where even the best of the social sciences"pales before the mystery of faith: But nonetheless, we can learn much about growth and developmenL particularly in the struggles of a young adult who is attempting to find his or her place within a religious .family. This unfolding of life's grandeur and mystery is not at all easy. It can never be pain free if it is authentic. For the formation personnel working with young religious a good grasp of this process is obviously needed. Crisis needs to be viewed as part of the human drama, and neither .overstated nor underplayed. Rather the formation director can be a calming influence for~ individuals as they probe the' issues and unravel a course of action. In this light it is also very important to note that the director ~should be very comfortable with assisting the young adult to tap into such helping services as therapy or spiritual direction. It is important to realize that the varying issues which emerge are not all vocational conflicts. Rather some very necessary growing-pain situations may be interpreted as "vocational,' which in actual fact are merely struggles with growth issues. At other times personal,life issues may be confused as stress issues needing therapy, but are deeply vocational. Finally, there may be.a blend of both. It is the task of the formatioh director .as calming influence to help the young person wade through the issues, and recognize where they lie. In naming the dil~.~a, the course.to resolution becomes less threatening. For most young religious the transition from novitiate life to active ministry carries with it some straining adjustments. There is a great differ, ence between accepting the need to integrate the essential elements of reli-gious life and actually attempting to do so. This strain to interpret and realize the ideal can either bring about growth in young persons, or have them develop a selective sense which, ma~y in the long run distort growth. Each person must face honestly that the balance of the essential elements of the religious life structure cannot be merely put aside for some personal notion of the greater good. In the long run true growth for the young religious only takes place in confronting each aspect of vowed life as important, and then developing a proper rhythm for themselves. Fidelity to their vowed commitment must be presented as their primary work, By doing this they will be realistic in discerning this lifestyle within their congregation and how it truly fits into their own needs ~ind response to the Lord and his people. This approach, one that asks young persons not to compromise any aspect of their vowed commitment, even when faced with the tremendous 11t4 / Review for Religi~ous, March.April, 1986 pressures of the varying adjustments of prayer, community and apostolate, is utterly honest in recognizing and treating religious as adults. The fact remains that as they unravel their dreams and expectationsi they must also be totally immersed in what actually is the life they now share in their new religious family. This task can become even more burdensome as the young religious begin to recognize and feel the depth of confusion, and even sinfulness within their chosen religious family. Yet, within this sobering reality one fundamental task for.the temporary professed religious is to come to real-ize whether their dreams can be honestly integrated within this particular congregation. If this cannot be done then an honest and courageous act would be to depart. The Lord is not asking anyone to surrender his or her dreams, nor is he asking the impossible in great and massive adjustments to what a person holds sacred to the purpose and direction in life. It becomes the task of the formation director to help and accompany the young religious in this discerning process. But the director should never water down or compromise in the name of charity what he or she knows are realities incompatible to the values and goals of the congregation. Furthermore, the director must a.lways make the distinction between fidel-ity to a lifestyle and fidelity to the Lord. The young must come to realize that commitment to Jesus as their Lord can be lived in all the genuine forms and calls to holiness within the Church. Hopefully, the novitiate process has solidly grounded these young persons in their commitment to Jesus. Temporary vows must focus on the parameters of this particular religious family and charism as one valid and true means towards holiness for this young religious. Therefore, a truly respectful and, honest relationship must exist between the formation direc-tor and the young religious so that.real growth and integrity can develop. It is of paramount importance then, that the young,~religious' dreams must be found to be possible in the congregation they have chosen to enter. This is not only vitally important for the growth and development of the young religious, it is also vital for the growth and development of the congregation. The life given to this young religious by God is also a gift of life for all the members of the congregation. When such interaction is in process a certain sense of peace and purpose prevail. When it is. not present one readily begins to sense and hear bitterness, sarcasm, and resentment., Understanding the vital need of a dream in a young religious' life must therefore be one of the important areas into which a director must examine and explore. The novitiate will set up ideals that are solidly grounded in spiritual and scriptural foundations, but these ideals will not be realized except in the attempt at the actual riving out of community within, a local Working with the Young Adult / 1115 setting. It must be realized that each local community is itself struggling to unravel the full meaning and purpose of its shared life direction. Although young religious may leave the novitiate in full recognition that life is a process of growth and integration, it will only be in the experience of community that they will begin to understand the journey with their broth-ers or sisters that they have begun. Therefore, understanding the dreams and also knowing deeply the real struggles of this religious family is a task that each formation director must grasp when dealing with temporary professed. Ultimately, the focus must be turned completely on the Lord. He must remain the very purpose and intention of the young religious. Service will only .spring from the well of deep commitment to the Lord who loved all people even, unto death. More times than not, the young religious' grasp of the importance of intimacy is also wrapped up in their understanding of their dream. They do not enter religious life accepting the fact that there will be little or no intimate relationships in their lives. Obviously, religious life does afford the opportunities for a rich relational life; but that can only come through the struggle of integrating the vows in the light of each one's intimate relational needs. For young religious who must deal with this issue through the maze of the various transitional periods of growth, the very issue of intimacy can become pivotal to successful integration, and thus to peace within this chosen lifestyle. The movement towards dealing with one's~relational life also has impli-cations for community and ministerial life. In community this can expand one's depth of compassion, and in ministry it can help focus one's work beyond the notion of career to an expression of the Lord's service con-tinued through his Church. Each step of this awareness will heighten the young religious' recognition that he or she has truly been called by Another. Gradually imprinted upon the life and work of each young reli-gious is the paschal ,mystery, each one's transformation into Christ. The weathering of growth issues can therefore be the seed for a deepening of vocational understanding that is not only personal but intimate with the Lord. As young religious move closer to their thirtieth year there is to be noted a very subtle but careful evaluation taking place. Some significant issues have emerged and been confronted. The young religious also begin to recognize.that all the aspects of their dreams and aspirations may not be completely realized. They begin to feel, and not merely know, the implica-tions of being chaste and obedient. The cultural values of their society, with its push towards success, ambition, and recognition weigh on their poverty. Ultimately, as final commitment approaches, so does the trauma of the 186 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 "second calling." It is at this moment that the formation director must gently accompany~the young religious. The time for mentofing has ended. It becomes important that unconditional acceptance pervade the whole relationship, If the journey through those years of temporary vows has been honest and rich in successful and mature handling of life issues, then the response to this second calling--a permanent commitment to the Lord within this congregation--will~ be made with the totality possible to this young adult. Fundamentally, as one accompanies young adults~through their initial years of religious commitment, one quickly realizes that formation is.lrela-tional growth. The young religious come eager to respond to the Lord~. Their response has been wrapped and colored within their dreams of Ltheir future life and ministry. Novitiate naturally assists in a solid grounding and underpinning, but it°is not until there is full immersion in the daily routine of life in common and in ministry that they begin to confront and grow within their religious commitment. For the formation director the journey of this pilgrimage is one of trust and love. Ultimately, the individual must come to a sense of'personal peace. This peace is only born in the honest relational growth between each individual and the Lord, between the individual and his or her brothers or sisters, and the individual and the people they are sent to work with and serve. This peace should become the full flowering of a love that rests solidly on the motivation and direction of a life-decision made to the Lord and his people, within this special band of disciples that he or she chose for a religious family. '~ Reflectively, we can turn to Jesus as the model for the formation director who works' with young adults. Particularly is this so if we. focus upon his dealings with Peter. Here we note the care and compassion that must be evidenced by the director. For three years Jesus guided, taught and challenged Peter. These lessons werenot ~beyond the scope of correction and prodding, but they were also done in sincere and tender cbncern. And yet when the supreme :momefit for Jesus arrived, his hour of glory, Peter was still unaware of the magnitude of Jesus' mission. Much like the novice who enters first profession, Peter needed to continue to grow and ~be challenged, even in the darkness of near despair. It was not until the depth of his relationship with the Lord was securely grounded that Peter was ready to shepherd. Only then did he fully comprehend the-initial call that was repeated in the marvelous second calling at the end of John's gospel, "Do you love me? . Come, follow me!" Strangely enough in that rich relational bond between Peter and the Lord did his fondest dreams become rei~l. He no longer needed~io hold Working with the Young Adult / 187 tightly to privilege or rank. Now he no longer saw himself as solely the "rock," but rather could he challenge all that he shepherded to be "living stones," part of the "edifice" of the Lord and his Church. He understood clearly all that was needed to continue the process of growth, a journey into wholeness and holiness. For the young religious the journey is similar. The director must guide and accompany them so that the echo of the initial call of the Lord can be profoundly realized and incorporated into the very identity and dreams of these young persons. Permanent commitment becomes a full expression of a relationship that is central to their meaning and purpose. Christ the Center of Our Vowed Life by" ~Boniface Ramsey, O.P. Father Ramsey's three articles on .,the vows of religion are available as a single reprint: i - The Center of Religious Poverty ii - Christocentric Celibacy iii - Cru~ciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review ~or Religious Rm 428 ~3601 Lindell Blvd. St: Louis, Missouri 63108 Commitment in a Religious Order: A Sociological View Joseph C. Doyle Dr. Doyle teaches at Seton Hall University (South Orange Ave; South Orange, Neff Jersey 07079), where he may be addressed. There is a special quality about people who are committed to something, whether it be to another person, a group, an organization, a career, or an idea. That quality can be captured by such words as "loyalty," "allegiance," or "steadfastness." For to be committed is to be involved in a relationship which has priority in one's life over alternative relationships or only one-self. This does not mean that a person's other involvements are ignored bu.t only that when push comes to shove this relationship has singular importance. Obviously, this is a key feature of religious life, for the purpose of religious orders is to foster growth in each member's commitment to Christ. In fact, it has often been assumed, both by people within and without such institutions, that this is the sole ~ocus of the members' ~om-mitments-- that they "have the faith." In the past fifteen years or so, how-ever, the large scale exodus of members from the various forms of religious life has raised serious questions in many quarters concerning this one dimensional view of religious commitment. In particular, such authors as ~Marie Augusta Neal,~ Helen Ebaugh,2 Lucinda San Giovanni,3 Richard Schoenhern and Andrew Greeley,4 and Patricia Wittberg5 have all attemp-ted to shed a social scientific light on some of these questions. This paper is meant to be a reflection on some themes developed out of this tradition. It will attempt to present the results of some findings gleaned 188 Commitment in a Religious Order / 1119 from interviews with twenty women involved in a religious order in the eastern United States. Its major interest will be the way commitment in religious life passes through different forms, forms which seem to be affected by the kinds oof structures established by religious orders and by the way their members respond to these structures. It is, of course, danger-ous to generalize from a group 6f this size. Thus, the following remarks should be read as an'effort to explore some pertinent issues in the quality of commitment rhther than to offer a definitive statement on these issues. I. Sociology and Commitment Because this paper relies upon insights developed in sociology, perhaps it would be helpful to first briefly explain some key sociological ideas concerning commitment before delving into the material from the in/er-views. Over the past thirty years or so, sociology has developed a number of concepts for dealing with the experience of commitment. By and large, these ideas are rooted in the perspective that c6mrnitment is the result of certain ,mechanisms operating in groups or organizations that mold indi-viduals into loyal members. Thus; the primary attention is on how these social factors operate to produce a committed person. One of the more prominent efforts in this field can be found in the work of Rosabeth Kanter, particularly in her book Commitment and Community.6 While the analysis that follows utilizes these insights, it also attempts to show how individual members of a religious order responded to these forces and tried to grow beyond them. Kanter views commitment in terms of three interrelated dimensions: instrumental, affe.ctive.and moral. In addition, each of these dimensions is the result of a set of factors bY which a community leads its novices into full membership. By instrumental commitment Kanter means a felt attachment to a social role that is more rewarding or less costly than the roles outside of the community. In this kind of commitment the person wants to live up to the behavioral expectations that others in the community have of him or her. This attachm~ent is achieved, according to Kanter, by having the novice undergo experiences ,whereby the individual has to invest her time and energy in doing the work of the community and to sacrifice her own possessions on behalf of the community. In this way the person finds himself or herself wanting to remain because of all that has been expended ¯ in the effort to achieve full membership. As Kanter puts it: When profits and costs are considered, participants find the cost of leaving the system would be greater than the cost of remaining; "profit," in a net psychic sense, compels continual part;_cipation.7 190/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 By affective commitment Kanter means an attachment to a set of relationships whose ties are more gratifying than the ties with .alternative relationships. To find a particular,~set of relatio, nships more gratifying than others means recognizing that set as the,primary source of. affection and support in one's life. This dimension is realized by having novice members renounc6 all previous ties of affection as being primary for them and by involving them in communal activities with members of th~eir group. In these ways the new participant comes to develop emotional ties with these others and a cohesive bond develops amongst them. Finally, by moral or normative commitment'Kanter means an alle-giance to the values and norms of the community and a willingness to obey the authority structure of the community as the ultimate interpreter of those norms and .values. However, this allegiance doesonot necessarily develop after a careful evaluation of these norms and structures. Instead, Kanter sees this dimension arising from a set of beliefs and values that have been internalized in an often irrational or unc_ritical way. In Some respects, commitment to norms and values resembles the concept of superego, which binds the evaluative components bf the self t6 norms of a system through an internalized authority.8 The moral commitment of members is achieved, Kanter notes, by techniques that encourage novices to'deny significance to their own ideas and desires and to place their trust more in the community than 'in them-selves. Thus, new members come to see the way of life of the coinmunity as more meaningful than that of competing alternatives. This sociological view of commitment may, at first sight, be rather upsetting to people who form a community in order "to ddepen their rela-~ tionship with God. '-I Would suggest that this reaction is a rather well-founded one. For what sociology has uncovered, and what many of the" religious women 1 interviewed realized after being in their order for a few years, is that there can be a very real difference between commitment to God and commitment to a religious organization. For this latter institution attempts to offer its members a way to God, but lhis "way" is embodied in historically realized rules, procedures;practices and customs that can often become ends in themselves in the minds and hearts of these members. The sociological point, of course, is that a religiouscommunity hasto empha-size these aspects if it is going to survive and so it has to foster commitment to them. Naturally, a religious institution hopes that its" members will develop spiritually by such practices, and many have done so. Nevertheless, as the' following analysis will show, the danger can also be that the corn= mitment does not get beyond these dimensions. How that can'happen and what can be done about it are the concerns of the rest of this paper. Commitment in a Religious Order / "191 II. A Sociology of Commitment in Religious Life A. Internalizing a Theme ~ The model of commitment presented by Kanter can be a useful tool for interpreting the experiences of the twenty women I interviewed. While these women all came from the same order, they varied as far as age (32-63), length of time in the order (9 years to over 40 years), and the kind of positions they held at the time of the interview (teaching, pastoral and the central administration of the order). Nevertheless, they all described their early years in religious life in ways that can b~e captured by Kanter's categories. 1: Internalizing the Instrumental Dimension One of the interesting findings of these interviews was that many of the nuns felt that the years taken up by their training were preoccupied with the proper performance of their duties, with what they called "the externals." In Kanter's terminology they were committed to the role of a religious person. She claims that it is possible for a person just to behave in a committed way, i:e., remain in the group but not necessarily care about the ideals or values of that group.9 While she'herself did not think that this was a full commitment, she did seeit as a possibility. When the nrns were asked about significant changes in their lives, one of the events frequently brought up was when they recognized that they had been caught up in the mere activity of being a nun. For example: when I came to religious hfe I switched to the externals because that is what I thought I was supposed to do and that was what was always talked about., how you dressed, how you performed this and how you did your chores, but I wasn't co~mfortable with that. When we first entered, the activities were important as you grow into being a member of the community. I think at some point you get caught up in the reception of the habit., that is a big day in your life., and you try to act like the pdrfect nun and" that sort of thing. ~ In addition to acting out the role of a reli~gious woman, many of the respondents reported recognizing, a period in their lives when their minis-try, or more pr.ecisel3~, their work, was mrre important to them than any other dimension. Years ago, I guess I was work-oriented and it was the thing that people saw. And the thing I could let go of was my prayer life because no one ever saw that and I wasn't accountable for it. I cou.ld go to confession and say I didn't haeditate that week and that wruld t~ike care of the guilt part. But I never made ~ny cofinectionJwith the rest of iny life. 192 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 As these quotes indicate, the focus on minist.ry and on the proper fulfillment of the "externals" of the religious role were the dimensions to which most of these women became initially committed. ,And, for some of these sisters, the ministry remained central for them well beyond the period of their training. However, while this was a key feature of religious life for many of these women, they eventually began to question the validity of this preoccupa-tion, and for some this orientation is no longer dominant in their lives. 2. Internalizing the Affective Dimension Kanter's second type of commitment was also evident at an early stage of the nun's training. For some of these women, this. involvement in community life coincided with their involvement in ministry. What did you think you were committing yourself to at that~time? I thought I was committing myself to ministry and to community life but not to a deep personal prayer life. I was still struggling with thaIt t.r.i.e. d to take time for it but more often than not, that got pushed aside. What was there about ministry and community life that made you want to commit yourself?. I just" saw goo~d in it. I saw myself functioning very well in it, being comfortable in it, not having any kind of desire not to be there. Some of the other nuns, however, found that a focus on community followed, in time, a commitment to ministry, and sometimes the tension between ministry and community would be resolved in favor of community¯ , ¯. I consider myselfa community-minded person; for whatever reason, ~ prefer working within the community., like coming to the infirmary and working right here with our sisters. I was more than happy todo that. I didn't find myself looking to go really outside of the community. (I. Why was that~ Well, I guess in that it's doing for my own sisters, primarily, rather than people on the outside¯ You are doing the same kind of thing but for whatever reason my preference would be my sisters first. Thus, while ministry may be seen as rewarding, by itself it does not suffice. For this woman and for others, it was and still is a matter of the emotional bond one has with the group with whom she rhinisters that is crucial. Where ministry can be judged in terms of rewards and costs, more non-rational considerations have to be used to judge the relationships one has with others. However, ~s was seen in the discussion of instrumental commitment, this affective dimension did not r6main as dominant for all the nuns. As the following quote suggests, this orientation is no longer as crucial as it once was. Commitment in a Religious Order / 1~ ¯ I really don't know how we remained faithful then. I'm sure if it was another type of community, I don't know, maybe it's because we're more of a family, you know, we feel for one another, um, and that was always our sister, and if you didn't hang in there because your superiors were no good, you'd hang in there because your friends were there. Your commitment to them kind of seemed important to you. 3. Internalizing the Normative Dimension Finally, the third of Kanter's types of commitment was also a focus of allegiance for most of the women during their training. This is particularly obvious in the way many of them had accepted the authority of their superiors during that period. ¯. 1 never felt pressured or stepped on or however people fed. I never felt that. I guess as I entered community it was something I wanted to do. or the Lord called me to do, so I did what I was supposed to do . However, while there were nuns who were very compliant, some found themselves questioning the purpose behind some of the orders. For them, willing obedience was built on an obedience motivated by a fear of being dismissed. Were there people in your class who questioned a lot? Yes, they are no longer here. In novitiate I was very docile. I was probably stupid. If they told me tO do it, I did it because if you didn't do it, they were going to send you home. ~. So you did it out of fear more than anything else. Yes. Yet I liked the days of formation and everything else, but if they said do it, I did it; and when we did it and thought it was crazy, we Used to laugh about it, but we still did it.°, there was no heart in it or anything like that, but we did it to shut them up and get them off our backs. Whether this emphasis on atithority and obedience was complied with willingly or out of fear, it had a dual effect in the training period: it seemed to focus attention on role conformity or the "externals," as was seen before, and it created a sense of dependency on the leadership of the community in many of these women. But in the minds of some Of the nuns, this would often translate into valuing obedience to the rules 'over the needs encountered in one's ministry. Let's say the mother of one of the children was pregnant and her husband had just kicked her in the stomach and kicked her downstairs, and she came to me after ~chool, as did happen once, and when I tried to share with her and show her a little sympathy, I got in trouble because I stayed over in school even though it was that type of thing. I didn't mind getting into trouble, but ! just couldn't understand that whole thing. And in those 1~ / Review for Religious, March-ApriL 1986 days, if she came again, I would probably say "I can't see you," thinking that obedience was the greater thing at that time~ While some of the evidence suggests that many of the nuns interpreted this dependency on authority as something they have left'behind, this is not so for all of them. Even with the much publicized changes in convent life, with the "loosening up of the structures," the importance of the normative dimension of commitment still comes through for many of them. As this following quote demonstrates, however, it is internalized dependency: The change that has been significant has been in the individual being responsible for he~'self. We still have in our community superiors in our local convents. However~ the emphasis has been on individuals being responsible for themselves, for the cbmmitment that they have made, for' living according to the rules and the constitution, for keeping the vows . B. l/ariations on a Theme . ~ Hopefully, the preceding exploration has shown that the women I interviewed responded to the demands made upon them in their formation years in the convent .in ways that the order wanted them to respond. In effect, they internalized the theme of religious life espoused by their order. This, of course, is not to pass judgment on the sincerity of intention of any of these women or on the integrity of those tesponsible~for their training. It is instead to recognize what most of these sisters have realized and what Kanter's model of commitment can help us to see: religious commitment is more than simply doing religious things. When attention is concentrated on the activity of being religious without an ~ffort at helpi~ng the novice to discern the place of these activities in an overall lifestyle, then the only result will be religious conformity and a commitment to the means established to realize a life in Christ rather than to that life itself. However, as many of the above quotes intimated, the story of the commitments of these women does not end in mere conformity. Most of the nuns found that by the time of their final vows or in the five years or so after final profession, t.hey had begun the process of perso~nalizing many of the practices they had learned. This effort at personalization took one of two forms: varying the order's style of religious life to meet o~ne's own personality and characteristics, or creating a style of religious life that was in keeping with the core values of that lii~ but no longer was solely modeled on their order's particular historical interpretation of those values. I would now like to explore the first of the~e responses which I will call "variant commitments." In the third pai't of this paper, I will examine the second form.- The term "variant commitment", refers to a more reflective response to 'Commitment in a Religious Order the demands of convent life than the conformist response did. The idea for it comes from another sociologist named Robert Merton.~0 Writing in a different context (but, nevertheless, in one that is still applicable to our purposes), Merton referred to people who were sensitive to the demands of their institutions but were willing to test some of the limits of those demands. He had in mind men of science like Pasteur or Einstein who were committed to the goals of science but who engaged in the kind of research that resulted in new ways of conceiving the world around us. In a similar way, many of the nuns I interviewed were very much committed t9 the goals of their order, but they were also involved in efforts to alter its style of religious living. Where their training had taught them to exhibit routine adaptations to the expectations of the order, they later became more willing to modify these demands while still remaining within the normative character of the community. By briefly looking at some examples of these variant responses in the light of Kanter's model, it will. be possible to show concretely the kind of changes that took place in these women, 1. Variations on the Instrumental Theme It will be recalled that in this dimension of commitment members involved themselves in the performance of those activities that hdped maintain the community as an ongoing entity. In religious life, one of the more important of these role expectations was a faithful participation in the liturgy. For sisters in training the ordinary round of prayer activities became part of the behavior of the "ideal" nun. By the time of final vows, these activities had become second nature to them. Following the Second Vatican Council, however, the order began to loosen its rather rigid structure, and local convents wer9 allowed to establish their own format for commu.nal prayers. This usually involved a group decision concerning the times to be set aside, as well as the particular style the prayer activities would take. In addition, there was also the expectation that individual sisters would develop their own schedul~ and forms for their personal prayer life. Thus, new regulations were made which allowed for more decentralized variation and individual freedom in fulfillment of the order's goal to develop prayerful sisters. The result of these reforms appears to be a more conscious involvement on the part of most of the nuns in this dimension of their lives: The .emphasis, I think, in the younger days was not on my personal religious or spiritual development, as much as it is now., the job is important but the prayer part of it is more important. Ifa decision was to be made that I would have to give up my prayer life to be an 1~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 administrator, I think I would give up the administrator part. I'm sure years ago I couldn't have said that. I'm going into my fifth year here, and I was very nervous coming here because I had heard about their prayer life~ But it's really been good. It's more spontaneous than at other places. Like we do the reading of the day, and then we share with each other what they are saying to us or one of us will give a homily. As these quotes indicate, within the overall values of communal and personal prayer, the nuns have sought to fashion attitudes and practices that reflect a more conscious appreciation for these features than was true in their earlier days. This consciousness in some cases was an attitudinal shift, such as the rededication of oneself to a life of prayer;'or in other instances, it was a greater willingness to participate in a variation of public prayer that had not been tried before. In'both examples though, a shift to a more reflective response is evident, and this allows for personal and local variations of a communal expectation. 2. Variations on the Affective Theme The second area of religious life to which most of the nuns can be said to have been reflectively responding is the communal dimension. On both a formal and an informal basis, it is expected that the members will participate in the affairs and functions of the community and that this group will be primary in each person's life. In the period before the Vatican Council, these expectations usually meant a high degree of uniformity among the order's members. In the years following the Council, they frequently have involved rather innovative attempts to develop a greater sense of camaraderie among local community members. This can be seen in the following instances which suggest a changing vision of the meaning of community and a willingness to put into actual practice what some have only been able to dream about. What is your vision of community? I would like it more personal, um, with small groups where there is sharing not only of your work but of your basic spirituality, your vision, and maybe with people that you could work it out with so that your vision could: become a reality. I think the great disillusionment with religious life is that your vision remains a vision and there's not too many to share that vision. We were pioneers. My first year in grad school and after that we lived in a convent and commuted to school. We used to pray together and just try to share our lives. We could do creative things like alternative prayer styles and a lot of sharing about community and about the Lord. Commitment in a Religious Order Of course, not all the women in the group were as originally so enthusiastic about this new style, as the above excerpts may suggest. Nevertheless, those who have tried it have overcome their initial restraint and now see it'as a more beneficial way of living than the older style. Once again, a relaxation of rather rigid structures has allowed for a greater amount of reflective expression and thus for the introduction of alternative approaches to a goal of the order. 3. l/'ariations on the Normative Theme The final dimension that exhibits the effects of a more reflective response to religious life concerns the commitment to the norms and values of the community. According to Kanter this commitment is demonstrated in the supportive attitudes members have toward those in authority and toward the ideology of the group. One of the areas in convent life where an important shift in this dimension has occurred is in the vow of obedience. In the days when the nuns I interviewed first entered and until quite recently, obedience to the "Will of God" meant, in fact, concrete submis-sion to what the s,uperiors interpreted what that "Will" was. Today, this submissiveness, while still expected on a daily practical level, is somewhat tempered by the recognition, in their order's rule, that all the sisters share a genuine responsibility for th6 goals of the community. This basically seems to mean that the individu~il sisters are left alone to freely do what is expected of them rather than have a local superior enforcing each of the rules. Naturally, such a situ~ttion leaves room for individual variation, both attitudinally ahd behaviorally. I guess my attitude is that this is not somebody or something imposing on me, or the constitution saying I have to do it, or I feel that my superior is going to say that you are not doing this or that. There are days, for exahaple, when I don't spend much time in prayer at all for one reason ~or another, because it's ministry, or I'm getting in at midnight and I can't function the next day. But ifI don't do it for a couple of days, I know it and I really.have to say, I have todo it tonight regardless of what else turns up, so that it becomes a priority. I think it puts more responsibility on the individuals for their own lives. Ten years ago the superior was saying no, you may not go. I think it places more responsibility on the individual not to maybe abuse missing prayers or Mass or house meetings or meals . . . there is a little more freedom and people are more relaxed . , . to be more responsible for themselves. As these quotes indicate, members are freer to interpret when a particu-lar rule should be obeyed and when it should not. Of course, this does not i911 ] Review for Religious, March.April, 1986 mean that they can or would do whatever they please with no sense of normative .obligation, Thus, the conscious choice on the part ~of~the member is to decide when there are legitimate exceptions to a given rule and toact on those exceptions. In the long run, however, the orientation of the nuns is to the normative expectations of the order. - ~ C. Creating a Theme Hopefully, the previous section has shown that the story of the com-mitments of the twenty women I interviewed took a new turn in the years after their final vows. Because of the changes in the formal structures of the order, these nuns were able to move from a rather conformist-oriented appioach to religio.us life to an approach that reflected more of each individual's perso~nality and needs. However, while this newer style was more personalistic than before, it still was within the definition of religious life as formulated by the order. Thus, it is still possible for members to be committed to the instrumental, affective, and moral dimensions of their community (albeit, in their contemporary forms) rather than to the com-munity's underlying purpose, i.e., to one's life in Christ. Of course, as I indicated earlier, this is not necessarily in all instances what has happened. Instead, it is to point out a continual danger in community life, a d[inger that some of the nuns themselves have recognized: structured behavior and attitudes, even when they are loosened up, can become a substitute for personal responsibility for the purpose of those structures. This danger and a potential way to avoid it can be captured more clearly by examining the second type of reflective response that the women I interviewed exhibited. Nine of the twenty nuns responded to the ques-tions I raised in a way that was somewhat different from the others. I have called this type of response "creative commitment." By this I mean a commitment to a notion of religious life that reflected the women's struggle with an appropriation of a set of ideals and interpretations that trans-cended the institutionalized approach in which they found themselves. This did not mean an outright rejection of their community. Rather, it was an attempt to combine themes learned from sources outside the order with the basic values learned from the community into a more personal style of sisterhood than the one in which they had been trained. Their involvement in the community, is now no longer predicated on the constraints the institution can bring to bear on them. Instead, since their commitment is to a vision~of what religious life can be, they have relativized the role that the community has in their lives. This rather abstract definition can be made more.concre[e by compar-ing some of the "variant responses" some of the nuns made to the questions Commitment in a Religious Order / 199 I asked with the "creative responses" nine of the women mad~ to the same questions. As before, these responses can be presented in terms of the model developed by Kanter. I. Relativizing Instrumental Commitment The first dimension of concern will be the attitudes of the nuns toward the role of a sister. In order to ascertain the overall quality of a member's role involvement in the order, I asked what perception each one had of herself as a sister. As the following quote exemplifies, many of the~s.e women have adopted the role of a nun as traditionally defined, ~that is, as one who is supposed to represent in a special way the presence of the sacred in human life. To be sure, they do not appear to be caught up with the prestige symbols of the role--the habit, the title, the little signs of respect. But they dowish to see themselves perceived as religious women, as part of a religio, us organization, and in this sense, the institutional role is important to them. How do you see yourself as a sister? That's hard to answer. I guess. I am living out what I think I am called to be, but I am not just living it for me. but for other people~ Do you mean what effect you have on people? ¯. Yes, like when people ask me to pray for them or for members of their families. I'm not just some fixture or some teacher. Do I convey the o message of Christ to people? Do I carry the name of (order's name) well, and what that community is about, or do I downgrade the community? In comparison with this perception, the following nun appears to dis-tinguish herself and her role as. a sister. While being a nun is important to her, it is not her whole self. This type of perception cropped up °quite often in discussions with these nine women. In effect, the role has been redefined from being a place in an overall organization to being a vehicle for allowing a more personal style of religious life to be expressed. What that,style is depends upon the individual and how she understands herself; but in general, it seems to encompass an effort to live out the central values of Christianity as these are being interpreted by contemporary thinkers. This woman's notion that "sisterhood" includes her relationships with whom-ever she meets is an indication of this redefining process. when I first came to the community, I saw a sister as functional, whereas now I see sister as a relationship that is not only to the people that I work with but it is. much more universal in a sense. It is me as I relate to whoever it may be . It's much more a sense of I am who I am and a good part of who I am happens to be a sister and what lproject is all of me, the totality of life. 200/ Review for Religious, March,April, 1986 2. Relativizing Affective Commitment The second area of discussion deals with the emotional ties members develop toward the relationships they have in the order and toward the order as a whole. The quality of these ties can be captured by the reaction of members to questions concerning the possibility of the order disbanding. While this is an admittedly hypothetical situation, the reactions of the sisters revealed their attitudes towards the community as a whole. For example, as the following citation suggests, many of the sisters see their well-being as tied up with the well-being of the order.~ Because they tend to seetheir lives as coextensive With the life of the community, these women can be said to~ have Committed themselves to the institution. What would happen if your community died? I would be very sad. As a person I think it would be devastating. I guess the charisma of the (order's name) community is important to me. I chose to belong to a group, and this group meant something to me. for whatever reason they became important. I chose to make final vows, and I chose to make it something permanent in my life. When this response is compared with the following one, however, a different understanding of this relationship is revealed. According to this woman, the institution exists to serve a need; and if it no longer can do this, then the nuns should disband and find other communities. This willingness to let go of what must be a home for this woman suggests a degree of autonomy that was also present in the other more innovative nuns. But this autonomy should not be interpreted as a cold independence from the order for-it seems to rest, for each of these women, on a distinction they have made between tbeir particular order and their understanding of religious life in general. In their interpretation of the order, it exists as a means to realize their religious ideals. Thus, religious life is always broader than the order's way of approaching it and for them it is their approach to that life that counts. I don't know exactly. I don't know if I would; then I would look and see if another group would like to get together to form something else, or if I would join another group. I don't think I would be upset. I wouldn't feel that my whole life has gone because I think what this community has done UP to this point has been very good and very worthwhile, and if it is not necessary, it's not necessary. I don't feel any urge to prolong somethin~g that is no longer necessary, so that would not bother me. Another indicator of the relativization of the order in the lives of these women is their willingness to look beyond it for sources of emotional support. While they.were in training, the community encouraged them to develop their personal relationships with their fellow members by severely Commitment in a Religious Order limiting outside contacts, even with members of their own families. Although these nine women still have deep personal ties within their order, they have also consciously developed friendships with others outside of that community, including laypeople. A couple of them have also become part ofqocal communities that are made up of nuns from bther orders instead of the more traditional, homogeneous units. Most of my really close friends have left the community., but it's not quite as dramatic as it sounds because I do have a couple of very good friends who have been very supporting, one who is married who has always supported me. Then. one who I'm even closer to who was in the community who has left. She continues to be one of the most supportive people in my life. It's fine with her that I am here; ~nd it's fine with me that she is there. How many friends do you have outside the community? I'd say that it's probably about fifty-fifty between people within the com-munity and people outside that I really consider myself close to. Four of us broke off from that larger grou.p because we are for'a simpler lifestyle, and we are now living in a house., the three of us from our order, one happens to. be the school person, and two of us who are in .other ministries and then the fourth sister who is from (another order) who is also in another ministry. That's working out pretty well now. 3.' Relativizing Normative Commitment ~ The third area deals with the willingness on the part of members to allow the community to control their lives. Over the past fifteen years or so, the order has loosened up its authority structure somewhat so that now the nuns are encouraged to speak their minds more so than they were in ~he past. Nevertheless, the ultimate expectations for many of the women is .that it is their duty to obey the wish of the superior. As this example demon-. strates, the notion that "the voice of the superior is the voice of God" dies hard. My attitude towards religious life, I don't think, has basically changed in the sense that I still fed that my superiors, those who are in charge, whatever they would ask I would accept it in the same wa~y I did years ago. I would question now, not saying that I wouldn't.do what they asked, but I would question it now. While the above quote demonstrates an attitude toward obedience that can be characterized as superior-oriented, the next citation reveals another approach to this subject. Instead of first looking to what the superior wants, this nun believes that one should first be obedient to oneself. The distinction is crucial for it places the sister on a par with her superior.and 902/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 enables her to exercise genuine responsibility for her own life. This is probably the most important characteristic of the innovative nuns because it seems to be that which distinguishes them most clearly from the others. Although these others often spoke about the necessity of being self-respon-sible, their 6rientation very frequently was to the community and their superiors. On the other hand~ the innovative nuns more frequently were willing to look beyond the institution for grappling with the issues of religious life and to examine any ideas in terms of where they might fit into their own lives, I believe in obedience to the Lord in tune with what is going on with my own inner' feelings, as contrasted to what I may believe in terms of the' voice 6f the superior although I don't deny that. I think you have to listen ¯. but I would say I would be more in tune with obedience to God; I would say that it's a little more,obedience to myself than I would say obedience to the vow or to the superior. Interestingly enough, one of the ways in which these women have sought to take responsibility for themselves is precisely in the area of the vows. One of the features that comes across very clearly is their desire to distinguish their understanding of the vows from the institutionalized ver-sion. This does not seem to mean an idiosyncratic interpretation of them that is divorced from what other approaches, even institutionalized ones, may offer. Instead, it seems to involve an effort to formulate a conception of the vows that takes into consideration what others,may say; but at the same time, ~it-attempts to create out of ,them an understanding that responds to the personal needs and goals of the individual herself. It should be pointed out that by the term "other interpretations" is meant sources of meaning outside the order, including the general culture, contemporary sourcbs' within the order, as well as the more traditional interpretations, whether they come from formal or informal sources. What seems to be crucial, .in any event, is the consciousness of these sisters of the difference between saying what others have understood what the vows mean and saying ,what they personally think they mean. I took these vows, but I thought. I'm doing my job, I'm praying, so don't b~ther me about the vows . !~ow looking back, I probably detached the vows from the life, or I said I have to take these vows in order to live this religious community life that I want to live. Now what's it like? ~ Now it's thinking about it and reflecting on it and saying there is some-thing more to this and I don't know what it is yet . I could tell you what ~ so and so says and what the books say, but personally., what do I think, Commitment in a R~ligious Order that's what I'm coming to. When you started to reexamine the vows, did you find yourself coming to a personal interpretation of them, or did you sifnply accept the given interpretation? Oh no! I made my own interpretation, and whether that's right or wrong, it's something l'm going to have to live with. No, I think it's my own personal thing . I have been attempting to distinguish creative responses to institutional demands from variant responses to these same demands. Hopefully, this has clarified the difference between the two. If 1 have been interpreting this material accurately, then a commitment can be said to be creative when the individual personally recognizes the primacy of her relationship with God in her life. That happens, it seems, as the individual assumes greater and greater responsibility for that relationship and the role of the order becomes more secondary as far as that relationship is concerned. In other words, the institution becomes a vehicle whereby a person can live out a way of life that she has created. As the following sistei~ asserted in ~ rather straightforward fashion, the order has become a means to an end hot arl end in itself. I say I commit myself to the Lord through this institution and I never expect that I will break that commitment to t~he Lord. I am not .always saying that 1 make a commitment to an institution: (I. Why no~t~ R. It's just the medium for me. Conclusions I ~began this paper by remarking that religious 9ommitment is often understood in a one dimensional way, as simply a commitment to Christ. Utilizing the insights of sociology, however, it is now possible.to see that religious commitment is a multi-dimensional affair which can often inter-fere with the fuller realization of a Christocentric lifestyle. For instead of a single focus on the proper spiritual characteristics of being a religious woman, this analysis found that members of an order can become more concerned about the instrumental, communal and normative dimensions of sisterhood. The result of this is a preoccupation with the means of religious life rather than its ends. Because this was a sociological analysis, it highlighted the fact that this preoccupation was, in part at least, the result of the order's necessary concern with its self-preservation. This does not mean, however, that such a preoccupation is inevitable. As the information concerning the more creative women has shown, it is also possible to relativize the impact of the " 2011 ] Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 social requirements of communal living and to begin to achieve the under-lying purpose of religious life. But to do this requires an effort on the part of the order to become sensitive to the effects its structures have on the spiritual journey of each of its members and an effort on the part of each member to be radically honest with himself or herself about the real con-cerns which occupy one's life in a religious setting. NOTES ~Marie Augusta Neal, "The Relation Between Religious Belief and Structural Change in Religiiaus Orders: Developing an Effective Measurement," Review of Religious Research 12, 1 (Fall, 1970), pp. 2-16. 2Helen Ebaugh, Out of the Cloister (University of Texas Press, Austin, 1977.). 3Lucinda San Giovanni, Ex-Nuns (Ables, Norwood, New Jersey, 1978). 4Rich~ard Schoenherno and Andrew Greeley, "Role Commitment Processes and the American Catholic Priesthood," American Sociological Review 39 (1974) pp. 417-426. ~Patricia Wittberg, "Transformations in Religious Commitment" REVIEW FOR RELI- ~31OtJS, Vol. 42 No. 2 (1985), pp. 161-170. 6Rosabeth Kanter, Commitment and Community (Harvard University Press, Cam-bridge, 1972). 7Ibid, p. 69: 8lbid, p. 69. 91bid, p. 67. ~ORobert Merton, ~Social Conformity, Deviation, and Opportunity Structures: A Comment on the Contributions of Dubin and Cloward," American Sociological Review 24 (1959), pp. 177-188. Two Forms of Consecrated Life: Religious and Secular Institutes David E O'Connor, S. T. Father O'Connor holds the chair of the Department of Church Law at Washington Theological Union and resides at Holy Trinity Mission Seminary (9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910). His previous article in these pages was "Lay Associate Programs: Some Canonical and Practical Considerations," which appeared in last year's March/April issue. Th~ 1983 Revised Code of Canon Law in, canons 573-730 designates both religious and secular institutes as Institutes of the Consecrated Life. This is a new classification in church law, In its simplicity, it is open to some misunderstanding as a juridical oversimplification because, in fact, both types of institutes are very different. This may just be another exam-ple of the limitations of all canonical categories which are not capable of fully expressing the charisms and gifts of the Spirit to the Church. While the members of both forms of~the consecrated life do profess the evangeli-cal counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience, their lifestyles manifest two rather divergent forms of ecclesial dedication. The intention of this brief article is to explore some of the similarities and real differences between these two types of consecrated lives and to promote a better appreciation of the distinctiveness,~ the identity and the place each one has in the Church. Let it be stated at the outset that neither form of ecclesial dedication is presented as better or superior tO the other. While canonical religious life has been a recognized and important part of Church life for centuries, it has taken a variety of shapes and forms. Secular institutes, canonically and historically, have received ecclesial recognition only within the last fifty years and are still in the process of trying to have their uniqueness under- 205 906 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 .stood and appreciated. The new Code of Canon Law is a welcome and innovative move in this direction. It is a positive step forward in giving secular institutes the canon-ical identity and ecclesial status which they deserve. In canon 710, the new code describes a secular institute as one in which the Christian faithful living in the world strive for perfection in charity and work for the sanctifi-cation of the world, especially from within. Canon 607, §2 describes a religious institute as one in which the members, according to proper law, pronounce public vows, either.perpetual or temporary, which are to be renewed when they have lapsed, and live in common as brothers or sisters. A quick perusal of these canonical descriptions makes apparent some of the. differences between these two types of institutes. The members of secular institutes are to "live in the world" and work for its sanctification "especially from within." On the other hand, religious are to live "in com-mon as brothers or sisters" and profess "public" vows. These and other distinctive features of both forms of ecclesial dedication need to be more closely examined and elaborated upon in order to manifest the special style of consecration lived by the members of the different institutes. In order to facilitate this examination, a comparison of these two types of consecrated life has been organized under the following five headings: Secularity, Community Life, Apostolic Activity, Evangelical Counsels and Canonical Status. There will be, necessarily, some repetition involved because it is impossible to treat the distinctiveness of each institute without there being some overlapping of ideas. For example, it is not possible to consider the evangelical counsels as lived in religious institutes without considering them in the context of common life. Nor is it possible, to con-sider adequately the evangelical counsels as lived by members of secular institutes without examining them in the context of the secularity which is essential to the life of the members. I ask the reader to be patient in this matter as efforts are made to emphasize the genuine distinctiveness and special characteristics of each form of the consecrated life. Se~.ulariff. The primarY and foremost characteristic of secular institutes is that they are secular. This has been repeatedly emphasized in all the ecclesiasti-cal documents which address the nature and role of these institutes, from Provida Mater Ecclesia (February 2, 1947) and the Motu Proprio, Primo Feliciter (March 12, 1947), through the documents of Vatican II (1962-1965), especially ,Perfectae Caritatis,, 11, to the 1983 Code of Canon Law. It is "secularity" which totally colors the way oof life of the members and is the most significant characteristic of their consecrated way of life. Two Forms of Consecrated Ltfe/ 207 The members remain lay people or secular priests. They are not reli-gious ~nor are they expected to live in any manner which approximates or imitates the religious life.~ In every, sense of the term, they are to cultivate their consecrated secularity as ordinary people; living "in-the world and, as it were, from the world. "~ They should be involved in the social milieu and professional life proper to each member in the concrete circumstances of that member's place, time and culture. Indeed, members are to have a secular outlook and acknowledge themselves as "part" of the world and committed to sanctifying it from within) Hehce, the style of life of the lay members of a secular.,institu~te is that~ of a consecrated person living a rather inconspicuous and ordinary life, holding down a job or involved in a profession, while living alone or wi[h family or friends. Externally they will not appear to be different from any other lay person in a similar situation. Indeed, Pope John Paul II has encouraged them to develop their professional life and to be, at the level of Knowledge and experience, really competent in their specific field of endeavor.4 Religious, on the other hand, are required and expected by/heir own consecrated way of life to have a certain "separation from the world prpper to the character and purpose of each institute.'~ Obviously, this is expressed very differently by monastic communities and by apostolic reli-gious. Members of apostolic religious institutes frequent~ly find themselves immers~ed in the world with similar demands made upon them to have the professional competence required in their particular formJ of apostolate or ministry. Yet, at the same time, they may be more likely to think of themselves, while at the service of people and the Church,.as "being in the world, but not of it." Indeed, they are often readily identifiable as "Church-people" even if they are not wearing a habit or clerical garb. Furthermore, they often live in houses or convents associated with their ir~titutional apostolate which helps identify them as Church-workers. Thus their com-munity lifestyle and their corporate apostolate or form of ministry, in one sense, sets them apart and "separates" them from" the ordinary lifestyle of lay people. There are incarnational and eschatological dimensions" to the life of every Christian. However, it appears that the Church considers thai the incarnational should be especially clear in the Christian life of the dedicated laity and that the eschatological or transcendental should be-particularly manifested through the dedicated life of members of religious institutes. One form of the consecrated life the secular institute emphasizes the goodness of the world and of all God's creation (Gn l:3,1); the Other the religious institute emphasizes the radical discipleship of Jesus which involves some separation from or renunciation of the world (Jn 15:19). 901t / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 Community Life Some form of life in common or community life has been a part of religious life from timeqmmemorial. It is a clear requirement of the new Code of Canon Law.6 Members of a religious community are to live in a house-of their own institute with their brothers or sisters and under the autl~ority of a religious superior.7 This is the place where they conduct their day-to-day life and offer their companionship and support to one another. It is the place where they gather about the eucharistic table and pray together. It is from there that apostolic religious reach out to others in a variety of ministries and dedicated ecclesial service. Therefore, some form of commu~nity life has been a perennial dimension of religious~ life and presented as an ecclesial witness of Christian love. The common life of religious does differ somewhat fro~a community to community, and is radically different for: monastic and apostolic religious. However, it is a necessary dimension of religious life and one of its special characteristics. Common life is not a part °of the consecrated life of members of secular institutes. While some institutes may have, as part of their particular tradi-tion, residences which belong to the institute, community life is not an expectation, requirement or characteristic of secular institutes in general. In fact, it has often been positively discouraged as contrary to a truly secular style of life and an unfortunate move toward the imitation of a life approp-riate to a religious institute. ~ The secular quality does not permit of community life on the part of mem-o ~rs, even as an option. It is too easy to slip from the notion of a "group" life to that of a "com.mon" life inconsistent with the personl liberty and the vari-ety of commitments which the ideal of presence in the world entails.8 The new 9od,e does not require the administrators or leaders of a secular institute to have their own residence, nor is it necessary to have a house where formation programs can be conducted.9 Members of secular i~stitutes are expected to live as ordinary lay people, either alone or with their families, or in a group as brothers and sisters.~0 Diocesan priests, who are members of a secular institute, likewise, are expected to live as the other priests in the diocese. That is, they are to live in the rectory to which they haye been assigned by their bishop. There is to be nothing unusual or exter-nally distinctive in their style of life in the world. However, as canon 716 of the code states, the members of a secular institute are urged to share actively in the institute according to their own proper law. They are to maintain a certain "communion" among them-selves arid carefully foster a unity of ~pirit and genuine relationships as brothers and sisters. The constitutions and statutes of each institute should specify how this is to be done, but should not imply that cohabitation or Two Forms of Consecrated Life / 209 any form of common life similar to that of religious is expected. It is the obligation of leaders and moderators in the institute to promo.te this spirit of unity and an active participation of the members)~ Apostolic Activity The new Code of Canon Law succinctly expresses the manner in which apostoli~ activity is to be exercised by the members o

Issue 41.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1982. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1982 by REviEw FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in, U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVtEW FOR RELIGtOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July/August, 1982 Volume 41 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIF:W FOR RV:HG~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from RF:VlF:W F'OR RF:IaG~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Familiaris Consortio: Themes and Theses Robert F. Morneau Bishop Morneau continues his commentaries on papal documents with this present article which, though not directly concerned with religious life, has much to say about being Christian. Bishop Morneau, Auxiliary Bishop of the Green Bay diocese, continues his work with the Ministry to Priests Program, and may be addressed at that office: 1016 N. Broadway; De Pere, WI 54115. On November 22, 1981, Pope John Paul I1 issued an apostolic exhortation Familiaris Consortio.~ This document on the family followed the Synod of Bishops n~eeting that dealt at length with issues of family life. A vast range of topics was discussed: I) the role of the family--its identity and mission. The centraliky of love was stressed with great clarity. 2) The meaning of human sexual-ity, meaning which can be found only when sexuality is perceived in relationship to the whole person and to the plan of God. 3) The call to the family to participate in the development of society. This challenge prevents a narrow parochialism and urges a social consciousness that is inclusive. 4) The character of rights for the family. Without justice there will be no peace in the home or among nations. 5) Concern for the hurting. Compassion demands that we reach out to the families that are broken and experiencing loss of any kind. Documents such as this exhortation serve a most important purpose in life, i.e., the sharing of a vision. Parker J. Palmer writes of the need for vision: Finally, we need to seek and find the grounds of Christian hope in the midst of our public crisis. Those grounds are to be found in God's promise of reconciliation and God's faithful-ness to that promise. We will touch that ground and root ourselves in it through prayer and ~'Apostolic Exhortati~, Familiaris Consortio, of His H~liness Pope John Paul II to the Episcopate, to the Clergy and the Faithful of the whole Catholic Church regarding the Role of the Christian Family in the Modern World (Rome: Vatican Polyglot Press, Nov. 22, 1981, pp. 176). 481 till2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 contemplation--not as an isolated individual act, but as directed and disciplined within the community of faith. Just as private and public life are halves of a larger whole, so private prayer and public worship are meant to be as one. In all these ways the Church can help renew that vision without which the people perish!2 In a society that is pluralistic, in a world ajar with great changes, in a Church undergoing rapid development, the vision of the family is bound to be obscured. Whatever can help clarify the basic elements of family life and its interdependence with the Church and society is invaluable in daily decision making. Familiaris Consortio provides a vision from which to evaluate and plan. Unfortunately, because of its length, this document may well find its way to the shelf unmarked and unread, suffering the same fate as Pacem in Terris, Laborem Exercens, and Redemptor Hominis. If this happens, th~ vision remains at a certain level of leadership but never gets into the minds and the hearts of the people. The problem is one of communication. This article attempts to give a general overview of the central themes of the document; its aim is to attract the reader to the primary source itself. Theme 1: Family T~esis: The Christian Family is a community of persons committed to self-giving and fidelity. The family, which is founded and given life by love, is a community of persons: of husband and wife, of parents and children, of relatives, Its first task is to live with fidelity the reality of communion in a constant effort to develop an authentic community of persons (18). The family is the first and fundamental school of social living: as a community of love, it finds in self-giving the law that guides it and makes it grow. The self-giving that inspires the love of husband and wife for each other is the model and norm for the self-giving that must be practiced in the relationships between brothers and sisters and the different generations living together in the family. And the communion and sharing that are part of everyday life in the home at times of joy and at times of difficulty are the most concrete and effective pedagogy for the active, responsible and fruitful inclusion of the children in the wider horizon of society (37). Loving the family means being able to appreciate its values and capabilities, fostering them always. Loving the family means identifying the dangers and the evils that menace it, in order to overcome them. Loving the family means endeavoring to create for it an environment favorable for its development (86). In his strong and sensitive novel A Death in the Family, James Agee writes of the delicate bonds of family life. Those bonds were ruptured when the father of the family was killed in a car accident. His son Rufus cries out to his mother: "Hide 'n Seek's just a game,just a game. God doesn't fool around playing games, does He, Mama! Does He! Does He!" The story paints the intersecting lines of relatives and friends offering sympathy and advice, raising questions and sharing consolation. A community of persons dealing with life and death, faith and doubt, joy and sorrow. A family at once imbued with love and yet wrenched with selfishness. 2Parker J. Palmer, The Company of Strangers iNew York: Crossroad, 1981), p. 33. Familiaris Consortio 483 Agee masterfully tells of people striving to sustain relationships in adverse orcum-stances, striving to comprehend life in the face of death. This finely tuned story provides an example of family life; the apostolic exhortation addresses itself to such a community and offers a faith perspective for dealing with life's questions. The backbone of family life is community. When a group of people lives out a common value system in which each individual is deeply loved and challenged, a oneness is formed which we call community. It ismore a process than a state of being. Its organic nature means that things never remain the same. This constant flux is not to be understood negatively. Rather, this positive change is called growth, the development which underlies every healthy family. The values are constant, their implementation and application continue to vary. Community happens when people truly care and share. The central act of the family and community is self-giving: the ability to be with and for others in a loving and compassionate way. This act is not without its risks. While it can and often does lead to acceptance, such sharing can also lead to rejection. Relationships demand trust, that invisible elixir, which creates an atmosphere in which dialogue and revelation can happen. Where do we find authentic family life? Where self-giving, trust, sharing and love abide! The prophets of the Hebrew scriptures confronted the people with the sin that destroyed the family of Israel: infidelit!! Hosea would say: "My people are dis-eased through their disloyalty" (Ho 11:7). The haunting motto semperfidelis must not be ignored. Family life and community depend upon depth commitment that is able to withstand the fierce testing of crises and weaknesses. Much grace is needed, especially in a culture that accepts infidelity as being "only human." Humorously, if sadly, we speak about a dog as being man's best friend--yet the fidelity of a dog does at times outrun human commitment. Often the apostolic document draws our attention to the power, necessity and beauty of fidelity. Theme 2: Sacrament of Marriage Thesis: The sacrament of marriage is God's special grace enlightening a couple to see their true vocation and empowering them to five it. The gift of the sacrament is at the same time a vocation and commandment for the Christian spouses, that they may remain faithful to each other forever, beyond every trial and difficulty, in generous obedience to the holy will of the Lord: "What therefore God has joined together. let not man put asunder" (20). A vivid and attentive awareness of the mission that they have received with the sacrament of marriage will help Christian parents to place themselves at the service of their children's education with great serenity and trustfulness, and also with a sense of responsibility before God, who calls them and gives them the mission of building up the Church in their children. Thus in the case of baptized people, the family, called together by word and .sacrament as the Church of the home. is both teacher and mother, the same as the worldwide Church (38). The social role that belongs to every family pertains by a new and original right to the Christian family, which is based on the sacrament of marriage. By taking up the human reality of the love between husband and wife in all its implications, the sacrament gives to Christian couples and parents a power and commitment to live their vocation as lay people and therefore to "seek the kingdom of God by engaging in temporal affairs and by ordering them 4~ltl / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 according to the plan of God" (47). The sacrament of marriage is the specific source and original means of sanctification for Christian married couples and families. It takes up again and makes specific the sanctifying . grace of baptism (56). God is love! In divine self-giving we receive that love which we call grace. Faith allows us to experience the mystery that God has made his home in our hearts, that we are indeed temples of the Spirit. As blood flows through our systems providing life and energy, so grace flows through life affording participation in the Divine Reality. Freely given, it must be freely accepted and exercised. Such gifted-ness does impose serious demands on the individual and the community. Because of this there is a tendency to resist the reception of God's love and to opt for that "cheap grace" which seemingly makes no demands. Such a choice is fatal because it is a lie. Grace will always remain true to its essence: love calling out to love. Once received it must be shared lest one's very integrity be shattered. Grace comes to married life and love through the sacrament of marriage in a very special way. This visible sign of God's incomprehensible love brings about what it signifies: union and holiness. Such is the vocation for all people. God provides specific help to couples who have special demands in the nurturing and sustaining of unique relationships. The sacrament has two sides: invitation and imperative. By means of the invitation each couple builds up the Church and by fulfilling the imperative they participate in the work of salvation. In order that this be known and deeply sensed, the apostolic exhortation stresses the significance of adequate preparation. An understanding of the meaning of grace, as well as the invitation and imperative that underlie it, is crucial to successful married life. Proper disposition makes possible a full response. Here, as in most situations, ignorance is not bliss. Anwar eI-Sadat, in his autobiography In Search of Identity, reflects on a central question of life, one's vocation: Without a vocation, man's existence would be meaningless. We have been created to bear the responsibility God has entrusted us with. Though different, each man should .fulfill his specific vocation and shoulder his individual responsibility? Marriage is a vocation, one sanctified by a sacrament. God's calling is accompan-ied by the necessary help enabling an adequate response in the light of one's gifts and talents. A sense of identity enriches family life and interpersonal relationships. Without this self-awareness, the inner poverty of relationships results in destructive deprivation. Only a sense of one's vocation allows for the proper ordering of life's many demands. Marriage as a basic vocation claims centrality: work, play and social engagements all take a secondary role. A constant challenge in life is to get in touch with one's vocation and to maintain an abiding awareness of this mystery. Theme 3: Mission/Task of the Family Thesis: Christian families are called to receive and share the divine graces of life and love. Looking at it in such a way as to reach its very roots we must say that the essence and role of Familiaris Consortio / the family are in the final analysis specified by love. Hence the family has the mission to guard, reveal and communicate love, and this is a living reflection of and a real sharing in God's love for humanity and the love of Christ the Lord for the Church his bride (17). Thus. with love as its point of departure and making constant reference to it, the recent Synod emphasized four general tasks for the family: I) forming a community of persons: 2) serving life: 3) participating in the development of society; 4) sharing in the life and mission of the Church (17). Therefore love and life constitute the nucleus of the saving mission of the Christian family in the Church and for the Church (50). A movie, novel, or a walk through Disneyland often offer a moment of escape from the harsher realities of life. In the film Raiders of the Lost Ark impossible missions are pulled off one after another. Sheer enjoyment, totally unreal. After such moments we reenter the real world: the world of work, the world of interna-tional conflict, the world of the family. Missions here seem impossible as well: to bring about justice, to foster peace, to live love. Indeed, without grace and great personal effort, the task is overwhelming, if not impossible: with discipline and divine assistance the ideals of justice, peace and love become historical realities. Authors from various disciplines have constantly commented on the task and mission of the family: love and life. A father did not visit his son, nor the son his father. Charity was dead? I've always been intense about relationships. At times, my love overwhelms people. And it puzzles me. My business is to IoveP ¯. and Alyosha's heart could not endure uncertainty because his love was always of an active character. He was incapable of passive love. If he loved any one. he set to work at once to love him? Thus writes Barbara Tuchman in her excellent study A Distant Mirror; in The Belle of Amherst playwright William Luce puts words into the mouth of Emily Dickinson; Dostoevsky too ponders the movements and the mystery of love in his character Alyosha. There is a certain messiness in the mission. Oftentimes motives are mixed in trying to love. Grace faces blockage and detours at every turn. Infrequent success and daily failures can be discouraging. 'Yet the moments of concern, care, respect and love--the central vocation of the human heart--are breakthroughs of healing redemptive life. The exhortation strikes dead center in urging families to guard love from every danger, to reveal love in trust and openness, to communicate love through honest dialogue. The mission is realized by means of such activity. Four specific tasks are delineated for the family: 1) The mission of forming 3Anwar eI-Sadat, In Search of Identity (New York: Harper Colophon Books, 1977), p. 82. aBarbara Tuchman, A Distant Mirror (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1978), p. 97. 5William l,uce, The Belle of A~nherst (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1976), p. 30. ~'Fyodor Dostoevsky. The Brothers Karamazov (New York: International Collectors Library, 1941), p. 171. 111~6 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 interpersonal relationships, of building community. Such formation demands time and self-giving; it is endangered by loss of identity and ambiguity about central values. 2) The mission of serving life by protecting the procreative and unitive functions of married love. Education and ongoing training are also tasks of par-ents. 3) The mission of participating in societal and political changes of society. Reaching out to the larger community prevents a destructive individualism. 4) The mission of becoming church. Through love, Christ is made present in our homes and in our world. Theme 4: Love Thesis: The heartbeat and central principle of family life is love. God is love and in himself he lives a mystery of personal loving communion. Creating the human race in his own image and continually keeping it in being, God inscribed in the humanity of man and woman the vocation, and thus the capacity and responsibility, of love and communion. Love is therefore the fundamental and innate vocation of every human being ( I I ). The inner principle of that task (to develop an authentic community of persons), its perma-nent power and its final goal is love: without love the family is not a community of persons and, in the same way, without love the family cannot live. grow and perfect itself as a community of persons (I 8). It cannot be forgotten that the most basic element, so basic that it qualifies the educational role of parents, is parental love. which finds fulfillment in the task of education as it completes and perfects its service of life: as well as being a source, the parent's love is also the animating principle and therefore the norm inspiring and guiding all concrete educational activity, enriching it with the values of kindness, constancy, goodness, service, disinterestedness, and self-sacrifice that are the most precious fruits of love (36). Vocation is a mystery. Who can explain exactly how a call comes into our lives and what makes it possible to respond? Faith offers some reflections on this matter and the Second Vatican Council clearly states that all people are called to holiness. The present document says the same thing but in a different way: the intrinsic calling of every person is love. How this universal vocation is lived out is deter-mined by the specific path an individual chooses: single life, married life, religious life. In a sense there is both freedom and determination here. We are free to choose our unique path, we are not free not to be loving and still retain our humanity. Romano Guardini understood well the process involved in discerning one's vocation: A vocation is no label marked "chosen" which can be fixed to a hum~in existence once and forever. It is a living intention of God, efficacy of his love in the chosen one. Only through the action taken by that person can it become reality.7 The family is inextricably involved in the vocation question. The pragmatic "how" question arises in the search for love and community within the family circle. Many forces that tend to block love and concern must be dealt with. How 7Roma~ao Guardini, The Lord (Chica~o: Henry Regnery Company, 1954), p. 94. Familiaris Consortio / 4117 can we live simple and fruitful lives in a culture characterized by chaos and violence? The good news of the Gospel draws our attention to the person of Jesus in whom we find love incarnate. The basic command is not merely a verbal communication--it is a lived reality. Before preaching, Jesus so often heals, frees, forgives--only then does he explain in word what has taken place. Such self-giving is the model for the family, the domestic church. Jesus shares with that church his Spirit that enables its members to fulfill the perfect command to be loving, forgiv-ing people. And within all this is a paradox: "Jesus' authentic power is revealed in his frailty and importance.'~ The power of powerlessness lies at the heart of love, at the heart of the family. Roots determine fruits. Where authentic parental love exists as the source of family life, then the possibility of various virtues finding expression in the lives of its members is probable. The apostolic exhortation lists six: I) Kindness: that attitude and action that affirms and strengthens one another: 2) Constancy: that rich fidelity fostering trust; 3) Goodness: love incarnate in a small word, gracious deed; 4) Service: awareness of and response to the needs of others; 5) Disinterested-ness: that unique self-forgetfulness in being for and with others: 6) Self-sacrifice: that realism that all love involves a cross. The vocation to love and to be loved is fulfilled only in grace. Theme 5: Sexuality Thesis: Sexuality finds its full meaning only when seen in the context of the human person, God's plan and love. Consequently, sexuality, by means of which man and woman give themselves to one another through the acts which are proper and exclusive to spouses, is by no means something purely biological, but concerns the innermost being of the human person as such. It is realized in a truly human way only if it is an integral part of the love by which a man and a woman commit themselves totally to one another until death. The total physical self-giving would be a lie if it were not the sign and fruit of a total personal self-giving, in which the whole person, including the temporal dimension, is present: if the person were to withhold something or reserve the possibility of deciding otherwise in the future, by this very fact he or she would not be giving totally (I I). In the context of a culture which seriously distorts or entirely misinterprets the true meaning of human sexuality, because it separates it from its essential reference to the person, the Church more urgently feels how irreplaceable is her mission of presenting sexuality as a value and task of the whole person, created male and female in the image of God (32). Education in love as self-giving is also the indispensable premise for parents called to give their children a clear and delicate sex education. Faced with a culture that largely reduces human sexuality to the level of something commonplace, since it interprets and lives it in a reductive and impoverished way by linking it solely with the body and with selfish pleasure, the educational service of parents must aim firmly at a training in the area of sex that is truly and fully personal: for sexuality is an enrichment of the whole person--body, emotions and soul--and it manifests its inmost meaning in leading the person to the gift of self in love (37). ~Jon Sobrino, S.J. Christology at the Crossroads. trans, by John Drury (New York: Orbis Books. 1978), p. 281. 41111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 When things are disconnected, they become distorted. The absolutizing ten-dency to identify a part for the whole is not uncommon. A recent movie/play, The Elephant Man, demonstrates what happens when a single moment of life excludes other factors. Most people were unable to move beyond the elephant man's deformity and penetrate to the rich, inner beauty of his person. Sexuality has suffered over the years from the absolutizing impulse that has fragmented this great and powerful gift. When sexuality is reduced to physicality, emotionality or pleasure, meaning is lost. Familiaris Consortio presents a different vision. Here sexuality is understood as an integral part of the personality. It has meaning only in reference to the person and authentic love. This integral vision provides mean-ing and allows for prudential decision on how the gift will be used. Vision and virtue help to order this radical power in our lives. Though complex, sexuality is not incomprehensible; though innately powerful, sexuality is not uncontrollable. Certain things in history are a matter of life and death. One of these is human sexuality. Abundant life flows when this gift of sexuality is used with proper regard for the individual and is an expression of authentic love. Physical, emotional and spiritual life are all enriched. However, when sexuality is misused and becomes a form of manipulation or exploitation, few things are as destructive. Death is the consistent effect of unprincipled use of human sexuality. Here truth is abandoned, a lie is lived. The fruits are well-known: deception, secretiveness, joylessness, angst, boredom--exit Mrs. Robinson. Thus the paradox: that which can be most life-giving is capable of causing infinite harm. Sex education is an urgent need today. This obligation is frustrated because of confusion in regard to sexual matters, breakdown in communication, sheer ne-glect. Much information regarding sexual matters is transmitted through the mass media and peer groups, often highly distorted and erroneous. Justice is at stake. The child has the right to know; the duty rests primarily on parents. Assistance is often needed and other bodies (church and schools) get involved. One point must be stressed: ¯. the Church is firmly opposed to an often widespread form of imparting sex information dissociated from moral principle (37). The key issue is clear: human sexuality must always be dealt with in context: the context of love, the human person and God's plan. Theme 6: Education Thesis: Education is a primary duty and right of parents; the full growth and development of children depend upon the exercise of this obligation, The task of giving education is rorted in the primary vocation of married couples to partici-pate in God's creative activity: by begetting in love and for love a new person who has within himself or herself the vocation to growth and development, parents by that very fact take on the task of helping that person effectively to live a fully human life (36). According to the plan of God, marriage is the foundation of the wider community of the family, since the very institution of marriage and conjugal love are ordained to the procreation and education of children, in whom they find their crowning (14). Familiaris Consonio / 489 The mission to educate demands that Christian parents should present to their children all the topics that are necessary for the gradual maturing of their personality from a Christian and ecclesial point of view. They will therefore follow the educational lines mentioned above. taking care to show their children the depths of significance to which the faith and love of Jesus Christ can lead (39). Full growth and development demand education. This process of learning is of special significance in the first decade of a person's life. Here the twig is bent, the fate of the tree deeply influenced. In the confines of the home a type of informal education is always at work. By osmosis children are assimilating the values, thoughts and life-style of their parents. There will be times of more formal educa-tion: planned discussion, structured dialogue, explicit exchange of facts and per-spectives. Whether formal or informal, the learning process nourishes the mind and heart as food does the body. Intellectual needs are as deep as bodily ones. If deprived of proper feeding, strange compensatory behavior sets in, causing serious disorder or relationships. If nourishment is well balanced, the result is a healthy home and society. Given the limitations of time, talent and skills, parents will necessarily reach out to others for help in the fulfillment of this primary obligation to educate their children. This appeal for help should not lead to abdication. Certain things can only be learned in the home: the art of sustaining relationships in close quarters, the ability to deal with moods over long periods of time, the gift of hospitality to strangers. In these and other areas, parents are always teaching, if not in word, certainly by their actions. To succeed in this duty parents must continue their own education. The formation of parents through information and transformation is necessary for the full dex~elopment of the family. In an age of rapid ~:hange and high activism, there is a special lesson that parents can teach their children, the lesson of silence: We have yet to accept and act upon the axiom that the cultivation of a habit of silence is an integral part of all true education; and that children, so far from looking upon a demand for silence as an unnatural and intolerable imposition, have an inborn aptitude for quietness.9 Such silence gives access to the voice of God and the deeper recesses of oneself. Contemplation then becomeg a possibility and this activity is essential to a full, human life. Constant activity and incessant noise destroy the conditions for true humanness: loving attention and presence to others. A quiet period in the day could well be one of the greatest blessings a child might learn from parents and the Theme 7: Society Thesis: The mutual relationship between family and society must be carefully Herman. Creative Prayer (Cincinnati. Ohio: Forward Movement Publications). p. 33. Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 nurtured and lovingly critiqued. The family has vital and organic links with society, since it is its foundation and nourishes it continually through its role of service to life: it is from the family that citizens come to birth and it is within the family that they find the first school of the social virtues that are the animating principle of the existence and development of society itself (42). The social role of families is called upon to find expression also in the form of political intervention: families should be the first to take steps to see that the laws and institutions of the State not only do not offend but support and positively defend the rights and duties of the family. Along these lines, families should grow in awareness of being "protagonists" of what is known as "family politics" and assume responsibility for transforming society: otherwise families will be the first victims of the evils that they have done no more than note with indifference. The Second Vatican Council's appeal to go beyond an individualistic ethic therefore also holds good for the family as such (44), The family and society have complementary functions in defending and fostering the good of each and every human being (45). The privatization of religion is a constant danger. This attitude compartmen-talizes one's relationship with God, separating it from economic, socio-political, cultural issues. Christians must be constantly challenged to assume their proper role in society by fostering a public outlook: A public outlook among Christians asks them to care for the good ordering of people who are not saved and may never be. It means having concern for arts and letters, the quality of life and its cultural dimensions, the institutions of education and the forms of politics--even if there is no direct payoff for the churches.~° This linkage to the larger social whole was a major concern at the Second Vatican Council: the Church is to participate in the amelioration of the world by being socially conscious and politically concerned. Again this vision is shared in Famil-iaris Consortio. Families are to participate in social happenings in dynamic and varied ways. Non-involvement will often threaten human dignity and justice since a vacuum will be created if people abdicate their duty of articulating and living Christian values. The notion of responsibility underlies the mutual relationships between family and society. This responsibility is grounded in power. The individual, the family, the society, the church and the state, all possess this ability to bring about or prevent change. When all these parties exercise responsible power in fostering the common good, then justice and peace result. The common good is served. Yet vested interest tends to direct energies and gifts meant for the growth of the community toward self-serving and self-preserving needs and wants. Injustice is effected and society and the family are greatly harmed. The exercise of power for the common good and the proper assumption of responsibility by each grouping are of vital importance to the Church and the modern world. Rugged individualism will continue to thwart the creation of a healthy society. Narrow parochialism, social myopia, crass apathy, indulgent consumerism, afro- *°Reflection of Martin E. Marty in Parker J. Palmer's The Company of Strangers, p. 13. Familiaris Consortio / 49"1 gant nationalism are cancer sores that mar and rend the human heart and human family. Society will never be rid of these illnesses but they can be minimized by fostering a social consciousness that truly sees others as one's brothers and sisters. This consciousness begins at home or it never begins at all. Parents enrich society by their involvement in societal and political issues and by encouraging their children to participate as fully as they can. Theme 8: Church Thesis: The family as the domestic church gets its true identity and sense of purpose from its ecclesial nature. Christian marriage and the Christian family build up the Church: for in the family the human person is not only brought into being and progressively introduced by means of education into the human community, but by means of the rebirth of baptism and education in the faith, the child is also introduced into God's family, which is the Church (15). Among the fundamental tasks of the Christian family is its ecclesial task: the family is placed at the service of the building up of the kingdom of God in history by participating in the life and mission of the Church (49). The Church, a prophetic, priestly and kingly people, is endowed with the mission of bringing all human beings to accept the word of God in faith, to celebrate and profess it in the sacraments and in prayer, and to give expression to it in the concrete realities of life in accordance with the girl and new commandment of love (63). There is a rich symbiotic relationship between the family and the Church. They need each other; they enrich each other. Through the family new life is raised up, potential members of God's family; through the Church, the grace of baptism gives entrance into the community of disciples. The family is as integral to the Church as cells are to the body. Both the community of the family and the Church are about the same task: acceptance and proclamation .of the Good News, worship in spirit and in truth, service to those in need out of love, the building up of the kingdom. In a special way the Church does this through sacramental, apostolic and educa-tional avenues; the family does it by living faith, hope and love in ordinary and concrete situations. Several times in this apostolic exhortation Pope John Paul 1! stresses the building of the kingdom of God in history. Our liturgy describes some aspects of that kingdom: a kingdom of truth and life, a kingdom of holiness and grace, a kingdom of justice, love and peace.~ The Church and family intersect at this junction. Both strive to promote the realities of God's saving mysteries. Both are at the service of Jesus, the Lord of heaven and earth. Both find in him truth and life; in him the oneness with the Father; in him the love that makes justice and peace reality. Christ Jesus is the "Preface for the Feast of Christ the King. 4~)2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 center of the Christian home and the Church. Romano Guardini refreshes our faltering memories: "Faith" in the sense of the New Testament means not only religious trust, reverence, self-surrender, but something specific: man's relationship to Christ and to the God who speaks through him which Christ demanded.~2 Two phenomena characterize the twentieth century: confusion about identity and the subsequent loss of meaning. Who are we? What are we to do? What is our destiny? The Church has a self-understanding that embraces mystery. Yet the task is clear: be a prophetic, kingly and priestly people! With such a vision the Christian family comes to its own self-understanding: the family also is to be a community of persons and the task and mission is the same as the Church's. No small grace here. Amid all the confusion and ambig6ity a sense of direction and purpose emerges. Energies can now be directed in meaningful ways. The Christian family is deeply enriched by seeing and living this relationship with the Church. Theme 9: Values Thesis: Family life is grounded in the knowledge and expression of basic gospel values. Christian families can do this (bear witness to the kingdom and the peace of Christ) through their educational activity--that is to say by presenting to their children a model of life based on the values of truth, freedom, justice and love--both through active and responsible involvement in the authentically human growth of society and its institutions, and by support-ing in various ways the associations specifically devoted to international issues (48). The Christian family also builds up the kingdom of God in history through the everyday realities that concern and distinguish its state of life. It is thus in the love between husband and wife and between the members of the family--a love lived out in all its extraordinary richness of values and demands: totality, oneness, fidelity and fruitfulness--that the Christian family's participation in the prophetic, priestly and kingly mission of Jesus Christ and of his Church finds expression and reali:,ation (50). Many negative phenomena which are today noted with regret in family life derive from the fact that. in the new situations, young people not only lose sight of the correct hierarchy of values but, since they no longer have certain criteria of behavior, they do not know how to face and deal with the new difficulties (66). Freedom, truth, justice, love, totality, oneness, fidelity, fruitfulness! These are the pillars (values) that support the community of persons we call the family, society and church. The importance of these values can readily be seen in contrast to their opposites: enslavement, falsity, injustice, hatred, non-commitment, divi-sion, infidelity, sterility. None of these categories are ultimately abstract; they. are not esoteric philosophical constructs. Rather, they provide the attitudinal base from which life is lived. Values shape decisions which in turn terminate in concrete action. Our actions have consequences that either humanize or destroy people. In evaluating our lives we move beyond specific, individual acts to the root system-- the values from whence they flow. These values truly characterize the essence of ~2Romano Guardini. p. 436. Familiaris Consortio / 493 our personality. Choices in life! To teach in the catechetical program or spend more time with the children; to build a new room onto the house or give more money to the poor: to take in a refugee child or prod the government to promote international justice. These choices are not necessarily exclusive but a theology of limitation restricts how much we can do. The formation of conscience is based not only on values but also the ordering of these values. What is helpful here is a guiding vision: To be an effective member of the Church. one needs a guiding vision. Such a vision should serve to interpret one's experience of life with fellow-believers, to suggest priorities and values, and to indicate ways in which the Church might make itself more effectively present in today's world.13 Value-free homes and societies are dissipated homes and societies, lacking direc-tion and purpose. Values provide a sense of meaning. The constant process of value clarification is urgently needed. The social scien-ces have methods to discern when values are truly authentic and when they are merely nominal. Internalized values have the markings of free choice, strong affective force and patterned activity. Clarifying our values helps to promote civil discourse, a discourse that is essential to keep our planet partially civilized. When values are confused and misunderstood, debate turns into a diatribe. Political, social and religious issues become muddied and constructive communication ceases. Value clarification is not the solution to world problems, but without some clarity there can be no progress. What is true of larger society is also true of the home. Clear values nourish healthy family life. Theme 10: Dangers and Difficulties Thesis: Inner and outer forces present major challenges to the delicate health of family life. On the other hand, however, signs are not lacking of a disturbing degradation of some fundamental values: a mistaken theoretical and practical crncept of the independence of the spouses in relation to each other: serious misconceptions regarding the relationship of author-ity between parents and children: the concrete difficulties that the family itself experiences in the transmission of values: the growing number of divorces: the scourge of abortion: the ever more frequent recourse to sterilization: the appearance of a truly contraceptive mentality (6). Consequently. faced with a society that is running the risk of becoming more and more depersonalized and standardized and therefore inhuman and dehumanizing, with the negative results of many forms of escapism--such as alcoholism, drugs and even terrorism--the family possesses and continues still to release formidable energies capable of taking man out of his anonymity, keeping him conscious of his personal dignity, enriching him with deep humanity and actively placing him, in his uniqueness and unrepcatability, within the fabric of society (43). Among the more troubling signs of this phenomenon (obscuring of certain fundamental values), the Synod Fathers stressed the following, in particular: the spread of divorce and of recourse to a new union, even on the part of the faithful" the acceptance of purely civil ~-~Avery Dulles, "Imaging the Church for the 1980"s." Thought. vo!. 56. no. 221 (June, 1981), p. 121. 4~4 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 marriage in contradiction to the vocation of the baptized to "be married in the Lord": the celebration of the marriage sacrament without living faith, but for other motives; the rejection of the moral norms that guide and promote the human and Christian exercise of sexuality in marriage (7). Teilhard de Chardin's work The Divine Milieu shows the deepest reverence for the environment, human-divine-natural, that surrounds and sustains us. When that environment is affected adversely, there is a breakdown in the rich interde-pendence of all life. Family life is no exception to this universal phenomenon. Certain negative attitudes are in the air and certain ways of relating are becoming accepted that are injurious and destructive of communities of persons: divorce that rends and tears the hearts and minds of parents and children; misunderstanding and subsequent misuse of the gift and beauty of sexuality: erroneous attitudes regarding freedom; a striving for a type of independence that makes relationships impossible. The litany is long and off-key: the pain and the hurt are even more far-reaching and dissonant. Realism demands that we share the full portrait. Healthy family life does survive and is the source of much hope and joy. There are homes where children rejoice in the love and care shown by their parents; there are homes in which youth are given a sense of dignity and respect; there are homes that are sites of caring education and gracious growth. God has promised his presence to the family and with that presence comes the grace to fulfill that unique and noble vocation of every home--the sharing of love. Familiaris Consortio offers a blueprint, charting the waterways of family life. The journey of Lewis and Clark was filled with many unnecessary delays and detours because of the lack of maps. Though they do not remove the struggle of the journey, maps do help in marking the way. The papal exhortation continues the apostolic mission: revealing the mystery of God's love and forgiveness which makes possible community, the building of the kingdom in which we hear and respond with love to the voice of the Lord. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions--I Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Sister Patricia, a psychotherapist, lectures on initial and on-going formation. She resides at the convent of the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart; 428 St. James Place: Chicago, IL 60614. The second part of her presentation will appear in the next issue of REWF.W FOR REI.IGIOUS. During the past few years, we religious have witnessed a ferment of activity in our congregations centering on drafting, writing and debating new constitutions. The Lord's charge to Habakkuk: Write down the vision clearly upon the tablet so that we can read it readily (Hab 2:2) is being taken seriously. Constitutional committees, feedback designs, provincial chapters have been devoted to this task. Some of us are already breathing a sigh of relief before a completed task, some of us are still laboring to clarify the vision or inscribe the tablets. But there is a hidden illusion here, that once the tablet is inscribed, the work is over! The Lord who told Habakkuk to write on the tablet also told Jeremiah that he, himself, would plant his law deep within, "writing it on their hearts" (Jr 31:33) instead of on fragments of stone or clay. So it is today. Whoever finishes "tablet-work" is at a crossroads of a more intense and crucial nature. The real task, the "heart work," is just beginning and the challenge which lies before us is far greater than the challenge we may have already surmounted. A beautiful document will remain just that and nothing more, unless it also becomes an opportunity for personal conversion, for personal adherence to its sources of inspiration: the gospel, and the charism of the individual congregation. New constitutions are indeed "a word that goes forth from my mouth" (Is 55:! i) and so may be likened to the seed in the parable of the sower (Mt 13:1-23). There the seed-word was met by a whole spectrum of attitudes that rendered it 495 4~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 more or less efficacious: from the indifference and defensiveness of those of "coarse heart., dull ears., shut eyes., fear [of] being converted," to the limited disponib~lity of those who "have no roots [since] trials., persecutions., worries ¯. riches choke the word," even after an initial joyful reception. The unconditional acceptance of those who are "good soil" is not found as often as we would like to believe. Human nature has not changed since the time those attitudes were described. The "word," whether of the gospel or of a congregation, will be as effective as each of us can allow it to be, personally and corporately. Our new constitutions are indeed a "two-edged sword," but we can block its passage to our "secret emotions and thoughts"(Heb 4:12). It is indeed a seed, bursting with the potentiality of life, but the finest seed in the world needs a welcoming environment. With all of our good will, each of us may be specializing in certain obstacles that may prevent these constitutions from taking root and producing the fruits of inner conversion, may render subjectively ineffective the objective grace of the moment. These obstacles, rather than our good will, may be at the root of our attitudinal decisions before the constitutions. Whether we realize it or not, we are not just passive recipients of these new documents. Each of us makes active decisions concerning them, with or without our awareness, and often the decision may be made before we even see the document. Neither is this "decision" an isolated factor in our life; rather it springs from the same soil which has fostered every other decision we have made. What Attitudinal Decisions Do New Constitutions Evoke in Us? What are some of the myriad possibilities of responses to this word, of attitudi-nal decisions before our constitutions, that could arise? We must recognize that anything which is both new and demanding naturally represents a threat to our established way of looking at things, to our life-style, to our values. It calls for change, for letting go of the comfortable and familiar, for embarking on untried and risky roads--even if only in small and subtle ways. It is good for us to recognize and admit how easily the gospel, our charism, our documents can threaten us. Our challenge lies in how we handle the stress which this threat brings. On the one hand we can resist in an active, rebellious way, challenging the need for norms, for institutional guidelines, for adherence to the magisterium of the Church. Or we can resist in a more subtle, passive way--remaining indifferent, unaffected; quietly ignoring what rubs us the wrong way. We can comply, go along with what is outwardly expected of us, as long as the community is aware of it or because the consequences of not "going along" would be too unpleasant. Or, at another level, we can accept the constitutions because "that's what good religious do," or because the present community to which we belong values them, and so should we. While this identification does not stop when we are no longer actually being observed by members of the community, the satisfaction due to our relation-ship with others is more important to us than the value itself. Thus, this attitudinal choice still leaves something to be desired. Our motivation remains external to us. From Tablet to Heart / 497 Finally, Luke describes the last category of listeners to the word as: people with a noble and generous heart who have heard the word and take it to themselves and yield a harvest through their perseverance (Lk 8:15). This is an excellent biblical description of what is meant by internalization: a true taking-to-heart of the value for its own sake, whether it is popular or unpopu-lar, whether we are being observed by others or not observed, whether it is gratifying or painful. Internalization of his Father's will was the only way that Jesus remained faithful unto death to his redemptive mission: rewards and friends had all disappeared; there remained only faith that this was what the Father called him to do. Vulnerability of Our Attitudes So we see that the great accomplishment of approved constitutions can falter and come to nothing, unless we are disposed to respond by attitudinal decisions that lead to the increase of internalization and the decrease of either resistance or compliance. We see that our attitudinal choices are vulnerable, with the result that, unknowingly, we may be moving towards an ephemeral and passing satisfaction instead of towards the true life that Jesus intends for each of us through these documents (see Jn 10:10). But what makes our attitudinal choices so vulnerable? What can we do about it? Perhaps we can begin by attempting to understand the source of these vulner-abilities. After all, it is a very ancient problem. The Israelites d~]ring the exodus could be seen to manifest the same spectrum of attitudes towards the covenant. Moses, in the words of the writer of Deuteronomy, finally put it to them clearly: I set before you life or death, blessing or curse: choose life then. (Dr 31:19). Let us begin to look more deeply into how, from the time of the Israelites to the present day, our choices can be torn between life and death, can lead us to our highest happiness or our greatest betrayal. To that end, let us look first at the source of these decisions--our very selves--and then at various aspects of these decisions. A. The Person as Locus of Attitudinal Decisions Attitudinal choices of life or death do not spring from a vacuum. They origi-nate in and are consistent with" that complex of motivations, forces and behaviors which we call "the self." Concentrating on the self, however, is not meant to be an exercise in individu-alism. Vitz~ warns us how the exaltation of the self and concentration on self-fulfillment result in a parody of our true selves. Kernberg2 has devoted many years ~Paul C. Vitz, Psychology as Religion: the Cult of Self- Worship (.Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1977). 2Otto Kernberg, Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism (NY: Jason-Aronson, 1975). __, "Why Some People Can't Love," Psychology Today (June, 1978), pp. 55-59. 1191t / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 to a study of the increasing manifestations of narcissism in American society that result in a pathology of the self. Hendin describes the culture of the Age of Sensation as: marked by a self-interest and ego-centrism that increasingly reduces all relations to the question: What am 1 getting out of it?~ Obviously such caricatures of the self are inimicable to the gospel which says "anyone who wants to save his life will lose it" (Mt 16:25). Nevertheless, it is precisely self-knowledge which can be the greatest aid to making it possible for us to lay down our lives. All the saints testify to this truth, but 1 will restrict myself throughout this article to two great woman saints: Catherine of Siena, the great laywoman and mystic of the fourteenth century, and Frances Xavier Cabrini, the zealous mission-ary of the twentieth century, who founded my own congregation, the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. If you would come to perfect knowledge and enjoyment of me, eternal life, never leave the knowledge of yourself . oh, how delightful to the soul and pleasing to me is holy prayer made in the house of self-knowledge and knowledge of me! (Catherine of Siena, The Dia-logue, no. 4,66). And when we begin to know ourselves, it is a grace so great that we can never thank Jesus enough since it is an illumination from his divine heart. Let us gratefully run along this way. (Frances Cabrini, Letters, no. 96). We have already insisted on the capacity of the self to function as an active sub-ject-- not just to react as the passive object of environmental stimuli. Our behavior may stem in part from external influences, but these influences are internally organized into already existing psychic structures that we normally call motiva-tions. Hence the motivations are as important as the behavior, the inner structures as important as the process of emotionally experiencing the environment. Neither is the self simply an organization of the present moment. We reach back to the past (which we may have forgotten) and forward to goals we have not yet attained. The actual needs of the past and present must be balanced with the ideals of the future, a fact which psychologists are more and more integrating into their self-theory. Wylie4 considers the sub-components of the self as the actual-self and the ideal-self. Kohut, who has devoted himself to the analysis of the self,~ speaks of its developing optimally from the interaction of ambition (needs) and ideals. Rulla6 further subdivides our actual-self with its needs and ambitions into a social, behavioral and latent self, and our ideal-self into a personal self-ideal as well SHerbert Hendin, The Age of Sensation (NY: McGraw-Hill & Co. 1977), p. 13. *R. C. Wylie, "The Present Status of Self Theory" in Handbook of Personality Theory and Research, Borgatta & Lambert, ed. (Chicago: Rand McNally, 1968), pp. 734-752. ~Heinz Kohut, The Analysis of the Se/f(NY: International Universities Press, 1977). 6Luigi M. Rulla, S.J., Depth Psychology and I/ocation (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1971), pp. 35-37. The theoretical framework of this article is derived from the writings and teachings of Rulla. From Tablet to Heart / 499 as the ideals we believe others expect of us (institutional-ideal). Rulla further distinguishes between the subjective ideals we personally hold as important to us and the extent to which these are consonant with objective ideals---especially the revealed values of the gospei and the following of Christ. Needs and Values Within Our Conscious and Unconscious Selves However, we must admit that the self often remains a mystery to us. Paul laments "I do not understand my own behavior" (Rm 7:!5). Conscious factors interact with unconscious forces within us, unknowingly influencing our decisions and our attitudes despite our good will. Because they are unknown to us (and our defenses may be strong enough to resist coming to know them), this unconscious part of the self can greatly contribute to the vulnerability of our attitudinal deci-sions. Whether we are talking about the "Known/Unknown-to-self" of the Johari Window,7 Freud's unconscious, or Rulla's latent self, we cannot ignore the fact that we unconsciously put obstacles in the way of taking the word to heart. Grace builds on nature--but we may abuse our God-given freedom by hiding from unpleasant truths which may be interfering with the action of grace. It is this unconscious aspect of the self that touches so deeply two primary attributes of the self: our human needs which are innate, universal and strive naturally for psycho-biological or psycho-social satisfaction; and our values and ideals which are developed in the course of a lifetime. We all have needs, e.g., aggressive, dependent, sexual, and so forth, but backgrounds and previous situa-tions may have made these needs so unacceptable to us that we divorce them from ourselves by a defensive barrier that relegates them to our unconscious self. Because they are buried, however, does not mean they are inactive; in fact they may be all the more influential because of our lack of awareness. At the other end of the spectrum of self-attributes are our values which natu-rally begin by being subjective and personal, but which should mature so that the objectivb values of Christ come to coincide with our personal ideals and choices (which is what internalization is all about). However there is a "tension arc" stretched between these two poles which can often result in the weaker values succumbing to stronger unconscious needs. In this case, the values never are internalized because of contradictions in the self between the actual and the ideal. Rulla has introduced the term "inconsistencies" to describe these poorly-integrated tensions between needs and values. While certain human needs may be consistent with the following of Christ, e.g., the need to achieve, to care for others (nurtur-ance), to overcome difficulties (counteraction), certain others such as inferiority (abasement), avoidance of pain (harm-avoidance), or defensiveness interfere with the following of Christ and hence may represent significant inconsistencies in individuals where they predominate. Ideally, we should be able to acknowledge and accept the presence of these inconsistencies which we all have, integrate them 7joseph Lufl. Group Processed (Palo Alto: National Press, 1961). 500 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 in a manner appropriate to a vowed life, and thus be freer to be attracted by and assimilate the values of Christ. However, when the block of unconscious needs cannot be acknowledged, a vicious circle begins of denying what we most need to deal with, of distorting our image of ourselves to match our ideal-self instead of dealing with what is actually present. Self As Holistic, Structural, Purposive Thus far we have seen that our attitudinal choices originate in a self that is both reactive and becoming, both conscious and unconscious, both real and ideal in our efforts to integrate values and needs in a consistent way. Another theorist, Jane Loevinger,8 describes the necessary characteristics that must be incorporated into a healthy self, or into any adequate self-theory. Thus, among other elements, she maintains that the self must be understood as holistic, structural and purposive. When we interpret this in the light of religious life, several implications concerning the self emerge: The holistic self." Self as the locus of growth in Christ and for purposes of internali-zation must be seen as the integration of all its aspects: conscious and unconscious; active and passive; the psycho-biological, psycho-social, and psycho-spiritual: the cognitive, affective and volitional; the real and the ideal. The part that each element has to play in the final ordering of a mature consistent self is not just a result of haphazard whim or fancy. Rather, true integration moves from more primitive, ego-centered positions to more advanced levels that do not exclude the earlier but incorporate them into newer, more mature patterns. The structural self." A great many theorists today stress the self as being in process; problems are envisioned in terms of blocked emotional and experiential pro-cesses. 9 They emphasize those components of ourselves that are or should be in movement, in flux, in change. While this approach contains an undeniable truth, a holistic approach includes other aspects as well. We are not only emotion, flux, becoming. Our inner selves are also organized into stable structured patterns of needs, motivations and ideals; of behavioral tendencies and patterns of relation-ships that are remarkably stable, resistant to change and indeed form the source of our emotional reactions, our manner of experiencing the world and our behavioral tendencies. Thus while our structures or psychic patterns seem to epitomize Our stable and non-changing elements, in reality we can experience no real change unless these very structures are touched and altered. A structural view of the self is sound not only from a psychological point of view but also from a theological. The late Gustave Weigel in his considerations on Theology and Freedom looks first at the self which is capable of reaching freedom. He contrasts an experiencing self in flux as: 8Jane Loevinger, ~Theories of Ego Development" in ClinieabCognitive Psychology: Models and Inte-gration, L. Breger, ed. (Englewood Cliffs, N J: Prentice-Hall, 1969), pp. 87-99. 9E.g., most of the humanistic schools--Rogers, Maslow, et al. From Tablet to Heart / 51~1 isolated, unrelated consciousness, floating without orientation or direction on the mysterious sea of existence, itself selfless with the self as presumed by Catholic theology which begins with the supposition that the self is structured and its affirmations must be related to that structure.~0 ¯ Thus a view of the self without structure and only in process cannot help us either spiritually or humanly. If a religious has unknowingly reacted all his or her life so as to comply with the sacrifices invited, by chastity, poverty and obedience and has never really internalized them, he or she has unwittingly formed a pattern and a structure of compliance that will not change only by focusing on his or her emotions and experiences. The roots of our patterns must be dealt with before lasting, significant change can occur. The purposive self." Loevinger sees the self as inherently striving for meaning, purpose, goals--echoing the ideal-self of Wylie, Rulla, Kohut, et al. Frankl speaks of the "will to meaning" as opposed to "the will to pleasure." Indeed happiness, fulfillment, identity are all side effects of the successful search for meaning: It may now have become clear that a concept such as self-actualiTation, or self-realization, is not a sufficient ground for a motivational theory. This is mainly due to the fact that self-actualization, like power and pleasure, also belongs to the class of phenomena which can only be obtained as a side effect and are thwarted precisely to the degree to which they are made a matter of direct intention. Self-actualization is a good thing: however. I maintain that man can only actualize himself to the extent to which he fulfills meaning. Then self-actualization occurs spontaneously: it is contravened when it is made an end in itself.~ Indeed the capacity to commit ourselves marks our highest capacity, our ability to transcend ourselves, to go beyond gratification and pleasure to value and meaning. To the extent that the values and meanings for which we transcend ourselves are objective and true (consistent with our self-as-it-ought-to-be), happi-ness and self-fulfillment will gradually emerge as side effects. Thus, new constitutions ought to prick and challenge us--make us uncom-fortable- not be already within our grasp. Our tendency can be, however, to "cut down to size," reduce the demand quality of something which may annoy and anger us because it disturbs our comfort. We have to be willing to forego, unlike the rich young man (Mk 10:17-22), the gratification of"but I've already been doing all that," to push forward, stretch, go beyond where we are, to transcend our own comfort in the service of values which have originated beyond us. The Subjectivization of Values Both Frankl and Rulla have been very concerned with the relativization and individualization of values which we see so often in modern society. Values which ~0Gustave Weigel, S.J., "Theology and Freedom" in Foundations./'or "a Psychology of Grace (Glen Rock. N J: Paulist Press, 1966), p. 188. ~Victor Frankl, Psychotherapy and Existentialism (NY: Clarion Bks, 1967), p. 8. 502 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 should be objective and clear become subjectively evaluated (for discarding or adaptation); we tend to elevate ourselves and our needs as ends in themselves, thereby actually making ourselves into an object. We become the measure of the value instead of the value calling us forth. Here our ideal-self has become absorbed into our actual-self and has become its puppet, instead of being a liberating, independent force which urges our actual-self further along the road to maturity and freedom. An adaptation of one of Frankl's diagrams can help us envision this tendency more clearly:12 Strong human needs (1) especially unconscious ones that are dissonant with the following of Christ can cause the values (2) to be unconsciously "adjusted" (subjectified) so that the person (3) becomes the norm (objectified). This may lead to temporary self-fulfillment and gratification, but not to lasting happiness because it has diluted the values that encouraged us towards self-transcendence. Frankl calls for changing this situation through re-objectifying the values and re-subjectifying the person by means of a value-oriented theory and practice (4). To the extent that we can realize this, to that same extent can we find a true self-fulfillment in Christ that comes as a result of having transcended ourselves. Unless a grain of wheat fails on the ground and dies, it remains a single grain: but if it dies. it yields a rich harvest (Jri 12:24). Thus far we have considered the self with its intricate weaving of values and needs, structure and function, elements known-to-self and unknown-to-self as the source of our attitudes ranging from acceptance to refusal of God's design. Now let us turn to examine more closely the process and result of our decision-making, so '~Ibid., p. 66. From Tablet to Heart / 503 as to better understand the interactions of nature and grace within us. To do this, we shall look at attitudinal decisions from three aspects: spiritual philosophical and psychological. B. The Spiritual Dimension of Our Attitudinal Decision We can consider the spiritual dimension of decisions and attitudes since, in a holistic and purposive view of the self, over and above the fact that our capacities are God-given in themselves, we can and ought to reach out for transcendent goods. Thus our decisions may be considered spiritual on the basis of their object, i.e., what is being chosen, and on their mode, i.e., how the "what" is being chosen, under the influence of what--grace or inconsistent human needs. God calls, and awaits our human decision. He offers us his grace that makes possible but not obligatory our decision to respond to a transcendent good. Thus our decision may be the meeting ground between nature and grace--an encounter between two liberties. But, as we have already seen, this liberty to ,respond may be conditioned by various factors, notwithstanding our good will and sincere desire to serve God. This is our subjective holiness, the extent to which we actually do respond to grace in spite of our human limits and weaknesses. However, we also have to consider objective holiness--the extent to which we could respond to God if our liberty was less impaired, i.e., if there were less unknown inconsistencies with which we had to struggle.~3 We are responsible within the bounds of subjective holiness because there we know the weaknesses against wfiich we must consciously struggle. Obviously, we are not responsible for what we do not know--our hidden faults and failings--but we are responsible to do what is in our power to become aware of them. This is what the saints tried to do constantly--to become aware of what was formerly hidden from them through reflection, prayer, examen, and so forth. And because they were not defensive, they usually succeeded. Cabrini writes: We shouldn't be surprised at our defects, for such marveling comes from pride, but let us humble ourselves and reflect that they are like windows where the light enters so we can know ourselves better. Only humility is called the beginning of all perfection; why shouldn't our defects help to know ourselves better and become more humble? (Pensieri e PropositL p. 166-167.) Discernment When we consider the object and mode of our choices, we are reminded of St. Ignatius' rules for the discernment of spirits: whether the soul is choosing a real or an apparent good; whether this soul is being drawn by grace or by "evil spirits." How can we discern between these two goods, since nothing is chosen except under the aspect of good? Or, as Lonergan would have it, how can we discern whether we are being drawn by the goods of the "ego-centered self" or the "ego-transcending self"?. It is beyond the scope of this work to comment in detail on the ~-~Luigi M. Rulla, S.J., Joyce Ridick, S.S.C., Franco Imoda, S.J., Entering and Leaving Vocation (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1976), pp. 212-214. 504 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 parallels between Ignatian discernment and modern vocational depth-psychology: the reader is referred to the numerous articles that have appeared recently in this vein)4 Suffice it to say that the real goods of the kingdom are consistent with the revealed objective truths of the gospel and of Church teaching: that they are concerned with discovering and living God's will regardless of the cost, and not our plan for ourselves; and that such goods leave intact or intensify our intimacy with Christ, our acceptance of and living out of his word, even when that entails great sacrifice and hardship. In some cases it is fairly easy to discern the real from the apparent good: at other times we know what God wants even though we feel humanly repulsed by it. Many times, however, the case is not so clear; we can be convinced that God wants something when in reality it is our own inconsistent tendencies that want it. Sometimes we later see and understand our error: sometimes we never discover that truth. St. Ignatius tells us to look for "consolation without cause" following the choice of the real good--and desolation when this is not so. Unfortunately, our emotional weighing of a good to be chosen can be confused by unconscious inconsistencies rendering our emotions unreliable guides. Consolation and desolation do not necessarily identify with pleasure and pain., only when affeetivity is ordered can it in turn become the clue to the direction in which one should go within the myriad good options that surround one's life (Italics mine).~5 Grace or Gratification? We have considered "decision for what?" The issue of "how, under what influence?" is equally important. How do we discern if grace or gratification is what moves us? Certainly, grace moves us in the direction of the real good: our conversion to the will of God and the imitation of Christ. Grace enables us to go beyond our natural desires for natural goods and to take root in a transcendent love of Jesus Christ. Not only does grace make conversion possible (Lonergan's operative grace) but enables us to cooperate with it so as to effect the gradual movement towards a full and complete transformation of the whole of one's living and feeling¯ one's thoughts, words, deeds and omissions.~ But how can we tell if it is really grace at work, or our own needs? There are no litmus tests for the Spirit, no computer analysis which can pin him down. But holy men and women from the dawn of the Christian era have used their spiritual ~'~Luigi M. Rulla, S.J., "The Discernment of Spirits and Christian Anthropology," Gregorianum (Vol. 59, 3: 78), pp. 537-569. Laurence Murphy¯ S.J., "Psychological Problems ~f Christian Choice." The Way, 1~75, pp. 25-28. ¯'Psychological Development," Supplement to 7he Way, n.38 (Summer. 1980), pp. 30-40. Louis Gendron¯ S.J., "The Exercises and Vocational Therapy," Supplement to The Way, n.38 (Summer, 1980), pp. 53-67. ~Michael Buckley¯ S.J., "Rules for the Discernment of Spirits," Supplement to The Way, no.20 (1973), pp. 29-35. ~rBernard J. Lonergan¯ S.J.¯ Method in Theology. 2nd ed. (NY: Herder and Herder. 1973), p. 241. From Tablet to Heart / 505 intuition, the fruits of disponibility to grace, to discern. Rahner, using the most simple and commonplace of means, discerns that only grace can be at work in the following instances: Have we ever kept quiet, even though we wanted to defend ourselves when we had been unfairly treated? Have we ever forgiven someone even though we got no thanks for it and our silent forgiveness was taken for granted? Have we ever obeyed, not because we had to and because otherwise things would have become unpleasant for us, but simply on account of that mysterious, silent incomprehensible being we call God and will?. Have we ever tried to love God when we are no longer being borne on the crest of the wave of enthusiastic feeling, when it is no longer possible to mistake our self. and its vital urges, for God?. Have we ever been good to someone who did not show the slightest sign of gratitude or comprehension and when we also were not rewarded by the feeling of having been "selfless," decent, etc.?~7 It is interesting from a psychological point of view how clearly Rahner sees that an inordinate need for self-esteem can be an obstacle to our growth in grace and holiness: when it is more important for our self-esteem to be boosted up by others' good opinion of us, our own positive evaluation of ourselves, uplifting emotional experiences, and so forth; when it is more important for us to feel good about serving God than simply to serve God for his own sake. Self-esteem is essential; abasement (a helpless sense of inferiority) is a deterrent to growth in holiness. But our self-esteem should be secure enough to withstand at times the lack of external supports and proofs of how good we are. Rahner, in commenting on the latter occasions, goes on to say: If we find such experiences, then we have experienced the spirit., when we let ourselves go in this experience of the spirit, when the tangible and assignable, the relishable element disap-pears, when everything takes on the taste of death and destruction, or when everything disappears as if in an inexpressible white, colorless and intangible beatitude--then in actual fact it is not merely the spirit but the Holy Spirit who is at work in us. Then is the hour of grace . The chalice of the Holy Spirit is identical in this life with the chalice of Christ. This chalice is drunk only by tho~ who have slowly learned in little ways to taste the fullness in emptiness, the ascent in the fall, life in death, the finding in renunciation. Anyone who learns this, experiences the spirit--the pure spirit--and in this experience he is also given the experience of the Holy Spirit of grace.~ Thus we see that evaluating our attitudinal decisions in the light of the spirit has to focus on the object of our choice (real, ego-transcending goods; apparent, ego-centered goods or the whole spectrum inbetween) and on the mode of our choosing (under the influence of grace or of gratification). Our constitutions are a real good, calling for that transcendence which leads to greater assimilation of Christ and consistent living of the gospel. "It is now no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me" (Ga 2:20). Such a transformation can only be possible with the aid of grace, but grace is "God;s action on the psychic structure of man,''~9 and those same psychic structures can also render grace ineffective. ~TKarl Rahner. S.J., "Reflections on the Experience of Grace" in Theological Investigations. Vol. Ill (NY: Seabury Press, 1974), p. 87. ~Slbid. p. 88. ~gRulla, 1971, pp. 167-8. 501~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 C. The Philosophical Dimension of Our Attitudinal Decisions The intellect, memory and will have traditionally been the principal faculties of man which have concerned the great philosophical theorists of the past. Modern thinkers have elaborated on the traditional criteria and begun to determine other intervening variables which must also be considered. Their contributions can be enlightening in our search for greater understanding of our attitudinal decisions. Lonergan20 analyzes the conscious operations of man to see how conscious decisions are reached, as summarized in this chart: Level of Faculty Operation Product Consciousness Senses Registration of empirical sense data Perception Empirical cs. Intellect Understanding (inquiry) Hypothesis Intelligent cs. Judgment (critical reflection) Validated insight Rational cs. Will Will: willing; willingness Decision Responsible cs. Decisions are built upon all the preceding conscious operations. Our intellect not only takes what has been perceived (level of experience) to inquire ("What is it?") and reach a hypothesis ("! think it's X!'), but also judges ("Was that fight?") to validate the original insight ("No, it was a Y!'). Only then do we, according to Lonergan, reach the level of responsibility where we can make a decision (therefore, I'll . . .). In reality, for example, a feeling of unrest (sense data) gets tentatively tagged ("Maybe I'm angry"), then validated ("As a matter of fact, I'm furious!'), before reaching a decision ("1'11 try to get hold of this, see what's causing it and not just attack the first person in sight!'). "An admirable decision!" we might say, but it is not one that occurs automatically. Lonergan's four steps are clear, but they do not explain why the resulting decisions could be so different from person to person. We can fail to come to a correct hypothesis of the same sense data ("They're all against me!"), fail to validate it properly ("As a matter of fact, they're figuring out how to get rid of me!"), and so come tb a completely different decision ("1"11 get even--I'll outsmart them all!'). In this example, it is obvious that emotion acted as intervening factor to distort the appropriateness of our final decision even if the four operations remained the same. To help us resolve this dilemma, Lonergan distinguishes at the level of respon-sibility between will, i.e., the bare capacity to make a decision, exercised or not; willing, i.e., the act of deciding; and willingness, i.e., a readiness to decide that does not need persuasion to bring it about.2~ Obviously, there are some objective goods -'°Lonergan, Method. pp. 6-16. __, Insight: A Study of Human Understandingo(I,ondon: I_ongmans Green, 1958), pp. 271- 278; 608-616. Ibid., pp. 622-23. From Tablet to Heart / 507 that we might be more reluctant to choose than others. This reluctance of ours is our lack of '~antecedent willingness." The whole issue of freedom is concerned here--not just essential freedom which is innately given to our nature, but even more important for our discussion, our effective freedom, i.e., "the broad or narrow., operation range" which this essential freedom can exercise.22 But, according to Lonergan, one of the requirements for effective freedom is precisely that antecedent willingness of which we have been speaking. Furthermore, Loner-gan sees grace as directly affecting this antecedent willingness,23 the grace of sincere effort even without guarantees of successful outcome. Finally, antecedent willing-ness is directly affected in conversion: To religious conversion. I would ascribe as a minimum two notes: First. it is a change in one's antecedent willingness: one becomes antecedently willing to do the good that previously one was unwilling to do . 24 And yet how do we become antecedently willing to do the good? What is there that prevents our passage into that state of mind and heart? What more must be considered? Rulla makes some useful comments when he considers the interrelationship of personal dispositions, affective and effective, on Lonergan's four conscious opera-tions. As in the previous!y quoted example, emotions originating from needs may influence our perception of X, our first hypothesis concerning X, and our judg-ment concerning our first impression. Emotions and human needs can befuddle us enough when they are conscious; the situation is even more serious when our needs and the subsequent emotions are unconscious and, therefore, even more influential on how we judge a situation. Hence, affective dispositions, whether conscious or unconscious, influence effective dispositions (and especially antecedent willingness) that lead to decision-making. With antecedent willingness thus limited, our effec-tive freedom is also limited, with the result that our emotions resulting from our needs (especially when unconscious) can form the single most effective barrier to God's gift of conversion. Our resistance to cooperative grace can render the gift ineffective. D. The Psychological Dimension of Our Attitudinal Decisions We have looked at the process of decision-making from the point of view of grace on the one hand, and our will on the other. What remains is to see in what way psychology can complement and round out what we have already seen. Magda Arnoldz5 has devoted her life to a phenomenological analysis of emo- "-'-Ibid., p. 619. 23Bernard J. Lonergan. S.J. Foundations of Theology: McShane. ed. (Dublin: Gill and Macmillan¯ 1971), p. 226. ~'~Lonergan, Method, p. 241. ~Magda Arnold¯ Feelings and F~notions (NY: Academic Press, 1970). ¯ Emotion and Personality. II Vol. (NY: Columbia, 1960). 501~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 tion, especially in its influence on choice, will, and action. Her work is both scientifically sound, value-oriented, and appreciative of our transcendent dimen-sion. Arnold maintains that all choice--even of the most transcendent goods-- usually involves an emotional component which normally is derived from a basic human need on the psycho-biological and/or psycho-social level. Actually, truly human decision-making is a secondary possibility that follows from a more primi-tive instinctual movement. In this earlier phase, something is perceived, and immediately appraised, in a spontaneous, involuntary manner, as "good or bad for me here and now," i.e., as appealing to a basic instinct or need. Usually a spon-taneous emotion of attraction or withdrawal is the result. Emotional Wanting Three additional factors enter into this intuitive appraisal or emotional warn-ing. The first is the physiological reaction which accompanies normal emotion, e.g., changes in cardiac and/or respiratory functions, changes in hormone and enzyme secretions, tensing/relaxing of voluntary and involuntary muscles (from which the whole gamut of psycho-physiological disease can emerge). Often, if we are insensitive to our emotional states, our bodily changes may be the first indica-tions we will have--although we may remain in the dark as to the source of our physical discomfort. The second element in intuitive appraisal has already been indirectly noted, i.e., that we may be unaware of the emotional reaction which is taking place. Two components may become involved here, either the object of the emotion (e.g., at whom I am angry) or the experience of the emotion itself (e.g., the fact that I am angry). In either case, my defenses have arisen so that part of what I am subjec-tively experiencing becomes lost to my awareness even though it continues to influence me. The further pity is that I can no longer do anything about it and will remain enslaved to an unknown factor. In this case, I can no longer exercise my capacity for conscious choice (e.g., what ! am going to do about my anger). The reason behind my lack of awareness (partial or total) of my emotional state may involve the third factor, "affective memory." Memory involves not only the who, what, when. and how of the past (modality-specific memory), but also the specific feelings which that event or person aroused in me, e.g., fear, attraction, hatred, inferiority (affective memory). It is quite possible for the modality-specific dimension to drop from awareness behind the defensive barricade while the affec-tive dimension is being aroused time and time again--explaining why, for exam-ple, I continually have the same angry reaction towards authority figures, since my affective memory is being stirred up in each case. Hence, this emotion-laden deposit may be a hidden factor which predetermines me towards/away from a particular decision/course of action. The connection between Arnold's affective memory and Lonergan's antecedent willingness should be apparent. Furthermore, when mention was made in the previous section of the affective dispositions which influence Lonergan's conscious operations, it was precisely this issue of emotional wanting and affective memory that was meant. From Tablet to Heart / 509 Rational Wanting Are we, then, to remain a slave to our emotional vagaries and to the needs from which they spring? No, for Arnold has determined that a second phase of the decisional process may follow the first. 1 say "may" because I can stop at the level of emotional wanting ("l want it/l don't want it") and mislake that for a real decision. Certainly, animals and small children have no further possibilities, but as we chronologically mature, our capacity for reflective appraisal or rational want-ing should mature also. Here, what is appraised and judged is the emotional reaction and its accompanying tendency: "OK, I feel that way! now what am 1 going to do about it?" Here, the possibility for a real decision, not just an emo-tional reaction, occurs. The emotion and its source is consciously and calmly accepted, but we remain in control to decide whether or not to follow the emo-tional tendency. Here we move beyond our spontaneous reactions to the possibil-ity of free choice: if human needs from our actual-self were the source of the initial emotional movement, we can contrast and weigh them against the values, ideals, and commitments of our ideal-self Here, Lonergan's true level of responsibility has been reached, because we can truly take hold of the movement of our lives and give it responsible shape. Either form of decisions can prevail in a given life, either the pseudo-decisions of emotional wanting, or the true decisions of reflective judgment and rational wanting. In the first case we have the child, the immature adult--the man of James' epistle who looks at himself "and then, after a quick look, goes off and immediately forgets." In the second case, we have the man who looks steadily at the perfect law of freedom and makes that his habit--not listening and then forgetting, but actively putting it into practice (Jm 1:25). This is a portrait of a consistent individual who knows and integrates both needs and values in an increasingly mature and transcendent life-style. Not only must we respond appropriately to our human affectivity, but we must also be open to feel increasingly attracted to transcendent goods as well--intimacy with Jesus and the desire to imitate him, which is the hallmark of the emotional integration and affective maturity of the saints. The understanding., is moved by affection [which] is love's hand. and this hand fills the memory with thoughts of me and of the blessings 1 have given . IT]he soul cannot live without love. She always wants to love something, because love is the stuff she is made of ICatherine of Siena, The Dialogue. 51). What Function Does This Value Have in My Life? Obviously we form habits of reaction or decision-making in both emotional wanting and rational wanting. Pervasive attitudes are being established which form a matrix of"readiness to respond" in the direction of our needs/emotions or of our values and their attractiveness. Hence the phrase "attitudinal decisions," since each decision that we make is based" on the foundation of our previous attitudes, emotional wantings and rational wantings, known and unknown. 5"10 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 Let us focus more closely on this all-important attitudinal factor. We have myriads of attitudes--beliefs about this or that person, the community, the super-ior, the ministry in which I am engaged, the responsibility which 1 might be asked to assume. The basic components which underlie this multitude are more limited since our attitude towards any particular object is shaped largely by our needs or by our values; hence we may speak of emotional attitudes or rational attitudes (with the obvious admixtures). Like emotions, we may be aware or unaware of a particular attitude--or at least of the source behind it. Katz26 has determined that not only is the content of an attitude important (e.g., "working for social justice is the only worthwhile apostolate for me"), but important also is why that attitude is held, i.e., the function, known or unknown, which it plays in my life. Hence Katz demonstrates that attitudes (and values as well) may fulfill, among others, the following functions: an ego-d~fensive.function: I need to work with the poor and down-trodden to lift up my own sense of inferiority and feel good about myself. a utilitarian.function: Social justice is the stated concern of our hierarchy, and identifying with that will help me get a particular appointment I desire. Obviously, few of us can be that direct and honest about our motivations (although, with help, we could come to conclusions concerning our real intentions, and then be in a position to do something about it). Sadly enough, research27 shows that the more needy and conflictual we are a) the more we will act according to one of these aforementioned functions, and b) the more we will unconsciously protect ourselves from that knowledge, leading to a vicious circle which is not easily broken. Finally, we may espouse an attitude because of its value-expressive function: in spite of the discomforts and difficulties involved, ! think Jesus Christ is calling me to work directly with the poor without self-seeking or self-righteousness. Obviously even when struggling to maintain "a pure intention," motives get mixed, The difficulty lies in the situation where we are unaware of the mixture and, therefore, unable to choose otherwise; where we are so convinced that only the value-expressive function moves us that we never honestly look at other possibilities. A Deeper Look Into Compliance, Identification, Internalization To tie up this discussion of attitudes with our earlier considerations of the self from which these attitudes proceed, we must remember that in a structured self these tendencies towards the predominance of emotional over rational wanting (or vice versa) or towards the prevalence of ego-defensive or utilitarian functions of attitudes/values all form stable structures, enduring inner patterns which lead to -'nDaniel Katz. "The Functional Approach to the Study of Attitudes" in Readings in Attitude Theory and Measurement. Fishbein. ed. (NY: Wiley, 1967), pp. 457-468. aTRulla, Ridick and Imoda. 1976, pp. 77-80. From Tablet to Heart / 511 persistent behaviors that may or may not enhance the vowed following of Christ. Another psychic structure to which we have previously referred was the tendency to adapt new attitudes]values through compliance, identification or internaliza-tion. 2s It would seem advantageous to examine these tendencies more deeply. Kelman theoretically distinguishes them as follows: compliance is the predom-inant mode when we adopt a new attitude]value leading consciously or uncon-sciously to a particular behavior in order to gain a reward or avoid punishment, i.e., a satisfying or disappointing social effect on a significant other or others. We do not behave in that way or proclaim that value unless others are there to witness it. We do not believe in the content of the value or behavior for its own sake. In identification, we do believe in the value/behavior, but only because it is relevant in the context of a satisfying relationship to a person or a group. I identify with my friend Fr. X who believes in]does Y: or, 1 am happy to be a member of Group A which believes in and practices B. "Being a friend of," or "belonging to" is my chief source of satisfaction and self-esteem, not the belief or practice in itself. When X is no longer my friend, or no longer cares about Y: when my role as member of A is no longer attractive, or when A tells me that B ispassb, then 1 have no reason to continue believing in and living that value, and it will quietly be extinguished from my life. Finally, in internalization, we accept and live the value for its own sake, apart from punishment or reward, apart from roles or relationship. We believe in it and manifest it, whether it is popular or unpopular, "welcome or unwelcome" (2 Tm 4:1). I will serve God with all the faithfulness of which I am capable--not for the reward promised nor for the sake of the threats against those who are unfaithful--but for the pure love of him (Frances Cabrini, Pensieri e Propositi, p. 170). How clearly Cabrini rejected any lesser motivation than internalization, acting only for the pure love of God! We are called to do the same. In Katz's terms, the attitude/value is lived in a value-expressive way, and not in a utilitarian or ego-defensive fashion, as would be the case for compliance and identification. Rulta has made some important distinctions and additions to Kelman's theo-retical foundation. First of all, identification is really an ambivalent force, since it may lead us in time to an appreciation of the value in itself, apart from the relationship or role. Most of us began religious life identifying with the group or a particular person: only in time can it be seen if our initial identification leads forward to internalization of values, or remains bound up in non-internalizing identification. Secondly, external social influences are not the only factors at work in these three processes. There are also internal personal factors, especially those hidden in our latent selves, which dispose us to react to the environment in certain structured ways. Thirdly, true internalization for Rulla is not just a matter of any -'SHerbert Kelman. "Processes of Opinion Change," Public Opinion Quarterly (.Vol. 25, 1961). pp. 57-78. 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 value, no matter how fervently espoused, but of values which are objective and true. To achieve this, therefore, there must be a double consistency, my actual-self with my ideal-self, and my personal values with the objective values of Christ and the Church. In other words, 1 must have come sufficiently to know and accept my real self, so that I can then be attracted to, and be converted in reality to the values of Christ. Thus does affective maturity in Christ become possible: "knowing and accepting one's objective and free self-ideal and living it."~9 So far, we have proposed a number of problems and pitfalls that can occur when subjective attitudinal decisions meet the objective truth of our new constitu-tions. What can be done about this? In what direction must our attitudes change to effect the true internalization that we all seek? As it can be suspected, whatever tentative answers do exist are neither altogether new, nor will they provide an easy panacea. However. in the second part of this article 1 will try to provide a frame-work that may be useful in clarifying such a task. -"~Rulla, 1971, p. 182. The" Activ e-Co nte m pl a tiv e' Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Poverty and Incarnation John J. O'Donnell, S.J. Father O'Donnell is a Lecturer in Christian Doctrine at Heythrop College: 11-13 Cavendish Square: London WIM 0AN. A Jesuit friend once confessed that he could honestly say that he wanted to be chaste and obedient, but he could not honestly desire to be poor. This attitude probably reflects the attitude of many Christians. After the Second Vatican Coun-cil with its affirmation of secular values and its admission that building this world contributes to the growth of God's kingdom, many Christians desired to turn away from an other-worldly spirituality, symbolized dramatically by external practices of asceticism and poverty. Interestingly enough, however, even the few intervening years since Vatican II have revealed that the gospel does not allow such an easy settlement with the issue of poverty. From the opening descriptions of Jesus' humble origins in a tiny, utterly insignificant corner of the Roman empire, to his final moments on the cross, abandoned by his people, his disciples and even the God whom he called Abba, Jesus is indeed poor. No doubt some elements of the gospel story, such as the stable at Bethlehem, have been sentimentalized. But even a non-believer such as Ernst Bloch acknowledges that we cannot demythologize the poverty of the historical Jesus. He writes, "The stable, the carpenter's son, the fanatic among the humble people, the.gallows at the end, all this is the stuff of history, not the gold of fable." Furthermore, if the life of Jesus manifests such a restlessness for the kingdom that he is the man who has nowhere to lay his head, his preaching as well points to the poor man as the one who is in the right situation to grasp the message of God's kingdom. At the heart of the New Testament is the beatitude whose original form according to Scripture scholars is closer to the Lucan version: "Blessed are you poor." It is the literal poor who are in a position to grasp what Jesus is about. The 513 5"1~1 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 woes of Jesus upon the rich are full of pathos. Tragically the wealthy are in the wrong life-situation to grasp the good news of Jesus. The only hope for such people is to sell all that they have and give it to the poor. As St. Luke puts it, "Sell your possessions and give alms; provide yourselves with purses that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Lk 12:33-34). In pointing to the heart, St. Luke touches upon the ultimate danger of riches. The man who piles up material things becomes a slave to the mentality of having so that he is no longer free to be himself. He so identifies himself with what he has that he is no longer free to be open to receive God's gift. God can only give his kingdom to the man who is poor enough to want to receive. Therefore, St. Luke's attitude to material things is to get rid of them as encumbrances to that openness necessary for accepting the good news. The gospel attitude to poverty operates on two levels. There is no escaping the fact that Jesus recommends real poverty but real poverty is for the sake of spiritual poverty. The latter is the ultimate goal but we deceive ourselves if we think we can achieve the one without the other. Bonhoeffer, in meditating upon the story of the rich young man in the gospels, suggests the kind of rationalization which we are all prone to make: "Jesus may have said: 'Sell thy goods', but he meant 'Do not let it be a matter of consequence to you that you have outward prosperity: rather keep your goods quietly, having them as if you had them not. Let not your heart be in your goods.'" Bonhoeffer rightly comments that such rationalizations prevent us from submitting to that single-mip, ded obedience to the word of the Lord which he demands. If Jesus demands both real and spiritual poverty from his followers, he has himself first embodied both these dimensions of poverty in his own life. The actual poverty of the man who began life in the stable and ended it on the gallows points to the spiritual poverty of the man for others, the one who loses his life to find it, who loves his own to the end. The actual poverty of Jesus thus points to the deeper poverty of his entire being. As Son of the Father he has nothing of his own. It is literally his nature to receive his entire being from his heavenly Father. And all that he receives he passes on in turn to his disciples. "All that 1 have heard from my Father I have made known to you" (Jn 15:15). The deepest poverty of Jesus then is the poverty which he has at the heart of the Trinity, a poverty which reveals itself in the incarnation. Grasping and possess-ing are so alien to his being that even his equality with God is not something to be clung to. Rather, as Paul says, Jesus emptied himself taking the form of a servant. He divests himself even of the form of his divinity. Paul sees that there is a logic which binds incarnation and poverty together. For what the incarnation means is precisely this: "He who was rich, for our sake became poor" (2 Co 8:9). And as the apostle further perceived, the sharing of our humanity contains already within it the risk of our rejection and the shadow of the cross. What then does this poverty of Christ mean for us, men and women of the Poverty and Incarnation / 515 twentieth century, who desire to be his disciples? Fundamentally it would seem that we are required, as Paul says, to put on the mind of Christ. The heart of his mentality is, as the incarnation attests, the self-emptying love of the servant of others. Matthew no doubt grasped this .point accurately when he modified the first beatitude to read: "Blessed are the poor in spirit." But poverty of spirit without actual poverty would be a rationalization and compromise of the gospel. For there is no way around the stumbling block that the God of Jesus is a God who is a partisan of the poor, the defender of the widow and the orphan, the champion of the oppressed, the seeker of the lost. God has identified himself with the outcast and those on the margins of respectability. The irrevocable event of this identification is the cross of the Jesus who died con-demned as a blasphemer and a rebel. In this event it becomes transparently clear that power-seeking is utterly alien to the being of God. This is the stumbling block which shatters the illusion that we can create an identity by grasping and self-assertion. The gospel proclaims that the weakness of God is stronger than men. If a man is truly grasped by this gospel, he cannot do otherwise than divest himself of possessions, not because he despises material things but because he is as restless as Jesus for the kingdom. And knowing who God is he wants to identify himself where God has identified himself, with the poor and the oppressed. It is not just a question of helping others. It is a question of identification. The man who believes the gospel of Jesus about the kingdom, who believes the gospel about the cross literally finds God hidden under His contrary in the ongoing suffering of the world. And here is perhaps the greatest challenge facing the contemporary disciple. There was a time when the gospel could be preached and understood in more individualistic categories. The neighbor with whom Christ identified was the man next door, the poor and needy of the village, other members of my family. But today it is impossible to identify with my neighbor unless I think in global terms. Our planet has become so small and the network of relationships so intertwined that one inevitably bears a responsibility for the suffering of men and women everywhere in the world. In 1980 the Brandt commission reported such statistics as the following: the northern hemisphere including Eastern Europe has a quarter of the world's population and four-fifths of its income: the southern hemisphere including China has three billion people, three quarters of the world's population but living on one-fifth of the world's income. Eight hundred million people are estimated to be destitute in the Third World today. It is estimated that hundreds of millions die from lack of food or will have their physical development impaired. The consumption of energy per head in industrialized countries compared to middle-income or low-income countries is in proportion of 100:10:1. Total military expenditures are approaching $450 billion a year, of which over half is spent by the Soviet Union and the United States, while annual spending on official develop-ment aid is only $20 billion. One could argue that such statistics reveal an injustice of tragic proportions according to the norms of any humanistic ethics. But for a Christian it is more 516 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 than a question of justice. It is the logic of God's love which impels him. If God's being is self-emptying love, if his preferential love is for the poor and powerless, then the disciple who accepts this transvaluation of all ~?alues cannot help but be in deep pain as he is assaulted by the suffering cries of the millions of the poor of the earth. He cannot help but want to identify with them and their plight, for he sees God's face in them. The more deeply one penetrates the mystery of the God of Christian faith, the more one sees the intrinsic connection of the incarnation and the cross. For incarnation is God's identification with creatureliness, finitude, powerlessness. And the ultimate consequence of this identification is the powerlessness of God in the cross of Jesus. To accept Jesus and his Father implies our taking this same powerlessness upon ourselves and our identification with the powerless of the earth. Paradoxically the more one loves this world, the more one is led in love to divest oneself of this world's goods in order to identify more completely with the dispossessed. In our own time it would seem that an authentic Christian spiritual-ity will call not for less poverty but for more. Meditating upon the massive proportions of human suffering, we cannot help but feel compelled to pray not only for the spiritual poverty of self-emptying love but for the grace to identify with the fate of the actually poor as well. The Contemporary Spirituality Of the Monastic Lectio .by Matthias Neurnan, O.S.B. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Parables and Paradigms: Jesus' Journey and the Search for God Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem. Brother Wieczorek, a seminarian, has taught courses on prayer and mysticism in the Continuing Education Department at Cardinal Stritch College (Milwaukee) and the Ministry and Life Center at his abbey: he lectures at St. Norbert College (De Pete). He resides in St. Norbert Abbey: De Pere. WI 54115. Scripture is the saga of a long and mutual search. God encourages and empow-ers all people to "seek God, in the hope that they might feel after him and find him. Yet he is not far from each one of us, for 'in him we live and move and have our being.'" (Ac 18:27-28: all Scripture verses are from the RSV). At the same time as we search for God, he searches for us. So much the searcher is God, so great is his longing for us, that "though he was in the form of God, he did not deem equality with God a thing to be grasped, rather he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant" (Ph 2:6). God gives us an example of how to find him and be found by him in the life of the God-man, Jesus. Nowhere is the search in all its varied hues of meaning, or the spiritual life in all its mysterious rhythms, more clearly seen than in the life of Jesus, the Proto- Searcher. The life of Jesus is itself a parable and paradigm which describes the ebb and flow of the search for God in true fullness and balance. Some insight into the movements of the spiritual life can be gleaned from the following section of Mark's gospel. In those days Jesu~ came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And when hc came up out of the water, immediately he saw the heavens opencd and the Spirit dcsccnding upon him like a dove: and a voice came from heaven: "'You are my beloved son: with you I am well pleased." The Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. And he was in the wilderness forty days. tempted by Satan: and he was with the wild beasts: and the angels ministered to him. 517 5"11~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came into Galilee. preaching the gospel of God. and saying: "'The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand: repent and believe in the gospel." That evening at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered together about the door. And he healed many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons: and he would not allow the demons to speak, because they knew him. And in the morning, a great while before day, he rose and went out to ~ lonely place, and there he prayed. And Simon and those who were with him pursued him, and they found him and said to him: ~'E\'ery one is searching for you." And he said to them: "l,et us go on to the next town. that I may preach there also: for that is why I came out"(Mk 1:9-15, 32-38). At least three movements with regard to the spiritual life are visible from this text: the journey of the Father to the Son (Jesus' baptism): the journey of the Son to the Father (Jesus" flight into the wilderness): and the journey of the Father with the Son (Jesus' return to Galilee). The Journey of the Father to the Son In Jesus' baptism the Father reached out to touch his Son. It is always God who initiates the search. Our search is a response to a search on the part of God. We seek and find because we have first been sought and found. What drew Jesus on to the Jordan'? May it not be the same as what draws us on to search for God? For a few, the spiritual life begins with an overwhelming experience of God's presence, an experience powerful enough to sustain them for years of diligent and serious searching. St. Paul's experience of the Risen Christ may be one such example. Many of us, though, are like Augustine. We search out of a want, a need, a hunger for something we do not possess or perhaps even know. God oftentimes initiates the spiritual life with a gift of hunger and longing, with emptiness rather than fullness. We are led on by the reality of our own emptiness. We may not know what we want but we know what we don't have. God some-times initiates the search with an itch. There is a wisdom in this that is often overlooked. The emptiness in which we find ourselves contributes to a condition of desperateness. No one is more ripe or willing to attempt an unheard-of cure or course of action than one who is truly desperate. Only one who has been readied by emptiness, hunger, and longing can respond to the impossible call of following God. Sometimes that hunger can build for years. Or, it may suddenly poke into consciousness even in lives which, in the eyes of the world, should be quite content and satisfied. For example, more and more people feel drawn to religious life during their middle-years, or at least at an age later than had been the norm. Whether their decision to pursue a religious life was a sudden thing or the result of many years of discernment, their choice to abandon one way of life and follow another is a response to a summons that is as persistent as it is intangible. Perhaps it is no accident that Jesus was well into adulthood when he was Parables and Paradigms / 5"19 .baptized. Maybe Jesus had tried to put off his call? Maybe Jesus was drawn to the Jordan by a hunger he had always had but which the Scribes and Pharisees could not satisfy? Jesus' baptism was itself the result of a search: it was the culmination of a decision to believe. Jesus' baptism was a surrender to the Father which involved the acceptance of a call and the attempt at a response. Therefore, Jesus' baptism was the beginning of another search to understand what the Father wanted of him. For Jesus, as for us, the completion of one search--the decision to believe--led to the commencement of another: what form of response is our belief to take? The Journey of the Son into the Father How strongly it is put in Mark's gospel, "The Spirit immediately drove him into the wilderness." Yet, it is not hard to imagine being so overwhelmed by an experience. There have been times in each of our lives when we felt swept away by the devotion of a friend, by an act of love, by a singular twist of fate. Overwhelm-ing experiences often leave us puzzled or speechless as well as joyous and grateful. Afterwards, we feel the need to wander off for a bit, to be alone to consider what really happened and ponder the reasons and implications for our lives. Jesus was overwhelmed at his baptism. The Spirit that drove him into the wilderness was bestowed through the power of God's presence, a presence that possessed him and forced him to try to understand more fully what had happened. The flight of Jesus into the desert can be seen as his search to understand the experience of his baptism. Our response to any situation is mediated by our understanding of what took place. To understand something, though, is not primarily to know about it objec-tively. To understand means to enter into another reality. Understanding does not refer to the ability to master the secret of some mystery. Rather, to truly under-stand someone or something, it is necessary to surrender oneself to it. to pass into it, to participate in it from the inside. When Jesus went into the wilderness he sought the time and space to under-stand the reality of what had happened at the Jordan, to enter into it, to submit himself to it. By leaving his former life behind and going out into the wilderness, Jesus was saying "yes" (2 Co I: 19) to the possibility of entering into a new life. His quest for understanding involved his submission to faith, his entrance into faith, and his participation in the presence and activity .of the Father. The understanding Jesus attained was the understandiffg available only to those who know through loving. Through the bond of love people can know not only what others are thinking but also what is in their hearts. It is by loving that we enter into the life of another, that we can acquire "inside" understanding. Such understanding cannot be earned or purchased: it is the free gift of one person's self-revelation to another. The knowing that comes from loving comes from open-ing up and sharing the heart of another. At Jesus' baptism, the Father opened up his heart to the Son. Jesus' wilderness journey was a searching through the Father's heart. Such a journey can only be made if the giving and revealing are mutual. Therefore, Jesus had to open his heart to the Father. However, by doing 520 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 so he opened it to himself as well. We cannot know God and participate in his life if we remain strangers to ourselves. Understanding comes by loving, and loving is a mutual and freely given gift. If we want to know God and search through his heart we must be willing for the same thing to be done to us. But God will not enter where he is not welcomed. We must guide God through our own hearts, even though they are foreign and frightening. In making a commitment to know God, we make a commitment to know ourselves. The search for God will bring us face to face with reality, with the truth about ourselves. When he shows us himself, God also discloses the truth about ourselves. We cannot hide from one without hiding from the other. We cannot know the one without knowing the other. The wild beasts among whom Jesus lived (Mk 1:13) were not all external creatures. Jesus would have also lived with all the urgings and desires of himself. Luke's gospel brings out some of this in his temptation account (4: I- 13). Jesus had to accept even the beasts within him and we are called to do the same. To spend time alone with God means spending time alone with ourselves in the haunts and wilds of our own hearts. There can be no conversion if we do not first know the truth about ourselves, both our strengths and weaknesses. The Journey of the Father with the Son In the third movement of his spiritual life, the tide which drew Jesus into the wilderness now leads him back. It .is important to see Jesus' return to the people of Galilee not as a separate mission but as a continuation of the one search that led him into the wilderness. The spiritual life as lived by Jesus is not an individual venture, not merely a way of achieving personal self-fulfillment. It is, rather, a way of responsible involve-ment in the lives of others, a life of compassion and service. The temptation we face is to view the spiritual life as a "me and Jesus"enterprise which lifts us beyond the troubles of life. To live as Jesus lived, however, is to live in the service of the whole human family. We characterize the spiritual life as one of serene detachment, blissful tran-scendence from the everyday world. This is not Jesus" spirituality. He did not leave the wilderness to complete his search in even greater isolation. He returned to Galilee because only there could he fully live the search. Only by participating in the life of the world could he enter fully into the life of God. Jesus' search drew him into deeper participation in the love of the Father. God is not a God who remains untroubled by the plight of his people. He is not an indifferent God. Throughout the Old Testament, God continually acts within the realm of history to redeem Israel by empowering people to meet the challenges of the times. The God of Jesus is the God who raised up Moses to lead his people out of slavery. God took Moses out of the solitary life of shepherding and thrust him into the very heart of the social and political arena of his day--even though Moses claimed he Parables and Paradigms / 521 was not equal to the task. The same was true for the Judges who led the people out of the threat of military conquest. God also empowered the prophets to speak on his behalf, taking, in the case of Amos, a vine dresser and making of him a missioner who confronted the social and religious injustice of the northern kingdom. We misunderstand the spiritual life if we sit back and wait until our spiritual lives are all in order before we enter the world of human needs. God takes the weak and makes them strong (I Co 1:27). He begins our transformation in the crucible of solitude but, for most of us, completes it in the arena of apostolic involvement. It was after John had been arrested that Jesus returned to Galilee. To be sure, Jesus considered John a prophet. Did Jesus feel called to "take up the torch" carried by John'? The search of Jesus led him into the responsibility of loving, as the Father loves. The return of Jesus to Galilee was response of love, not only toward the Father, but to all those whom the Father loved. Notice that Jesus came to Galilee, to the home of the outcast and oppressed, to empower the little people, to assure them they had not been forgotten by the Father. Jesus preached with both word and deed. He spoke and acted out of the Father's love. He proclaimed the fullness of time, the passing of the old age, the coming of the kingdom. He taught the necessity of conversion, of turning our lives around to face God (Jr 7:24). He proclaimed a kingdom where faith replaces distrust, love replaces the equity of finance, and understanding replaces judgment. To follow in Jesus' way, we are meant to be heralds and healers, echoing the Word with the quality of our lives. The healing Jesus brought answered a need that went much deeper than bodily illness. The town that gathered about his door (Mk 1:33) sought someone to heal them of doubt; he gave them someone to believe in. They needed to be healed of confusion: he gave them understanding. They needed to be healed from prejudice: he gave them love. They needed to be healed of their aimlessness: he gave them a way to follow. He healed them and so made them ready to undertake his own search. He restored their sight that they might see the way. He gave strength to their limbs to ready them for the march. He expelled the demons which bound them in fear to an age out of which they were afraid to pass. It must have been quite a switch from the solitude of the wilderness for Jesus to have found himself surrounded by demanding people. Yet, despite that switch, Jesus' ministry was a continuation of his interior search to follow the Father. He had .journeyed far down the road of faith during that day of preaching and healing. It is no surprise that Mark describes Jesus going out to a lonely place and praying (Mk 1:35). He had come a long way in a short time: from carpenter to hermit to preacher and healer. What went on within his heart? Had Jesus left the wilderness expecting to be a local prophet like John'? Had the need of the crowd spoken to Jesus of a new sense of ministry? God acted upon Jesus no less in his ministry than in the solitude. The scene may have changed but the voice still called. But what did it say? How had the new 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 forum altered the message? One step leads to another but where does the path lead? Where does the journey end? What is the price we must pay for following a whisper? Did these questions plague Jesus as they do those who follow him? For whatever reason, Jesus sought out the wilderness to again comprehend what had happened. He needed time to pray and reflect and understand where the Spirit had taken him and where he was to go. Blazing a trail is a much different matter than simply following one. We too need to withdraw from time to time to ponder the advents of the Lord in our lives. How has he spoken? What did he say? The voice is rarely so clear as to leave us certain. God speaks through daily events, but what does he say? Moreover, the hectic pace of life can cloud our sense of vision and distort our perception of the call. Living leaves us tired and numb. So many other issues seem more pressing than our private prayer. Amid the myriad tragedies of life, the pointless suffering and rampant injustices, how can we continue to thank and praise God? Life points more to the absence of God than to his presence. All this points to the necessity of continuing the search in the solitude of our hearts. The spiritual life is a relationship and no relationship is maintenance free. We need time for prayer and reflection if our spiritual life is to continue growing. It is no secret what happens in a marriage when the lines of communication falter and break down. Yet the time for prayer and solitude with the Lord is not simply a time to be "recharged," as though the Spirit were but a battery which served as a power source for our personal ministry. Our time alone is more than a time to be recharged; it is a time to grow in relationship with God, to share with him person to person. We withdraw for solitude out of the longing of lover for beloved. Jesus' solitude was interrupted by Simon's statement: "Everyone is searching for you." This was a time of decision for Jesus. He could stay where he was and let the people flock to him. Yet, this was not enough, he could not wait for them to find him. "Let us go out into the next town, that I may preach there also: for that is why ! came out" (Mk 1:38). A moment of insight, perhaps, when Jesus understood why he had left the serenity of his solitude with the Father and undertaken to come out and serve the people? He had left the wilderness not only to be found but to seek out and find a people who had become lost and scattered. Jesus, the Searcher- God, saw his mission as a search for the very people who sought him. He would not remain in one place as though he were the end of the search--he was the Way, the proto-type of searching. Those who followed him would be led by his light and come into the truth. He would tell them the way to go and show them the way to follow. The Son would become the shepherd, leading the Father's flocks back into their own pasture

Issue 40.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1981. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1981 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscriplion orders or change of address, write: REVIFW I:OU RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Jeremiah L. Alberg, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1981 Volume 40 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW RELtGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVII-:w for RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. The Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in- Action David J. Hassel, S.J. Father Hassel's earlier article, "The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery," appeared in the November, 1980 issue. The present article is also a chapter from his projected book on prayer. Father's address is: Jesuit Community; Loyola University; 6525 N. Sheridan Rd.; Chicago, IL 60626. To contemplate is to see a thing or an event or a person as a whole. It is to grasp the totality of a situation and then to let wonder rise, deep fears and hopes surface, the fire of ambition be kindled, and the still-point of one's being touched. Thus contemplation not only views wholeness but also begins to instill it in the contemplator, an experience much needed in our fragmenting times. Persons lacking commitment to focus their energies, families lacking the love to heal their wounds, and nations lacking noble purpose to render them united--all need contemplation as much as the thirsty and starving need drink and food.' Now the power of contemplation appears in theaction which it structures and directs. Thus contemplation-in-action not only carries appreciation for the whole of a situation and thus renders the contemplator more wholesome but also enters into the very situation contemplated to make it more wholesome. For this reason, the more active a person is and the more deeply he or she interacts with others, the more important becomes contemplation for this person's every action. Indeed, the more explicitly tThis thirst and hunger for the meaning and wholeness of life is eloquently and poignantly record-ed in Studs Terkel's interviews with people from all walks of life. His contemplative book, Work-ing (Avon, New York, 1975, pp. xiii-xv) discovers "the happy few who find a savor in their daily job," and the many whose discontent is hardly concealed: 321 322 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 aware we become of contemplation-in-action within our experience, the better we can promote it in ourselves and in others for the healing of our wounded world. But, as always, difficulties arise which keep us from recognizing contem-plation- in-action and from living it more deeply within our experience. First of all, one can observe with envy the high intensity of secular contemplation in the action of artist or business person and can then expect this same intensity to occur within one's own religious contemplation-in-action. False expecta-tions always result in discouragement. Secondly, because monastic people do much of the writing about contemplation, one can mistake monastic contemplation for the apostolic type more characteristic of lay people, diocesan clergy, and active religious orders. Again, confusion here can dissipate religious energies. A third problem connected with recognizing contemplation-in-action is that the latter is an awareness permeating all one's activities. Therefore, it cannot be exposed by merely lifting off one or other layer of experience, nor be isolated by tracing its roots in one particular activity. Consequently--and this is the fourth difficulty--contemplation-in-action will express itself in a great variety of modes as it appears at diverse levels of experience and in different activities, even though it may be a single pervasive attitude. As a result, a person may be lamenting his or her failure at contemplation-in-action while unknowingly practicing it with some success. Perhaps the following exploration2 of these four problems may yield some inkling of what contemplation-in-action is and some recognition of how the contemplative-in-action feels. This, in turn, could be the source of new satisfaction in one's life, perhaps even the beginning of a certain settled happiness. Religious Contemplation-in-Action Out of the Secular The first problem facing us is the confusion of secular with religious contemplation-in-action--an understandable mistake since the first naturally leads into the second. Like all forms of contemplation-in-action, the secular variety discovers and promotes remarkable wholeness in the contemplator and in the object contemplated. For example, the portrait-artist, while center-ing her consciousness intensely upon the child to be painted, tends to fall in love with the latter as feeling and insight blend gradually into the beautiful whole of the portrait and of the person portrayed. The craftsman, too, is fascinated as the pitcher, shaping under his hands at the potter's wheel, is lifted out of the clay in a blend of graceful shape with smooth pouring. The 2I am greatly indebted to Vincent Towers, S.J., James Maguire, S.J. and Donald Abel, S.J. for their detailed comments on the rough drafts of this article, to Mrs. Mary Ellen Hayes for advice and technical assistance, to Dr. Julia Lane for expert encouragement, to the Warrenville (!11.) Cenacle community for their helpful.suggestions. Contemplation-in-Action / ~2~ novelist also shares in this disciplined joy of secular contemplation-in-action. Saul Bellow could not have given us Herzog, nor J. D. Salinger presented us with Holden Caulfield of The Catcher in the Rye, unless each had gone through a period of 'possessed aloofness' while in his imagination he watched and chronicled the full-bodied development of Herzog or Holden out of a vast variety of detailed activities. In the artist or craftsman or novelist, then, one witnesses the power of secular contemplation-in-action for producing that beautiful whole which delights the artist's own heart and the hearts of all beholders. But such contemplation-in-action is not limited to the sphere of the arts. Watch parents playing with their firstborn child and note their total concen-tration on eliciting new responses from it. As the child slowly unfolds before their eyes during its first twenty-four months, they become ever more dedicated to educating it to beautiful soundness of body, mind, and emotions. If this is not contemplation-in-action, what is? In a similar way, the neurosurgeon, carefully and even exultantly applying his previous week's study of X rays, medical research, and techniques to a brain operation, also experiences this contemplation-in-action as he restores wholesome life to his patient. So, too, the lawyer contemplates-in-action when she manages to see her way through the myriad details of a personal injury suit towards those underlying legal principles which will structure for her a forceful, tight case on behalf of her client, Nor is the business person without contemplation-in-action when intense ambition is painting a new vision and directing precise lines of energy to effect this vision. The resultant business organization is a daring orchestration of people and processes brought to total life for the wholesome delight of the business person's mind and heart and for the good of the community. Evidently, then, secular contemplation-in-action operates within any work, artistic or scientific, speculative or practical, to produce wholesomeness in both the contemplator and the action-situation. Explicitly, each of us has, in some way, experienced these types of secular contemplation-in-action and implicitly we compare their qualities with those of our own religious contemplation-in-action--to the depreciation of the lat-ter. Each of us asks in guilt: "Where in my religious contemplation-in-action is the intense centering, the fascinated.vision, the possessed aloofness, the total concentration and dedication, the exultant application to life, the deep satisfaction in wholeness, and the intense ambition of secular contemplatives-in- action?" Why should not the religious contemplative-in-action be \ discouraged--especially if he equates secular and religious contemplation-in-action and does not know that they are meant to nourish each other reciprocally and precisely out of their difference. To understand their respec-tive differences, let us consider how they cooperate. Religious contemplation-in-action completes the secular. For the wholes of self and of object discovered by secular contemplation-in-action take on fuller meaning and larger value witfiinthe more comprehensive wholes of the 324 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 everyday world and of God as these are found by religious contemplation-in-action. A dynamic reciprocity operates here between the two types of contemplation-in-action. As the secular contemplative-in-action (artist, business person, parent, neurosurgeon, or lawyer) enters more deeply into the object to find its wholeness, he becomes more aware of his personal wholeness since the intense concentration on the object demands full awareness of his powers. But such total awareness of object and of self eventually leads into fuller awareness of the everyday world since the secular contemplative must fit himself and the object contemplated into the larger world of, e.g., serving a client, supporting a family, relaxing socially with friends; wondering about the worth of the object produced by the secular contemplation-in-action. Eventually every secular contemplative-in-action has to ask those terrible questions: "How do I and my work fit into the ongoing world? Why should I continue to ply my art, trade, profession, parenthood? Where am I, my family, and my work heading finally?" Such questioning usually leads to the more religious questions: "Is there anything more than this total world? Is there someone or something permeating this world and leading it to a higher destiny, a fuller life? Can I contact this mysterious one or am I already doing so?" When such questions finally lead into the experience of a meaningful world and of a transcendent God, then religious contemplation-in-action has evolved out of the secular and now redounds to the enrichment of the latter. To see how this is possible, note what happens when a family friend at-tempts to heal a family quarrel. He listens intently as the various family members describe the events leading up to the quarrel. The friend tries to piece together (to do a secular contemplation of) this setting and the quarrel. Once he feels that he knows the whole scene, he endeavors to help each family member see this whole so that each can experience some healing-into-wholeness as each admits his or her own faults, the good points of other fami-ly members, the need to forgive each other, and the necessity of planning together for a better family future. This secular contemplation starts to become contemplation-in-action when each family member begins to act out of this vision. Such secular contemplation-in-action begins to move into its religious counterpart when each family member finds a reason to act beyond himself or herself for unified family action, e.g., the preservation of the fami-ly tradition or the hope for future family members. Later, this religious contemplation-in-action attains fullness when individually the family members think of themselves and act as Christians carrying Christ's presence within the family, and when socially this same family as a group does healing actions which image the future Great Community of the Great Tomorrow beyond the grave. But factually, this neat cooperation between secular and religious contemplation-in-action often breaks down. There is a tendency in each human to abort secular contemplation-in-action before it can rise into the religious. St. Augustine describes vividly how this happens when a person at- Contemplation-in-Action / 325 tempts .to control the world, his fellow human beings and himself apart from or in conflict with God's law and providence. In this case the secular con-templative so concentrates on another person or a business project or a grand scheme as to lose sight of the more comprehensive wholes of community-justice and of God's people. Here secular contemplation becomes divorced from religious. The result is that the secular contemplative becomes hypnotiz-ed by the object of contemplation (nothing else is of equal value), then abject-ly slavish to the latter (the object becomes the only hope), then frantically con-servative of this object (e.g., a beloved, a job, an ambition or fond hope, a favorite pastime like gambling or fishing, a power over others). Because all the person's efforts are so fiercely focused on saving his project, he tends to dissipate mind, heart, and imagination. Thus, in an ironic way, the con-templating person literally fragments himself in efforts to mold his private world into a lasting wholesomeness which fits his own self-image and peculiar needs, but which fails to fit the true wholeness of the world and the Transcen-dent One. As a result, even a person's secular contemplation-in-action tends to disintegrate when its religious completion is aborted. To put this positively, religious contemplation-in-action is a contempla-tion whose resultant activities aim to render man more wholesome within the wholing of the world as the latter develops within the dynamic whole of the Transcendent God. The vision of Teilhard de Chardin which sees the universe converging towards the transcendent Omega Point is one illustration of religious contemplation-in-action. The exuberance of such religious contemplation-in-action once achieved can then redound upon its secular counterpart to render the latter passionate for truth and eager for beautiful action within its peculiar sphere of influence. F~'om all this it should be clear that secular and religious contemplation-in- action are distinct and mutually modifying phases in the contemplative person's wholesome life.3 To confuse one with the other is, then, to neglect one for the other and even to risk diminishing both since they are so naturally interdependent. But even within.religious contemplation-in-action, there is a further clarification to be made. Its monastic variety is different from the apostolic, even though, again, both types are needed to stimulate and to enrich the life of God's people. Here, too, confusion of one with the other debilitates life. Within Religious Contemplation-in-Action, the Monastic and the Apostolic Differ Discouragement is just as apt to arise from confusing the apostolic and the 3Karl Rahner shows the intimate connection between secular and religious contemplation when he demonstrates that supernaturally elevated transcendentality (i.e., God's self-communication in grace) is mediated by any and every categorical reality, (i.e., by the world). For the Christian, there is no separate sacral realm where alone God is to be found (Foundations of Christian Faith, translated by William V. Dych, Seabury Press, New. York, 1978, pp. 151-152). 326 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 monastic within religious c0ntemplation-in-action as it is from equating secular and religious contemplation-in-action. For, to seek continually the qualities of one in the other is to be permanently misled and disappointed. Although all forms of secular contemplation seek for wholesomeness in con-templator and in object contemplated, nevertheless as many types of secular contemplation occur as there are types of contemplators, e.g., artist, lawyer, neurosurgeon, philosopher, business person, parent, novelist and so on. It should be no great surprise, then, that the monastic religious contemplation-in- action of the Poor Clare or the Carthusian will be different from its apostolic counterpart in the life of lay person or diocesan priest or apostolic religious. In monastic contemplation the monk or nun searches deeply, within the roots of his or her innermost being, for personal wholeness and for the mysterious wholesomeness of God's life within this being. Now such a demand-ing search becomes possible only if the person withdraws from the more active concerns of life in the everyday world of the apostle. In his Contemplative Prayer, Thomas Merton makes it clear that the monk must devote himself in a special way to renunciation, repentance, and prayer if he is to sound the depths of his being for God.' In monastic religious contemplation-in-action, the quiet sinking into self to find God requires a strict control of attention as one undergoes the rigors of hard manual labor, very close community living, sometimes deafening silence, and occasionally piercing loneliness. Thus the relief from cultural pressures which enables monastic religious contemplation-in-action to occur is hardly an escape from suffering the harsh demands of love and of the daily labor for survival. But it is a religious contemplation-in-action diverse from that of the apostle in the world of art, business, medicine, education, and family. Unfortunately, much less is writteri about apostolic religious contemplation-in-action than about the monastic varietywespecially from the view of the layperson.~ Because the apostolic contemplative is ordinarily working in a professional position or a ,trade or a skill-job (secretary, housewife, telephone linesman, and so on) and is frequently involved in team-work, he or she must give much attention to the daily concerns of the world--the very concerns from which the monastic contemplative explicitly withdraws. Ttfis apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is more depend-ent on secular contemplation-in-action for its dynamism because apostolic contemplatives are intently pursuing professional jobs, trades, and skills through eight to ten hours per day. As a result, the apostolic contemplative is more concerned with outer wholeness of self and world, whereas the monastic 'Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer (Doubleday-Image, Garden City, N.Y., 1971 pp. 19-20). ~Thomas Vernor Moore's Life of Man with God, (Harcourt Brace~ New York, 1956), though quaint, contains case histories of ordinary people enjoying strong contemplation in action. Contemplation-in-Action / 397 contemplative concentrates more on the inner wholeness. Evidently both types of concern are needed by the civic and ecclesial communities since they complement each other. The outer beauty of technological, scientific, and cultural wholeness must be appreciated and promoted if the inner beauty of man's ultimate meaning and destiny is to exist and to be known in depth. On the other hand, the inner beauty of such wholeness makes possible all the outer beauty since the loss of ultimate meaning and destiny in human activities renders technology, science and culture vacuous: if not vicious. Nor is the withdrawal of the mohastic contemplative to be considered unique to this type of contemplation. The apostolic contemplative must prac-tice a somewhat similar asceticism if he or she is to be a first-rank artist, lawyer, neurosurgeon, teacher, sports star, philosopher, business person, or parent. In order to focus intensely upon the contemplated object, such contemplators must withdraw steadily from distractions, occasionally from family life, often from comforts, not rarely from the spotlight of flattering attention. Though the person dedicated to apostolic religious contemplation-in-action may be immersed in the concerns of the world, still he or she must learn to live hidden within the teamwork of the institution and to withdraw from disruptive self-seeking of fame, fortune, and fun. Such withdrawal is essential if the contemplator is to discover better the wholeness of object, self, world, and God. For the aim of every contemplative is to become more whole in order better to see, in all their wholesomeness, other people, the tasks at hand, professional teamwork, family health, national purpose, ecclesial community and God himself. For this reason, the withdrawal should make one more attentive and appreciative of other people, of one's business, of art and music, of wholesome sanctity (a redundant phrase), of professional skill, of science and technology, and of oneself. Such wholesomeness, when appreciated, gives deep intellectual joy and is the fullest reward for disciplined suffering. Consequently, the various types of contemplation-in-action must be carefully distinguished so that each can be pursued with finesse. But since contemplation-in-action has so many ways of expressing itself according to each one's peculiar gifts, situations, aims, and tradition, it is no easy task to discover one's own way of contemplating-in-action. Since each type of con-templation aims at wholeness of object contemplated and of person con-templating, a major error here could fragment the contemplator's personality and induce shoddy activity within his or her specialized secular contemplation-in-action. With this caution in mind, one delves hesitantly within his experience for the feel of apostolic contemplation-in-action, especially since this experience runs so deeply and so uniquely. Towards the Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Because apostolic contemplation-in-action is present deep within many actions of the secular contemplative, it can be approached only gradually 328 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 through four steps. The first step consists in answering a series of questions constructed to bring into better focus the secret unity of one's everyday ex-perience. Later, in a second step, reflection on the various levels of this every-day experience helps us to recognize at what level apostolic contemplation-in-action originates. The third step is to work out an explicit definition of such contemplation according to these levels. Here, in a fourth step, one can finally note the feel of contemplation-in-action as it happens within various levels and modes of experience. But let us now take the first of these four steps by leisurely answering for ourselves the following questions: I. Why do I usually get up on time in the morning and not let people wait? 2. Why do I bother to cook breakfast for others and not just for myself? 3. Why do I share my car with others and, on occasional rainy mornings, leave early to get them to work on time? 4. Why, at the job, do I help out on someone else's project when mine is not finished yet? 5. Why should I avoid the second beer at lunch because it makes me loggy at work? Who really cares about my efficiency? 6. Why scrimp and save for others--esp~ecially if they are likely to squander the savings? 7. Why take work and worries home from the~ job? Why bother studying at night to complete degree work or to be more competent in my next day's work? 8. Why keep up correspondence with friends or answer the third telephone call when I'm so tired at night? 9. Why be the one who usually corrects the children and who gets their resentment? 10. Why sometimes spend money meant for entertainment on the needs of others? 11. Why squeeze into the already packed day the Eucharist and another fifteen or more minutes of prayer? In other words, all these why's add up to a single last question: Why do we stretch ourselves out for others hour after hour, day after day, month after month, year after year? Could the answer be that, amid all our sneaky ways, our clever vanities, our downright sins, and our cute manipulation of others to our own desires, we nevertheless do have a strong practical concern for peo-ple, for their welfare and happiness? Could it even be that, deep within, we each feel God quietly encouraging us to stretch our lives out to others? Could it be that, deep within, we want to delight the heart of God? If so, then this is what is called "the stretch," the almost constant doing.of the more difficult out of respect for others and for God. It is, in other words, the willingness to bleed slowly for loved ones and even, at times, for mere acquaintances. This "stretch," then, turns out to be a dynamic unity running through all the day's events to give them meaning and direction. Could it be that this is our seeking Contemplation-in-Action / 329 for God, our God-hunger? Is this our restlessness with anything less than God--a restlessness which renders us mystified at the self-serving actions of the trifler, the super-ambitious, and the bun vivant? Indeed, is this "stretch" or God-hunger the apostolic contemplation-in-action for which we are searching? It would seem not. For such contemplation lies underneath "the stretch" to make it happen. We must yet distinguish various levels of experience and then move underneath each to find the deepest level from where apostolic contemplation-in-action originates. And we find that there are four levels of experience to distinguish. The first or sur-face level is where minor irritations, like the sound of loud rock-and-roll music or the itch of eczema or the sudden hiccup occurs and where minor joys like a satisfying meal or a long sleep or a relaxed laugh, happen. Underneath this surface level, lies the second or physical level where the pains of ulcers or neuralgia lurk and the joys of exuberant good health or of strong sexual pleasure energize one. Underneath these two levels is the third or psychological level where one trembles with fear of failure in one's work or shrinks at seeing the beloved suffer, and where one also is Warmed with the security of being .loved deeply and faithfully by an admired person, or experiences the deep satisfaction of witnessing one's children growing up well. Underneath these three explicitly conscious levels which we all can recognize lies a more hidden fourth level known only implicitly, i.e., by con-trast with the top three levels. Thus a person can feel great joy and serenity at this fourth level, while at the upper three levels he feels terrible suffering and apparent fragmentation. Or the reverse may be the case. "Everything is going my way in health, job-~atisfaction, family life; I've got everything--except that I feel uneasy and deeply restless underneath all of this." In both in-stances, the person feels almost schizophrenic--so clear is the distinction be-tween the top three levels and the deepest fourth level of experience, so direct-ly reverse is the flow of events between the top-three and the fourth levels. Puzzling as this experience is, it is also a revelation of the fourth level where the root of contemplation-in-action lies and it will eventually lead us to the "feel" of apostolic contemplation-in action.6 Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Is a Heart-Awareness of God and His People To state matters bluntly, apostolic contemplation-in-action is not "the stretch," the disciplined reaching out to others and to God from the third level of experience. It is not the constant calling to mind of God's presence, nor 61 have given a fuller description of these four levels of experience in "The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery," (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VOI. 39, 1980/6. pp. 808-810, 817-819). Confer also "Phenomenology, Psychiatry, and Ignatian Discernment" (The Way, Supplement #6, May, 1968, pp. 27-34) by Felix Letemendia and George Croft for a similar description of four levels of experience. 330 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 constant explicit aspirations, not the "Jesus prayer," nor one's favorite scrip-tural mantra on the second level of experience. It is not constant conversation with God on the second and first levels.7 Apostolic contemplation-in-action may cause these behaviors, but it is not any one or all of them. Rather, it is more like a heart-awareness of God, an affectionate and deep alertness to God in all events, a strong and warm conviction of God's loving presence at the fourth level underlying and yet permeating all life's experiences and hap-penings. 8 This heart-awareness seems to be always operative, like the buoyancy of a cork under water, always unobtrusive, like quiet background music in office or dining room, always implicit, like a mother's awareness of noisy children in the backyard while she is concentrating on a new cake recipe; always pulsing, like the tennis player's awareness of the beloved watching his match from the grandstands; always underlying, like the companionship between two friends whose attention is riveted on an engrossing motion picture; always growing osmotically, like the friendship between two people sitting in the front seat of a car and silently viewing the. countryside during a long trip. This heart-awareness appears not in the least to interfere with conversation or with algebra-solving or with. business-planning or with party-laughing or with landscape-painting or with surgical operating. Indeed, it can be said that this heart-awareness is actually a person's awareness of God's awareness of him while he works through the events of the day--much as when the lover tennis-star is implicitly aware of his beloved's awareness of him as she sits in the grandstand watching his play.9 This heart-awareness is like the alertness of the saints to God's providence in small happenings. God, like the air, is embracing the saints, enabling them to breathe, acting as the medium for all the surrounding events. In such an at-mosphere, nothing is insignificant. There is a second way in which this heart-awareness of God, called apostolic contemplation-in-action, can be described. It seems to be also a per- 'In reading Henri J. M. Nouwen's books and articles on spirituality, I have rarely felt anything but strong agreement--except for one article: "Unceasing Prayer" (America, Vol. 139/3, July 29--August 5, 1978, pp. 46-51), where Nouwen declares: "We convert our unceasing thinking in-to unceasing prayer when we move from a self-centered monologue to a God-centered di;~logue (p. 48)." Though he characterizes this prayer as contemplation, as attentive looking at God, and as presence to God, still the heavy emphasis on thinking and imagining in the article could lead the reader to a false mentalistic perception of praying always. 8In Love Alone (Herder and Herder, New York, 1969, p. 89), Hans Urs Von Balthasar compares the unceasing prayer of heart-awareness to the "the way a man is always and everywhere influenc-ed by the image of the woman he loves." 9 John S. Dunne (The Reasons of the Heart, Macmillan, New York, 1978, pp. 46-54) gives an acute description of this heart-awareness of God wherein one feels known and loved deeply by God. He puts it in Meister Eckhart's terms: this is a laughing between God and man which images the Trinitarian life of mutual joy between and in the three persons. Contemplation-in-Action / 331 son's awareness of God present within him and working out through him into the lives of others. It would explain somewhat Paul the Apostle's remark: "I live now, not I, but Christ lives in me." In this implicit heart-awareness there is even a sense of acting beyond one's capacities, or of being borne along to meet events for which one feels strangely prepared beforehand. This does not imply that such experience is without suffering. On the contrary, the heart-awareness has the tendency to make one more sensitive to the suffering of others and of one's self and even more ready to assume sorrow. For, remarkably, this heart-awareness opens one up not only to God but also simultaneously to God's people and his world. It would seem to contain a readiness for friendship, and for the obligations consequent upon friendship. It is not a state achieved by spiritual gymnastics, by much reading on the meaning of life, by the use of diaries, by experimental prayer-sessions, by con-stant aspirations, and God-conversation, or by psychological dynamics. Rather, it seems to arise within the disciplined service of others out of love. In other words, "the stretch" seems to set up the conditions in which this heart-awareness, this apostolic contemplation-in-action, occurs. The latter would seem, then, to he a natural development in a healthy life of service to God and his people. It appears to be an availability to others which is adaptive~to their needs, hopes, joys and sorrows and which consequently takes on emotional coloring and religious content by way of this adaptation. For this reason, it would seem that apostolic contemplation-in-action is not an esoteric gift but one which is given to many good people by a God eager to promote such heart-awareness of himself and of his people. After all, such awareness would seem to include a penchant for fulfilling the two Great Com-mandments under a vast array of different circumstances and, therefore, under many diverse modes of action. It is time, then, that we considered some of these modes. In this way we can experientially both test the understanding and get the feel of apostolic contemplation-in-action. Various Modes in Which Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Is Felt Apostolic religious contemplation-in-action as heart-awareness of God is, then, a deep good will towards God, a warm desire for God, a loving remembering of him in his people and his universe. This single basic convic-tion naturally expresses itself in a thousand different ways according to the thousand diverse activities of the apostolic contemplative. Among these thou-sand ways are the following eleven (if you can recognize them in your ex-perience, then you have, I would ~hink, the "feel" of apostolic contempla-tion- in-action): 1. Hope: a pervading sense of the worthwhileness of one's present life and work for the future; a certain fearlessness in facing radical changes within one's community amid the sudden turnings of history. "Why is everyone so depressed?" 2. Patience: St. Paul's hypornone, the strength to stand underneath and to 339 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 hold everything together when all seems to be coming apart and others are deserting the supposedly sinking enterprise; a kind of dilapidated, yet dedicated, serenity amid much suffering and uncertainty. An ~'old-shoe" type says: "What's the big ~panic about?" 3. Need to be Hidden in teamwork: a wanting to contribute one's best quiet-ly; and yet, in times of stress, a boldness to take on the tough job of leadership. "Tell me what you want done--and if you can't tell me, I'll tell you." 4. Passive Alertness to Others: a willingness to wait, to listen, to hear out a person or a situation; a deep respect for the individuality of others; a refusal to domineer in conversation-work-dispute; no demand for a return on love given--because of trust in the other and in God. "I've got time to listen. Relax." 5. A Senseof Being Companioned through the day (at the fourth level): never being alone because at the centei" of one's heart and of the whole world'is the beloved: a turning to God, and frequently finding him there waiting. "Why worry about anything so long as the Lord is with me?" 6. Sense of an Intimate Providence in one's life, of being cared for with remarkable delicacy: events that at first put everything in jeopardy and turmoil eventually turn out to be fortunate; chancehappenings are later seen to fit together with precision; surprises'are taken as God's special attention to a person rather than as senseless interruptions to his or her life. "Someone loves me and is guiding me to himself over this rough road and dangerous terrain." 7. Sense of Belonging to God, to the Church (his people), to the mother of God, to one's community (parish, family, neighborhood, religious order, charismatic prayer-group): a sense of finally being at home--no matter where I travel; a deep content with God, world, oneself in the midst of contradiction. "Yes, my God owns the world--now what's the problem?" (". the world, life and death, the present and the future, are all your ser-vants; but you belong to Christ and Christ belongs to God" I Co 3:22-23.) 8. Firm Conviction of Doing Exactly What God Wants at the Moment and of not wanting to do anything else or to be anywhere else: a sense of rightness (without righteousness) about one's present action; a determined sense of vocation which is nevertheless ready for change; riding hard, yet sitting easy, in the saddle. "For the moment this is where it all is." 9. Constant Hunger to Serve Others: to give them joy, to help them expand their personalities in happiness-knowledge-commitment--even though the servant (e.g., teacher, counselor) will be soon forgotten and very likely will have little'to show for his or her services. "How can I be of help without getting in your way?" 10. A Steady Sense of Gratefulness to God: for the fullness of one's life--for each person, event, knock-at-the-door; a wonder at how much God has entrusted to oneself; gratitude, the mark of maturity and full humaneness. Contemplation-in-Action "How could you be so good to me, Lord?" 11. Finding God in Others: seeing by faith that this person is beloved by God; not projecting some Christ-image on the person so that the latter is not seen for himself and is therefore depreciated, but rather discovering this new value in the person, and therefore serving him more carefully, listening to him more attentively, finding his core-goodness. "He is my brother and Christ's brother.'" 0 These eleven modes (they could be a thousand) have an inner unity amid their diversity." First of all, each is concerned with the wholeness of both the contemplative and the object contemplated. For example, hope sums up the whole past and present to send the totality into the future without a constrict-ing fear; patience serenely holds the present fragmenting situation together; hidden teamwork binds the group together and offers leadership when fragmentation or misdirection threatens; passive alertness to others offers time and support for the healing process; the sense of being companioned at the center of one's being leads into a sense of providence intimately and delicately converging all events towards a full future goodness; the sense of belonging to God-community-worm produces a wholesome contentedness which paradox-ically can issue into fierce efforts to build a better community and world with the firm conviction of doing exactly What God wants at the moment; the con-stant selfless hunger to serve others naturally builds wholesome community; and the steady sence of gratefulness to God means gratefulness to other which, in turn, produces the close unity of friendship.'2 Clearly, then, this heart awareness of God, this apostolic religious contemplation-in-action, fulfills well the definition of contemplation as the perceiving and the building of wholesomeness in the comtemplative and in the object contemplated. There is a second inner unity among these eleven modes of contemplation-in- action. Evidently, each mode is itself an attitude (an habitually lived value) which inspires and molds the.activity flowing out of it. In other words, the mode of contemplation controls the actibn of apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. But each of the eleven attitudes embodies, in its own way, a single attitude common to them all: a total accepting of all reality (God, t°Yves Raguin, S.J. (Paths to Contemplation, translated by Paul Barrett, O.F.M. Cap., Abbey Press, St. Meinrad, Ind., 1974, p. 82), stresses that "the love of God teaches us to love others for themselves., just as they are, with all their defects and with all their hopes." Here he finds common ground between Eastern and Western schools of contemplation, but also great differences (pp. 4-11). "In How to Pray Always without Always Praying (Fides/Claretian, Notre Dame, Ind., 1978) Silvio Fittipaldi, O.S;A., speaks of prayerfulness as a basic life-orientation under!ying all one's activities (p. vii). He then deftly shows how deep questioning of everyday events (pp. 11-27) and a constant wondering-longing about life (pp. 29-40) can be a praying always. These are two more modes to add to the eleven already noted. '21n his Letter to the Colossians, St. Paul, when listing the signs of Christian growth (1:9-12), ap-pears to mention five or six of these modes of contemplation in action. 334 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 world, self, people) and a sense of being, in turn, accepted by all reality.' ~ This attitude is a deep welcoming of all the people and events of life--an attitude symbolized when one's arms are extended wide in service and one's face bears a confident smile of trust." Now among the eleven modes, one may rise in prominence to succeed a second which then recedes to be called upon at a later time for a different situation. Though a person~may temporarily feel, for example, less hope or less sense of intimate providence, nevertheless these attitudes remain even though submerged under the new succeeding mode of, e.g., passive alertness to others. Meanwhile, the single deepest attitude of simple acceptance or welcome is being expressed in one of the eleven (or one thousand) modes. The modes, of course, vary according to the needs of the situation, the type of work being done, or the growth-phase of the contemplative-in-action. But always the single basic attitude of welcoming acceptance knits them together with expectant trust in God and his world. Could it be that this unify-ing attitude is what enables the apostolic contemplative "to pray always"? Could it be, then, that this basic acceptance of God and of his world is the ac-tive embodiment of a man's fundamental option?" The negative side of this acceptance is dramatized in the death-bed rejection of family, God, and world, when the dying person implies: "God, you'v.e cheated me consistently with this harassing world of yours and with this demanding family of mine. Now stay out of my life forever." Such basic cynicism, bubbling corrosively in each of us, can eat away the roots of apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. To face our cynicism may be to see more clearly the radical source of such ~c.ontemplation. Human Cynicism Versus the Divine Indwelling Over our contemporary culture a vast cloud of cynicism rolls, paralyzing the self-sacrificing attitude which empowers apostolic religious contempla- "Hans Urs Von Balthasar, in his article "On Unceasing Prayer" (Theology Digest Vol. 25/1, pp. 35-37), takes this basic attitude to be a readiness to hear God's word at all times in all things, events and persons. "To pray always, therefore, means to make real what is--in turning to God and to the world." For Von Balthasar, such constant prayer is kept alive by articulated or formal prayer in which it is remembered. "The books of George Maloney, S.J., sketch this weldoming attitude in various ways. Inward Stillness (Dimension Books, Denville, N.J., 1976), sees it as a loving surrender in all things to God's loving guidance (pp. 91-92) and as a heart-prayer of constant thankfulness (p. 99). Nesting in the Rock (Dimension Books, 1978, pp. 86 ff.), develops this theme. The Breath of the Mystic (Dimension Books, 1974, pp. 181-183), speaks of contemplation-in-action as a "contuition," a simultaneous awareness of the creature and of the dynamic presence of God within the creature as its ground of being; it is, then, a lov, ing affinity for all with all b~ings. ~qn his How to Pray Today (Abbey Press, St. Meinrad, Ind., 1975, translated by John Beevers, pp. 40-41), Yves Raguin, S.J., finds that the basic disposition for prayer is acceptance of the human condition. Such acceptance first acknowledges that every good act is under the influence of the Holy Spirit and then enjoys this fact amid all the ups and downs of secular activity. Contemplation-in-Action / 335 tion-in-action. In the face of mammoth social problems, contemporary man is oftencounseled: "Always watch out first for Number One, otherwise you'll be suffocated by other people's needs." The human mind and heart then con-cludes: "Apostolic contemplation-in-action is impossible." And the Lord replies within the heart of each person precisely as he responded to Peter's similar complaint in the episode involving the rich young man: "Yes; it is im-possible- without God." This complaint often takes the form of an objection: "How can I who am so aware of my own fragmentation and partialness be expected to help others to wholesomeness? Who am I to attempt apostolic contemplation-in-action?" The very formulation of this objection is a humiliating experience, yet the humiliation happens to be the first step in doing such contemplation-in- action. Tho married couple raising three young children has known from the days of the first birth that the one spouse's partiainess will, paradoxically and often humiliatingly, be the source of the other's wholesomeness. Hus-band and wife need each other's partialness to become whole, just as they need their own growing wholesomeness to lure their children to wholesome living and just as they need their children's needs tO call them to greater wholesomeness of action. Christ, knowing thoroughly the agony of bringing fragmentation to wholeness, is there to help with Cana's sacrament of matrimony. Thus, apostolic contemplation-in-action, through this sacra-ment, can be intimate to the daily routines of married life; while at the same time the seeming impossibility of marital contemplation-in-action reveals to the cynical that the heart-awareness of God and his people is pure gift. Not rarely the most cyn. ical person of all concerning apostolic contemplation-in-action is the priest ministering the sacrament of reconcilia-tion, that efficacious sign of ultimate wholeness. In the confessional, his fragmented, partial self laments: "I should be confessing to this good pe{son, not he to me. His wholesomeness comes through the more deeply he sorrows over his failures to be of help to his wife and children, his friends and co-workers." Yet as the Lord permeates the priest's absolution to heal the peni-tent, he simultaneously heals the priest precisely through the iatter's humilia-tion at his own fragmentation. The gift of reconciliation for the penitent can often contain the gift of apostolic contemplation-in-action for the priest. Somehow, in allowing God to work through him, the priest has acted beyond his own capacities as a human being and has simultaneously increased the wholeness of the penitent and of himself. But this example is not meant to imply that apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is easily acquired and done. For this basic attitude of welcoming acceptance of God and world, this heart-awareness of God and his people, animates and directs "the stretch," that continuous, disciplined action of serving, healing and challenging others beyond one's own capacities. For the gift of heart-awareness of God and his people demands that the apostolic contemplative constantly and painfully grow in generous action for 336 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 others. To operate beyond one's capacities in this way means to take risks con-tinually and to undergo humiliations inevitably. There must, then, be some unique source of illumination and strength within the being of the apostolic contemplative-in-action. Otherwise, he or she would fragment under the pressures and demands of such a life. It would appear that the divine indwelling of the Trinity is this ultimate source for apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. In Christ's prayer for his disciples (Jn 17:18-23), a prayer of "wholing" action, he speaks of "send-ing" the disciples, and all his believers, just as the Father had sent him so that "All may be one as you, Father, are in me and I in you; I pray that they may be [one] in us, that the world ma.), believe that you sent me." Apostolic contem-plation- in-action becomes, then, the manifesting of the Son, Jesus Christ, to the world in the apostolic actions of the contemplative. But the very action promoted by Jesus within the contemplative has also contained Jesus' mani-festation of the Father to this contemplative. As a result the contemplative's action in the world reveals both the Father and the Son. In this way, the apostolic contemplative becomes Their living glory expressed for all to see in the contemplative's maturing manhood or womanhood. Such action enables Father and Son to be present incarnately to the world. At the same time, the Spirit, indwelling in the people of God and in the contemplative, inflames the contemplative's actions so that they become more truly and fully acts of love (caritas) which simultaneously cause wholeness in others and in the con-templative. Here apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is seen to go far beyond the human capacities of the contemplative as it heals the world into wholesomeness through "the stretch." At this point, the problem of apostolic contemplation-in-action becomes more evident. Misunderstanding of it makes one feel falsely guilty for not hav-ing mystical graces of extraordinary mental vision and will-strength, for not being able physically to see Christ in the other, for not keeping the morning's solitary prayer in unbroken continuity through the day, for not enjoying fre-quent upsurges of strong consolation during work. But rather, it would seem that apostolic contemplation-in-action is the gradual and painful explicita- ~tion of the divine indwelling operative in all the contemplative's actions. It is the slow bringing-to-consciousness of the Trinity's workings within the con-templative's actions, within "the stretch." Now this gradual awareness is, concretely and basically, the apostolic con-templative's developing attitude of welcoming acceptance towards God, his people, and his world. By operating unobtrusively behind and within all the contemplative's actions in the world, this attitude leaves the contemplative's senses, mind, emotions, decision-power, and imagination free to concentrate on the particular work and the persons at hand. As a result, the contemplative is not less, but more, present to the work and the people; not less, but more, alert to their needs; not less, but more, hopeful of their expanding wholesomeness. Such total dedication, made possible by apostolic religious Contemplation-in-Action / 337 contemplation-in-action, becomes that magnificent self-forgetfulness which Karl Rahner sees as "praying always" and as beautiful surrender to God." Consequently, this deep heart-awareness of God and his people which constitutes apostolic contemplation-in-action can be a gradual expansion of the indwelling Trinity's effective presence within the contemplative's "stretch." This presence rises slowlythrough the contemplatives's whole be-ing so that his arms can go out in self-forgetting welcome to God and his world. Thus, the contemplative's subsequent actions carry ever more passion, strength, intelligence, compassion and wholesome beauty. Such con-templative action can then manifest strong love without crushing the beloved and competent service without condescension to the beneficiary. For it will in-clude the fuller action of the indwelling Trinity seeking to make all humans one as the Father, Son and Spirit are one in their own eternal wholeness of the divine family. ~6Karl Rahner, The Religious Life Today (Seabury, New York, 1976), p. 49. The" Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The White Robed Citadins of Paris M. Grace Swift, O.S.U. Sister Grace teaches at Loyola University of the South. Her mailing address is: Box 192; Loyola University; New Orleans, LA 70118. Ancient bells begin their clamorous count-down of eleven hours. A hooded nun, enshrouded in yards of creamy white wool, rises from her place on the matted rug-covered nave floor of St. Gervais et Protais Church, Paris. She mounts the steps, bows deeply before the icon enshrined on the massive altar, and with her Easter taper, lights the seven-branched menorah standing in back of the Eucharistic table. The Sunday liturgy begins as the celebrant and choir proclaim the central theme: "All you who have been baptized in Christ have put on Christ, Alleluia." During the next hour and a half people from all corners of Paris, indeed from all corners of the world, will find themselves involved in a liturgy that is uniquely prayerful, reverent, dramatic, and stunningly beautiful. For this is why this community came to be--to provide for harried urbanites a setting where they could find an oasis of prayer, where a celebration of the sacred mysteries could unfold with the leisurely, spellbinding grandeur of a true monastic milieu. The people of Paris have voted with their feet for the effort. Before the liturgy begins, the monks (roughly about a dozen) enter individually and kneel on the left side of the wide nave, their prayer area en-cased on two sides by choir stalls. An equal number of nuns, wearing the same deep-sleeved white habit enter, with only one apparent difference in their clothing: the nuns wear the capuche on their heads, while the monks allow it to hang down the back. In back of the kneeling monastic communities, the nave is filled with worshippers whokneel, like them (and very close to them), on the reed rug. Others sit on benches or chairs at the sides and in front of the altar area. In France, one may look in vain in many churches for young people at- 338 Citadins of Paris / 339 tending mass, but here, they are conspicuously evident. One willowy lad sits cross legged on the floor, proclaiming by his rigidly straight back and tucked in chin that he has dabbled in Zen. At times, many of the youths uninhihitedly imitate the profound, fetal-positioned bows of the worshipping monks and nuns. Some wear the special metal cross that identifies them as youths who have spent a week at Taiz6. A turbaned black girl peals forth the French lyrics with the sobbing overtones her tribal ancestors once used to summon dark Senegalese spirits. No guitars, no cheap gimmicks draw them there, for this liturgy is designed to meet the tastes of some of the most cultured urbanites of the world. Along with the youths, a solid strata of bourgeois Parisians also compose the congregation. Everywhere one spots nuns of various congrega-tions, as well as many men who by their nondescript blue and gray suits reveal to a trained eye that they are French priests. They, too, need the nourishment of St. Gervais. As mass progresses, a drunk ambles down the side aisle and dazedly turns 360°. With a blank stare at the congregation and a gesture of appeal with his hands he mutters, "Mes fr~res." He provides no lasting distraction, for all attention is riveted on the liturgical drama. Its magnetism lies not only in its splendid integration of prayer and majestic Byzantine-style music, but also in the witness of the monks and nuns themselves. The communities in charge of this liturgy are now called Les Fraternit~s Monastiques de Jerusalem. The monks started life under the leadership of Pierre Marie Delfieux on November 1, 1975, with the invitation and blessing of FranCois Cardinal Marty of Paris. On December 8, 1976 a company of women formed in a neighboring area near the Church of Notre Dame des Blancs Manteaux. The Rule specifically states that there never was or would be any intention of having a mixed community; each group has its own separate establishment and administration, though they do celebrate the liturgy together and share the same spirit and aims--to be monks and nuns in the city, or citadins.~ They have no pastoral, sacramental, teaching, or organized charitable commitment. Signs notify the public that for weddings and sick calls, they can contact the neighboring churches. The members of these groups aim chiefly: 1) to be present in the city and 2) to celebrate the liturgy and divine office in company with the townspeople. The liturgy being a prime concern of their existence, they take time to plan and execute it with all the artistry their con-siderable, combined talents can effect. In choosing a style of.music for their services, the leaders concluded that much of the contemporary church music was shallow, both musically and theologically. Wanting a dominant style that would manifest a global unity, 'Two articles in French give some information al~out these communities: Jean Leclerq, O.S.B., "Tendances Monastiques Actuelles," Nouvelle Revue Theologique, 10e Ann6e, No. i (January- February, 1978), pp. 90-102 and "Naissance d'une Fraternit~ Monastique ~t Paris," Carmel (April, 1976), pp. 56-66. 340 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 they chose Byzantine modes to accompany their Roman liturgy. With lyrics based upon psalmic and patristic sources, translated effectively into French, the simple, strong, rolling harmonies are easily mastered. The result is almost total participation by the congregation. St. Gervais boasts one of the oldest and finest organs in Paris. It is used selectively and effectively at the end of the liturgy and during special times of meditative prayer. The sisters, with beautiful, clear voices, take an active role in leading the singing, in reading, and in gathering together the offertory procession, which always includes lay people and children. An abundant use of incense in the liturgy adds even more of an aura of Byzantine mystery to the ceremony. The Fraternit6 includes several priests. For the Sunday liturgy, the con-celebrants sing, in three harmonic parts, the canon of the mass. Some other parts of the mass, sung alone by the chief celebrant, are accompanied by a background of soft, harmonic melody, hummed by the monks and nuns. At communion time, the frdres and soeurs draw together to form a half-circle about the altar, completed sometimes by lay. members of the congregation. The priests chant in harmony: "Receive the body of Christ," to which the congregation responds in the same harmonic parts: "We receive the body of Christ." A huge host, the size of an American dinner plate, is broken and dist~'ibuted to the encircled brothers and sisters. The same sung ritual accom-panies the chalice. The result is a moving evocation of a truly shared banquet. The total impression given by all the reverent and graceful movements of the mass is that this is the most important event in the lives of the celebrating com-munity- which is just as it should be. The Monastic Fraternit6s The vocation of citadin was revealed to the founder of the F.raternit6s after profound searching in prayer. The rules for community life have been developed in stages, after actual experience in communal living. The guidelines (for communal use only) are now contained in two mimeographed volumes: l) Au Coeur des Villes, au Coeur de Dieu (At the Heart of the Cities, At the Heart of God) and 2) Le Livre de Vie(The Book of Life). Abundant scriptural references in the latter remind the reader that Mary lived, Jesus taught, the apostles evangelized, and prophets and priests of old sacrificed, in the city. Christ fought the devil and conquered him in a city; the fire of the Holy Spirit descended in a city. The beloved of the Canticle sought her Lover while running about the city, and one day He will make the city his beautiful spouse. Indeed, Heaven itself is a City. "It is there that we must remain," the Rule affirms, since God himself dwells there, and thousands of his brothers work, love, weep, sweat, sing, search, struggle and pray there. The Church of St. Gervais is surrounded by all the civic bustle entailed in commerce and governmental administration. It is near the Quais du Seine where lovers stroll l and tourists buy postcards. Its metro stop is H6tel de Ville, the seat of many offices of Parisian city government. Walking in another direction, a visitor Citadins of Paris / 341 soon meets Rue Rivoli, a thriving center of cheap stores and sidewalk vendors selling anything from ice cream to wool stockings. The picturesque Tie Saint Louis, an ancient area called the Marais, and le Forum des Halles are also located in its orbit. The Rule does not lightly gloss over the difficulties of trying to live a monastic life amidst the allurements of one of the world's most beguiling cities. But, the Livre de Vie asks, "Being torn in two directions, is this not the cross?" To be able to live in the city without succumbing to its worldliness, rules of life are spelled out in the Le Livre de Vie which provide for the monks and nuns an armor of fraternal charity, interior and exterior silence, and liberating poverty. Concrete community guidelines focus upon five related points: 1) Fraternal Life 2) Prayer 3) Work 4) Silence and 5) Welcome and Sharing. Fraternal Charity The Rule never ceases to demand love, both of humanity in general and, harder still, of each other. "Only a very great love can offer the world a legitimate and fair defiance," the Livre de Vie explains. "Our vocation is to be a theophany of the love of God, a living icon of the Trinity. There is no more beautiful liturgy, no more eloquent witness, than that of fraternal love. We must live in the heart of the city the mystery of that love." Along with such a sublimely beautiful articulation of theory, the rule gives some concrete sug-gestions for achieving it: "Ask each day that God pour into your heart love for your brothers, and also to place love for you in their hearts. God can refuse nothing to a community who prays this way., ask the trinitarian God to reveal to you the secret of his unity in plurality . In order to succeed in loving, become transparent. Let yourself be known and seek to know. Knowledge opens the way necessarily to love . Do not be content to be a brother of all; be also a friend of each . Pray that the monastic fraternity be entirely translucent to the Presence of the Word, as a foyer of Light . " Prayer Designedly, the community life of prayer has both very public and very private features. Compline is said in their own oratories, but for the monks, the other hours are sung in St. Gervais, with public participation. The p~riod of evening pra~;er begins around 5 p.m. At that time, monks, nuns and townspeople begin to gather for meditative prayer, followed by the evening office. The office flows into the liturgy about 6 p.m., which finally finishes about 7:15. On Thursday night, the monks keep a prayer vigil from 8 p.m. to 7 a.m. "Pray in the night in the center of the miseries and joys of the city, where ~God has placed you, as a watchman awaits the dawn," the Livre de Vie exhorts. The founders realized that the execution of such a horarium and liturgy each day could be draining; for that reason the communities have a poustinia (desert) time during Sunday afternoon and the full day of Monday, 342 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 which is spent in the country outside Paris. They join Parisians in the national custom of taking a grand vacance during the month of August. Work To support themselves, the members of the Fraternit~s must take jobs in the city. Guidelines demand that their work must be truly useful, prayerful, well executed, and bear witness to their professed poverty. In line with their vow of obedience, their job is chosen in consultation with the prior and council of the community. No job may be taken which could alienate or destroy their religious equilibrium. By a deliberate option to work only part time, they hope not only to free themselves for liturgical participation, but also to manifest to an acquisitive society their own disinterest in amassing wealth. Though they take menial jobs, there is no political aim or thrust to this option. "Ni Marx, ni Keynes, ni Mao. mais Jesus," declares the Livre de Vie. They are to have no role whatsoever in political life, since in that arena, divisions, confronta-tions and compromises are the rule of life. Instead, they are to manifest the Gospel of Peace in the polis by their lives of justice and truth. This alone is their "political" role. However, in an elocution to the community, Cardinal Marty urged them to be "revolutionary"-- but revolutionary in fidelity to their monastic commitment only. Silence To combat the noisy assaults of city streets, with their roaring, swirling masses of buses, autos, motorcycles and scurrying citizens, the monks and nuns are urged by rule to drink deeply of the wellsprings of prayerful silence: "At work, in the street, in your comings and goings, in the public transport, in the midst of the brouhaha of the city, carry interior silence with you. Take, each day, large expanses of silence, and when the evening comes, meditate on your couch in peace and silence. God lives in you; listen to him." Welcome and Sharing One purpose of the Fraternit~s is' to provide an enclave of such silence and peace for other Parisians. Guests are welcomed to full participation at the silent dinner served at their flower-bedecked wooden tables. In contrast to ~normal French custom, no wine, and little meat are to appear at the table. Round loaves of thick crusted, substantial bread form an important part of their diet: Though visitors are welcome, there are definite limits placed upon thepenetration of Paris (and the world in general) into the horarium of the monastic community. Afternoons are for lectio divina. The Livre de Vie tells the entering candidate to leave aside his address book, and to give up once and ~f for all shows and cinemas. Television has no part in their life, but a summary of the day's news is read at breakfast from the newspaper. Citadins of Paris / 343 Life-Style Guidelines for the community actually allow for a diversity of life-styles and a diversity of relationships to the community, within limits. However, only those who agree to follow the Livre de Vie may make final profession. Presently (1980) the Fraternit~s have the status of a pious union. After a postulancy of three months and a novitiate of two years, a candidate makes temporary profession "entre les mains" (between the hands) of the prior. After a period suitably long to discern a true vocation to the life, the bishop of the local church receives the perpetual profession of vows of the candidate in the local church, for the universal church. The coule blanche, the liturgical habit, has many sacred significances. It reminds the wearer of his white bap-tismal garment when he dons it. Its radiant whiteness recalls as well the Transfiguration and the angel on Easter morn, who wore a garment white as snow. The Ancient One in Daniel's vision had snow bright clothing, and a man in dazzling robes appeared to Cornelius in Acts. At home, the monks wear a short, blue hooded smock, topped by a wooden cross suspended from the neck. The latter is also worn with their street clothes. The sisters, like many other groups, have types of non-liturgical dress that vary with their jobs and mode of life. Several wear floor-length blue habits, veils and capes in the streets. Others wear the simple clothing of working women. Spiritual Wellsprings The founder acknowledges his debt to many traditions in developing the spirituality of the Fraternit6s: to Benedict, Dominic, Augustine, Theresa of Avila, the Early Eastern Fathers, Charles de Foucauld, and above all, to the first Christian community described in Acts, as well as the fraternity immediately surrounding Jesus Christ himself. The Livre de Vie and Au Coeur des Villes are liberally enriched with quotes from sources as widespread in time as St. John Cassian and Catherine de Hueck. Believing that communal self-sufficiency in spiritual matters is ossifying, members are urged to nourish themselves on outside resources. The candidate is encouraged to spend a week at a school of prayer at Troussures, France, and make a retreat at a monastery such as St. Benoit sur Loire. Finally, a month-long desert experience at a place like Assekrem, Morocco, is encouraged. Future Plans It is quite evident that this group has tried to proceed every step of the way attuned to the promptings of the Spirit. The Fraternit6s have been invited to bring their type of monasticism to various cities. So far, they have accepted one invitation: under the priorship of Bishop Michel Marie Darmencieo, a member of the Fraternit6, they now are situated at St. Victor's Church at Marseilles, the scene of a monastery established by St. John Cassian. By rule, the community is forbidden to own property or t6 build anything. Wherever they go, they must rent their dwelling place. Into whatever city they do go, ~i44 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 ~they will enter with the purpose expressed in the explanatory sheet distributed in St. Gervais; to "experien.ce the difficulties, alienations, struggles, work, constraints, fatigue, noise, pollution, pains and joys, the sin and the holiness" of the city. Wherever they go, they likewise bear with them the spirit expressed in the Livre de Vie: "Do not forget that the community where you live is the privileged part of the universe where you are to situate yourself. May your monastery be first of all a part of the world where there is life, where love is shared, where joy, work, fervor, praise and peace are to be found. As at home, so also in the world. Reveal and find God in the heart of the world; remember its first beauty and anticipate its happiness to come. In the desert of the urban world may your monastery be an oasis of peace, prayer and joy; an epiphany of Love." On the final page of the Livre de Vie, Psalm 136 is transcribed: . If l forget you Jerusalem, Maymy right hand wither. One does not easily forget a liturgy at St. Gervais in communion with Les Fraternit~s Monastiques de Jerusalem. End of Drought 1 half awoke last night And wondered if I'd heard Soft whisperings outside my window. 1 was about to go back and continue my dream Then 1 stopped--and listened again. Yes, it was true A gentle rain Soft falling on my lawn. The bone cracked earth and croaking grackles Could drink again. It was a stealthy rain Loathe to intrude on the silent sleepers. Then in the morning it blew full blast And blessed the farmers and the flowers. Sr. Mary Margaret O'Grady Holy Ghost Convent 301 Yucca Street San Antonio, Texas 78203 Transfer to a Contemplative Community Marie Beha, O.S.C. Sister Marie's last article in these pages, "The Discernment of the Contemplative Vocation," appeared in the January 1981 issue. Her address remains: 1916 N. Pleasantburg Dr.; Greenville, SC 29609. These very days of your transition are perhaps the time when everything in you is working at him. Rainer Maria Rilke Though the changes in religious life consequent upon Vatican 1I are still too recent for adequate evaluation, they are beginning, at least, to come into the focus of observable patterns. One of these is the phenomenon of transfers from one religious congregation to another. A small but significant number of religious have opted to remain in religious life, but to live out their vowed commitment in another community. Perhaps this .emerging pattern will have something important to say about the future of religious life itself, and about the kinds of communities that have a future. However, any such speculation seems very premature at this point. What is immediate is the process itself, and what it means for individuals and for their communities. A few workshops have been devoted to this process of transferring, and several articles have appeared describing some of its pains and joys. But, for the most part, what has been presented is the movement from one apostolic congregation to another. The present article wishes to focus on transfers from an apostolic community to a contemplative one, a process that relates not only to the transfer phenomenon but also to that growing concern for prayer, and 345 346 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 especially for contemplative prayer, which has been one of the most hearten-ing aspects of the contemporary renewal of religious life. Transferring from one apostolic congregation to another has its own dynamics, quite distinct from what is involved in making the transition into contemplative community life. Failure to appreciate this difference makes it more difficult for communities and for individuals to cooperate with the promise and to evaluate the phenomenon. At the same time there are elements common to any such transferring--questions, for example, of the danger in-herent in the change, the discernment of motivation, as well as the paschal grace of such uprooting and coming into new life. It is the purpose of this paper to present some of these aspects as they are experienced in unique ways by the "contemplative transfer." Dangers and Difficulties To begin with a warning is only appropriate when there is real danger and when the danger may not be immediately evident. Such seems to be the case in regard to transferring. The process of transfer can be dangerous and the danger remain somewhat hidden, since the holiness of the objective may obscure a faulty theology undergirding the process, some confusion about growth in prayer, along with some elements of escapism and/or mixed motivations. The consequences of transfer can be as serious as the loss of religious vocation for the individual and the disruption of peace for both communities involved. Faulty theology may present the contemplative, monastic community as a more "perfect" form of religious life, even downplaying the importance of apostolic involvement as "too worldly." Since any vocational choice can only be evaluated in terms of the person choosing, speaking of an objective "state of perfection" seems to miss the point. Just as religious life itself can be termed a more perfect state (even in the Vatican II terminology ofPerfectae Caritatis) without implying that it would be so for any particular individual, so too, could some such judgment be made about contemplative life. But what is "~ important for the individual to consider is what is better for himself, not what is "more perfect" in the abstract and the general. Moreover, a spiritual theology which rests on the assumption that "one must always do the more perfect" is doomed to run into danger on the rocks of human limitation. Such perfectionism threatens strain and excessive preoccupation with self, neither of which fosters a contemplative spirit. Even for those who are immune from such a false theology, there remains a possible confusion about development in prayer. Sometimes a call to contemplative prayer is translated into a call to monastic life--with conse-quent loss.for the whole Christian community. The transition from a form of prayer that is more active to one that is more passive is a difficult time for anyone. Thomas Dubay has called this the "crack" period in religious development, and it may be compared with the difficulties and crises that are Transfer to a Contemplative Community part of any of the transitions from one life-stage to another. Such critical times do not provide the stability that makes possible good life-choices. Growth into a more contemplative form of prayer is actually part of the development that can be considered "normal" for most persons who are serious about prayer. It says more about the munificence of God's gifts and his desire to be one with us, than about any need to change communities. The latter is a very different kind of call and consequently, one that needs to be discerned separately. Transferring to a contemplative monastery during a crisis time in prayer might mask a reluctance to face the difficulties of persevering in prayer during times of dryness. Individuals may imagine that once they are enclosed, distractions will disappear and consolations will return--in abundance. They will be quickly disabused of such hopes in the everyday of monastic living. Even the prospect of having ample time provided for prayer will prove to hold its own challenge. For "more time" can also mean "more demands": more awareness of distractions, more painful dryness. Add to this all the unsettle-ments that are bound to be part of such a radical adjustment as transferring and prayer may well prove to be even more difficult than before. Similarly, any secret desire to escape the challenges of renewal or to insulate oneself from painful community relationships will be tested in the closeness of contemplative community. Unfortunately, some religious seem to equate monastic religious life with the kind of structured life in community that prevailed before Vatican II. So the desire to transfer can spring from a search for a more compatible expression of apostolic religious life, rather than ~t'~a genuine contemplative vocation. In reality contemplative communities have been just as much affected by Vatican II renewal as have apostolic congrega-tions. Changes, for example, in the living out of enclosure have caused just as many painful tensions as have adaptations in apostolic involvement. Struc-tures have developed in both forms of religious life and will continue to do so. Renewal requires participation, not escape, no matter where one is called to live. Nor does a transfer necessarily ease the tensions of community relation-ships. On the contrary, living in the close, everyday proximity of enclosed community may only heighten such tensions. Spending all one's days with the very same people, in a restricted area and with a limited sphere of activity can never provide escape from the interpersonal. "Contempla(ive community" actually requires a well-developed capacity for sharing life with others, including a delicate balance between intimacy and a respect for solitude which enables one to live with others in a silence that communicates life. In a similar way, an authentic call to transfer is anything but an escape from apostolic involvement. On the contrary, what will be needed is a vibrant desire to be given to and for the sake of others, joined with a faith that is strong enough to translate this call into an everyday service that is not sustained by any immediately tangible results. So if a person is dissatisfied with the :348 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 results of his apostolic work, it would be foolish to try and escape into the even less satisfying life of faith that is the "labor" of the contemplative. And if anyone hopes to find a variety of stimulating options within the everyday tasks of contemplative community, he will be rapidly disillusioned. Even the more plausible motivation of resolving a conflict between prayer and activity can speak more of escapism than of genuine call. Vocation is not discerned negatively, but only through such positive signs as a genuine desire for a life of prayer (not just more time for prayer) and a belief that this self-gift will bear fruit in and for the Church. Such positive criteria for discern-ment will be presented in more detail in the following section of this paper. These, then, are a few of the hidden dangers rising from faulty theology, a confusion about growth in prayer, and tendencies to eseapism, which could prompt an individual to transfer for the wrong reasons. Still to be considered are some of the real dangers involved in the process itself both in terms of the individual and of the communities involved. When a person professes vows, the commitment is made to God, but it is made within the context of a particular community, and this communitarian aspect is not to be changed lightly. Though made by man and so changeable in itself, life in community embodies a call that is divine and eternal. In all its particularity, community gives a specific form to vocation. While not of the essence, still this form may be a very important, even necessary, condition for vocation to grow and flourish. Consequently, changing from one community to another risks undermining the stability of the individual's commitment. If the new community does not provide the hoped-for environment, return to the former one may prove to be impossible and so a vocation may be lost. Other risks inherent in transferring center around the extent of adjustment which will certainly be profound. "Culture shock" is almost inevitable. Even though the "natives" of the adopted community speak "English," still new values, different associations will make it difficult to discover the meaning of words and actions, of response, and of nonverbal communication. The result will be a feeling of lostness and confusion that cannot be met by something as simple as asking questions. For there are no words in which to phrase the ques-tions, no answers that make sense. There may even be an unnerving lack of awareness that something has been "misunderstood" until confusion has deepened into a cloud as indefinite and suffusing as fog: Similarly homesickness for one's community of origin can be even more profound than the feeling that accompanied one's first leaving home for the convent. For the home that is now being left has claimed more of one's adult life and so has called for a freer choice, a more committed response. To leave ~one's family for .the sake of forming new life-bonds is part of the naturalpro-cess of growth and development. But leaving the community of one's first choice for another is not so natural, and the consequences are often profound and disturbing. In the process a certain spirit of criticism can develop. This may even bea necessary part of discernment as one reevaluates call and response, one's own Transfer to a Contemplative Community / ~149 vocation and that of both communities involved. But such critical reflection can become a pattern of thinking that keeps one on the periphery, "watching" and judging way beyond the period when this stance is necessary. This spirit of uninvolved criticism chips away at commitment and makes participation in community impossible. Such are a few of the real dangers involved for individuals who are con-sidering transfer'ring. What are the risks for the communities? Loss of membership in the original community is one obvious area of concern--not just the obvious matter of a person leaving this community to join another. What may be far more painful is the kind of vocational questioning that can arise among other members of the parent community. Such reevaluation may be wholesome, if it leads to renewed discernment of and commitment to one's own vocational choice. But it can also be weakening if it simply adds to diminished morale, feelings of hopelessness and that sense of disillusionment that plagues so many during times of transition. Similarly, the community receiving the transfer can have its peace dis-turbed if the new member, already a formed religious, brings along an incom-patible spirituality together with an undocile mind and heart. Within the closeness of contemplative community, such lack of harmony can be pro-foundly disturbing to all, with consequent loss of service to the whole Church. Such are the dangers in~,olved, both for individuals and for communities. The difficulties are real; the cost is certainly not minimal. The basic question is, then: Is transferring worth theprice? Are the real risks offset by still greater advantages? Are there compensations for the dangers? Yes, if transferring ac-tualizes a more personalized call-response, leading to still deeper commit-ment. When such is the case, not only will the individual find fuller life in the Lord, but both communities involved will also be enriched; such is the unity of all members in the one Body of Christ. The whole question of transferring, then, seems to hinge on the validity of this new call-within-a-call. Theologically such development is possible since the only absolute fidelity in this special covenant relationship is found in a God "whose love is everlasting." The response of any individual can only par-ticipate in this love through an ongoing "creative fidelity" aimed at fashion-ing all life's choices in the light of an original baptismal commitment. The direction for such responsiveness will always be toward greater specificity, a more personal love. Though this ongoing response will be shaped within the context of a particular community, this form, while remaining important, is still only conditional. It may be changed, if this will serve to realize more closely one's first commitment t6 the Lord. Particularly, then, for our present purposes the issue revolves around discernment of an authentic call to transfer from apostolic to contemplative life. Discernment an Authentic Call to Transfer What might be some of the signs that one is being called to deepen one's ~i50 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 baptismal commitment by transferring religious profession from an apostolic congregation to a contemplative community? Here we shall suggest a few of the practical ways in which the traditional vocational criteria of desire, right motivation, and ability to live the life, are evidenced in the case of a proposed ttransfer. \ A long-term desire for contemplative life seems one of the clearest signs that someone should undertake the risks of making a transfer. In many cases, this desire was already present at the time the individual entered religious life but, for a variety of reasons, it was never actualized. Circumstances may simply have made it impossible; ignorance or poor advice may also have con-tributed. So the desire was put aside, perhaps completely forgotten. Profes-sion was made, and that commitment lived out wholeheartedly and with joy. But years later the desire for contemplative life reappears. Sometimes it is recognized as a familiar part of one's past; sometimes it comes as a new and surprising idea with recognition only following later. In either case, such con-tinuity with the past provides a sense of direction in the unfolding of one's per-sonal salvational history. Even when.the desire for contemplative life is not remembered or recogniz-ed as part of one's past, at some point in the present the emergence of this desire becomes so strong that it can no longer be ignored. When first en-countered consciously, the desire is more often a matter of wanting to live out contemplative values rather than a careful comparison/choice of active-i verSus-comtemplative community. A whole life devoted to prayer, supported and challenged by a community of other "pray-ers," by solitude and silence, combined with a very simple, even austere style of life: these are some of the values that become increasingly important. As desire for them grows, so, too, does the longing for a way of living them out more fully and completely. At first this may be met by providing more time for prayer, arranging to live in a prayer-centered local community or one which is experimenting with a simpler way of living. For some, such restructuring of life-style is the answer; for others this is not enough, and the desire continues to grow. A period in a House of Prayer may be another option and, once again, this may provide the right balance of prayer and active apostolate for certain individuals. For others, the quest must continue simply because the desire for a purely con-templative life continues, increases, and must ultimately be met in life. This longing for a way to live out contemplative values may lead one final-ly to a moment of realization and choice. Apostolic religious life can no longer ~provide the support, stimulation, structure for the kind of contemplative life to which the religious feels called. And at this point, transferring becomes a matter of vocational decision. Such recognition is eminently paschal, filled as it is with the painful realization that one must leave behind his "homeland" and "pass over" a desert of unknowns. Yet there is also joy, an anticipation that what lies ahead promises more life, deeper peace. Even the pain of leaving the congregation of one's first profession is somewhat tempered by the realization that unless he Transfer to a Contemplative Community had given of himself there, had truly identified, there would be no loss now. Nor would there be much hope of future success. This experience of having been fully part of one's original congregation, of having found peace and joy in community there, is almost a presupposition of any authentic call to transfer. Someone who has not been happy originally probably will not find any more satisfaction in contemplative life. On the other hand, an individual who has known what it means to give himself to community and in community may come to realize that another successful identification is possible, even though it will be made with some pain. This returns us to the whole complex question of motivation. Why should an individual who has already made profession consider transferring his com-mitment to a contemplative community? In the preceding section we examined a whole series of false motivations, including poorly founded theological prin-ciples, escapism, and an inadequate understanding of contemplative life. These need to be confronted, not in the safety of abstraction, but in the reality of one's own life-experience, and with the realistic help of others who know the individual and both forms of religious life. Of even greater importance is the discerning of positive motivation, since a mere lack of obstacles does not give clear indication that a person ought to go ahead in a certain new life direc-tion. Vocation is positive call, not just an absence of negative criteria. To ask the "why" of one's motivation is important and fruitful but only so long as one keeps in mind that the "answer" cannot be found by adding up worttiy reasons, for, in the last analysis, human motivation remains mystery. It can never be known in its totality, with certainty. The reasons we give are, at best, approximations, and the final answer to the "why" is found only in the living out of the decision. Having recognized that a list of reasons never adds up to certitude, still it can be an indicator that an individual should risk the time and energy of a fur-ther discernment in actual life. Very often the "why" of a transfer can only be phrased in an unsatisfying "because, somehow, I can do nothing else." Such an experience of almost necessity, of inability to do anything else with one's life until this pressing question has been answered, may be an uncomfortable, but true indicator of basic motivation. Such necessity, though, is not a matter of compulsiveness, but rather of a freedom that grows, once the internal logic of choice has been admitted and acted upon. A person may come to discover that his whole movement of life has been in the direction of contemplative vocation, though the surface geography of his activities has been quite different. These very differences may even have been unconscious protest. Such, for example, is the case of an individual who has been a strong advocate of apostolic spirituality, of social involvement, of variety in ministries. All the while, what the person has been seeking on the deepest level, is a way of giving himself completely to the Lord. All the above are real ways; all have been tried. But all still leave something "wanting." "How can I be more giving?" becomes less of a question to be considered. Now it demands an answer that must be made in life. ~52 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 Traditionally, someone entering the monastery is asked, "What do you seek?" If the first answer, not just in liturgy, but in life is "The Lord," then there is good hope that what is being sought will be found. This is not to say that the person considering transfer has not already "found the Lord." But, like the good Christian who considers religious life just because of his previous discovery of the Lord, so too the individual who seriously considers transfer should only be desirous of greater union, a kind of intimacy that, for this par-ticular individual, seems more realizable in contemplative community. Put in still more concrete terms, someone who is already a religious may apply for a transfer because he experiences a desire to give prayer an absolute priority of time, energy, life-focus. In apostolic religious life, consideration of the needs of others, and of one's response to these needs, must always be cen-tral to discernment; this seems to be the meaning of apostolic spirituality. In monastic life, however, the central concern is the totality of life of prayer, and it is this dedication to prayer which becomes one's service to others. Consequently, the desire to give oneself to others through total dedication in prayer is central to any discernment of contemplative vocation, and this becomes even more critical when there is a question of transfer. This is because the person desirous of transfer has already internalized a spirituality of active, direct service, and his transition to a quite different orientation may not come easily or quickly, But unless an individual can come to see silence, solitude, simple manual work, austerity of life-style as contributing to a life of abiding prayer, and further, believe that personal prayer, lectio and liturgy are one's own call to building up the Body of Christ, then contemplative, monastic life will seem empty and fruitless. Moreover, such belief cannot re-main an intellectual assent, nor even an abstract faith-value; it must become personal conviction and motivation for life. Ultimately, then, desire and motivation are just the beginnings of discern-tment for a contemplative vocation. Only by living the life can the presence or absence of God's enabling grace be discovered. So let us conclude by sug-gesting some of the areas which will be particularly relevant in the life-testing of a call to transfer from apostolic to contemplative religious life. Will the potential transfer-person be able to go beyond the initial obstacles of radical adjustment with all its attendant anxiety, of separation from the original community which has provided so much of his identity and emotional support? Put in more positive terms, will the person, first of all, "survive" the transfer? For some, the culture shock, already alluded to, is so severe that there is consequent loss of health or debilitating emotional disturbance. And this, not just in the first crisis of adjustment, where it might well be expected, but increasingly as time goes on. When this happens, life experience leads to a negative discernment. On the contrary, when the Spirit is truly inspiring a person to make the transfer, then, despite the pain, growth will occur. Radical adjustment, separation anxiety, culture shock will all be in the service of conversion. The Transfer to a Contemplative Community / 353 individual will grow and grow in contemplative ways. A new identity will begin to emerge when the more familiar response of teacher, nurse, "member of." are no longer applicable. There will be a new appreciation for one's unique giftedness as person, simply because one is and one exists as a special expression of the Father's creative love. Growth will also occur through positive identification with the new com-munity. Ac.ceptance takes time but gradually new relationships will be formed, an individual will fit in, and his suitability for the life will be confirmed by the response of the community. What begins in strangeness will end in familiarity. For example, enclosure will no longer be a matter of adjustment, perhaps of difficulty, but will evolve into a simple means of ensuring the kind of solitude necessary for prayer. Prayer, in its turn, will grow and deepen. The regular praying of the Liturgy of the Hours in choir will no longer be unfamiliar ritual, nor frequent "interruption," but regular nourishment and opportunity for praise. The simplicity of the life, far from being monotonous, will lead to peace, making possible a "richness" of response that can only be sustained within a somewhat austere life-style. All of this, however, takes time. It requires effort on the part of the one who transfers; it requires also acceptance and assistance on the part of the community. Above all, it requires the empowering grace of God's call. When all of these are present, and when the passing of months and even years has allowed for a new identity to be formed, then the transferred person will final-ly come to recognize himself as a contemplative, a member of his new com-munity. The past will merge into this new present and integration will occur. For example, former skills and talents will find new expressions or will be sacrificed, "counted as nothing," in view of something still more worthwhile. Painful parts of the past will be healed; grateful remembering will allow all that has been to be incorporated into the present and open the way to the future. In short, adjustment will make way for gradual growth, and this growth will be in the direction of incorporation into the new community. When this occurs, the transfer will have been accomplished, and a new identification will have been made. The individual, as well as both communities, will be enriched, because, whenever life is lived more fully, the w.hole Body of Christ is vitalized. Let me conclude with a comparison. Among the old Irish monks, the grace of martyrdom was described in three ways: the "red" martyrdom of shedding one's blood, the "white" martyrdom of desire to give One's life for the sake of the gospel, and finally, the "green" martyrdom of exile, of pilgrimage and ac-cepted separation for the sake of new life in Christ. The transferred person may well find the grace of this unique vocation expressed in the hope-filled "green" of separation from what is familiar, good, loved, for the sake of greater union-- in contemplative community. The Right to Solitude Roman Ginn, O.C.S.O. Father Ginn, a monk of Gethsemani Monastery in Kentucky, has been living as a hermit in Latin America for the past fourteen years. His last article, "The Ladder of Prayer," appeared in the January, 1980 issue. Father Ginn's marling address is: Apartado 44; Huajuapan de Leon; Oaxaca, Mexico. The renewed interest in hermitical life during the last three decades should not be viewed with alarm but as a rediscovery of one of the first and most traditional forms of contemplative life. This rediscovery is taking place at a time when men are becoming more aware of their essential needs and rights. Speaking in the Music Council assembled by UNESCO, the violinist, Yehudi Menuhin, declared some twenty years ago that silence is one of man's princi-pal needs and concluded: "I hope that the right to silence will be recognized as being as important as the right to pure water and air." But the same claim should be extended to solitude. For if man is a social being who cannot develop as a person in perpetual solitude, in a very true sense he is also an un-social being who experiences the impersonality and artificiality unavoidable in relations with others (excepting perhaps with those who form his intimate cir-cle) as a kind of violence. The person's relation with society is problematic and neither his need for communication nor for solitude can be left unsatisfied without damage. But how can solitude be called aoneed and a right? Neither primitive peoples nor children feel any such need. But this is because they do not see it as a positive value but as isolation. Even the ea,rly Hebrews missed its positive side. They regarded solitude as an evil, a co~nsequence of sin, and promised God's special protection to those .moist exposed to it: the poor, widows, strangers and orphans. The Greeks however attained a positNe view of it. The hero of the Greek tragedies lives in a solitude that is both a condemnation and 354 ~ The Right to Solitude / :355 a privilege. Sophocles, for example, presents Oepidus as passing from a period of painful isolation into a new form of solitude that has something divine about it. But even if the Hebrews never escaped from a negative concept of solitude, they discovered the key to its understanding as a positive reality. For they gradually realized that each must 'learn to separate from the collectivity and face God and his will as an individual as well'as a member of society. They also saw that God could call some individuals to positions of confrontation with society which would force them to live in isolation. But they never managed to transform this isolation into a privileged situation and a means of closer union with God. So, without grasping the value of their discovery, they passed on the secret that man's development as a person is somehow connected with his ability to temporally break his ties to society in order to take possession of himself as a unique reality, an individual and responsible I. They present Jeremiah, for example, living through an isolation he deplores without know-ing how it is slowly transforming him from a timid, village youth into God's iron, ~ The oriental religions appreciated solitude as something positive long before the coming of Christ. Early Buddhist texts are full of its praise as a means of spiritual development. Even though Buddha himself later prescribed communal life for his followers, he never lost his esteem for solitude. In a statement preserved by the Itivattka, for example, he says: "O monks, have your dwelling and delights in solitude. Rejoice in solitude, dedicated to mental calmness in the depths of your selves, without forgetting to meditate, penetrated .with intuition; seek your dwelling in desert spots." The Udana records the story of the monk Bhaddiya who lived in a mango forest. Passersby had often heard him repeating over and over: "What happiness!" When they told Buddha about him, he called the monk and asked for an ex-planation. Bhaddiya replied: ¯ Sir, before, when i was a layman and enjoyed royal power as the father of a family, I had guards distributed both inside and outside my palace . And in spite of the fact that I was protected and safeguarded in such a way, I lived tormented by fear, restless, suspicious, frightened. Now, sir, wherever I find myself in the woods, under a tree or in a solitary spot, even though I am alone, I live without fear, tranquil, trustful, without trepidation, unworried, in peace, with whatever others give me, with my mind as free as a forest animal. This is why I repeat: "What happiness, what happiness." The poetic sections of the Buddhist canon love to use images of forest animals to describe the advantages of the solitary life. "Like a lion that over-comes everything, that wanders victorious as king of the forest, visiting its most distant corners and unfrightened by rumors." The solitary individual is likewise compared to the elephant and rhinoceros. The localities chosen by the first followers of Buddha as most apt for the pursuit of their end are another indication of the positive value they saw in solitude: mountains, forests, caves and cemeteries. 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 When Christian monasticism appeared in the mid-third century, it manifested a similar love for solitude, inspired of course by Jesus' example (See Mr. 4). Like their Oriental brothers, the Christian monks regarded it as the mother of the spiritual life. Cassian felt that normally the more solitude a monk had, the greater was his perfection.He put his third conference on the lips of Abbot Paphnutius, who lived in such inaccessible places that even other hermits "only with great difficulty caught a glimpse of him every now and then." Such a man was fittingly surnamed the Buffalo. But the fact that most of the praises of solitude in the early Church originated with monks (or ex-monks like St. John Chrysostom) does not mean it was something that concerned them alone. If they exploited it more than others, it was only because in general they took Christian life more seriously, and experienced the positive role of solitude in its development. Their appraisal has been confirmed by modern philosophers. Kierkegaard among Christian, and Nietzsche among non-Christian thinkers strongly stress the importance of solitude for personal development, If they exaggerate, this is only a perhaps necessary reaction to modern society's fear and devaluation of solitude. Nietzsche makes it the supreme value, one indispensable for the growth of all others. For a Christian it can only be a means, even though one - greatly neglected today. As the Greeks saw and the Hebrews sensed without clearly understanding, solitude reveals man's deepest self to him making it possible for him to become aware of his interior resources and discover meaning in his life. Because of its value in helping the individual pass from the suggestion of the collectivity to the liberty of maturity, it is a basic human right that must be carefully p~eserved. For the Christian it is also the entrance into that most sacred and secret .region of the person--his interiority--where union with God takes place. As St. Augustine loves to repeat, God is in the most intimate part of us. He is more truly within us than we are. Even after one has experienced enough solitude to develop into a mature person, periods of it will continue to be necessary, during which one's self-possession may be renewed. Otherwise a gradual self-alienation can set in that will prevent the individual from entering into deep and lasting communion with others and will allow him or her to sink into the negative solitude of isola-tion. Positive and voluntary solitude is a good way to prevent negative solitude. Such periods of solitude should not be used to sleep or simply rest in, but to feel out one's roots actively and become more one's true self before God. Only by doing this will the individual again become fit for fruitful rela-tions with others. There is al~;ays a danger however that we will turn solitude into an ab-solute, and be tempted to stay there. This would not be right, for God calls very few to follow in Abbot Paphnutius' footsteps. Too many buffalos would upset the Church's spiritual ecology. The ideal in most Christian lives will always be a happy balance betw~ei~ solitude and s6ciety, as Jesus himself lived The Right to Solitude / 357' it. To stay longer in solitude than God wills can lead to spiritual sterility. But after all the danger of overstaying one's time in solitude is not great. For, as many who have attempted hermitical life during the last thirty years have discovered, if the solitude is real, it will become unbearable for someone who does not belong there. As one of the Desert Fathers remarked: "The desert vomits out those whom God has not called into it." Covenanl The Father knocks at my door seeking a home for his son: Rent is cheap, 1 say. I don't want to rent. I want to buy, says God. I'm not sure 1 want to sell, but you might come in to look around. 1 think 1 will, says God. I might let you have a room or two. 1 like it, says God. 1'11 take the two. You might decide to give me more some day. 1 can wait, says God. I'd like to give you more, but it's a bit difficult. I need some space for me. I know, says God, but I'll wait. I like what 1 see. Hm, maybe 1 can let you have another room. 1 really don't need that much. Thanks, says God. 1'11 take it. I like what 1 see. I'd like to give you the whole house but I'm not sure-- Think on it~ says' God. 1 wouldn't put you out. Your house would be mine and my son would live in it. You'd have more space than you'd ever had before. 1 don't understand at all. I know, says God, but 1 can't tell you about that. You'll have to discover it for yourself. That can only happen if you let him have the whole house. A bit risky, 1 say. Yes, says God, but try me. I'm not sure-- 1'11 let you know. I can wait, says God. 1 like what I see. Margaret Halaska, osf On Being a Superior Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Father Meenan resides in the Jesuit community of 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Though it may seem strange, .I would like to begin a treatment of the role of the superior by reflecting for a bit on the phrase we so often use, "Thy will be done." When prayed, as in the Our Father, does it make any sense at all, when you think about it? Is there, for instance, some ,super-God" to whom the prayer is addressed, asking that he take care of God so that he makes sure that God's will gets done? Or maybe God doesn't know what his will is, so we pray, "Hope you find out." Perhaps God is in a struggle, so that our prayer is equivalently, "Hope you win!" In other words, this phrase doesn't make much sense--if you just take it at its face value. But I think that the phrase does begin to make sense when ! begin to realize that, in using those words in prayer, I've taken a stand. Whether I join my will to his in prayer or not, his will is simply going to be done. What I am saying when I use those words is, "I want his will to be done. I 'want in' on the whole process. I want to be involved." And so there is a commitment of myself to the project when I say, "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done." Then the prayer begins to make sense because it takes me from the luxury of being a bystander and puts me right in the middle of things. It begins to make me hungry that his will be done. And then, in truth, it becomes the prayer of my heart. Then it becomes a real prayer--and a fruitful starting point for a reflection on the role of being superior. The problem is that the words come too easily. The problem is that I have grown up with the words, and I lose track of them, of what they say. The problem is that I have said them too often. I fiave gotten used to them. And so they lose the force they should have: that there is a great project afoot, and I want to be involved in it. And this, basically, is what this article on the role of 358 On Being a Superior / 359 / the superior is going to be about: God's will for the person who is superior in t the exercise of the office of being superior. For purposes of this article, I don't care about the sociology of leadership. I don't care about the psychological dimensions of community. And I certainly don't care about the canonical details of implementing the office. What I do care about is the~spiritual a___.__~sp.e__~c_t 9 fob_ei_.o.ng s__~up.e~r_ior, of getting a feel for the role of being a superior. I care about the conviction that one has in exercising the office of superior. Conviction is going to involve feeling, precisely because one's whole person is involved in the truth of what he is saying when he speaks or acts from conviction. What I would hope to evoke in the course of this article is a conviction, a felt truth, that locates the person, invests the person, identifies the person in what he knows. To this end, I would invite the person who is superior to share with me, through these pages, in a meditation. I.f we are going to make a meditation together, we ought to have a "com-position of place." For this, I have chosen Peter at the lakeside, after the Resurrection, when, according to John's gospel, Christ said to Peter, "Feed my sheep'." Just before this, he had asked Peter, "Do you love me more than these?" Isn't it a shame how cheap we have made the word "love" today? What does it mean to say, "I love you more than these"? The question is important because what is at issue is the building of a life on the love of God. But how do we know if we do love God? Is our confidence in our love go-ing to come out of our feelings? Well, for most of us, God isn't "real" enough for us to have very strong feelings about--except rarely. And probably in those moments, often enough, the individual is deluded. In point of fact, most of the days of my life, I don't feel love for God. How do I know, then, if I love him enough to be able to build a life on love? t/~ I f I love, I will do the work of love. I f love is there, the fruit of love will be there. If I am concerned about the things of the Lord, about him and his kingdom and his service and his glory, then I know I love. I don't care what I feel. I know I love, because the fruits of love are there. Even here, though, the issue is not all that clear, simply because I can also fake the fruits of love. I can ape them. I can do great and good things, noble and glorious things--without love. I can do them just because I am ambitious, or because I hate to leave things untidy and have a neurotic concern for neatness, or because I want to be noticed, or because I have career preferences, or because I have a developed sense of responsibility, or because the easiest way to be invisible is to be merely and conventionally competent since, if there are no problems in my sector, nobody is going to stick his nose into it--and that is what I want t'o be, invisible. What is done for any of these reasons does, I suppose, represent the "works of love," but these works stem out of my love for myself in one fashion or another, not out of my love for God. 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 In determining the presence or absence of the love of God, then, it is clear that the intention is going to be very important--not the expressed intention, but the real intention. And the real intention is in the heart and soul, lying under the words I use to express it. The grace of our meditation will be the grace not to be deaf to God's call, but prompt and diligent to do his most holy will. If being superior is a chore, a task for an individual, then that individual is going to fail. If it is not a work of love, then at best he will be merely a good administrator. At best, he will make the canonists happy. But if being a superior is a response to God's call, if there is an eagerness to be prompt and diligent to do his will, then the person will not be the performer of mere tasks: he will be a superior. 'From what has just been written, it is clear that I am convinced that being ¯ superior is a very definable, concrete, explicit vocation from Almighty God to a particular individual. In terms of this call, God says to those whom he sum-mons in this fashion, "Feed my sheep," which is the core reality of the voca-tion of being a superior. You see, being a superior is a vocation, a call from God. It is much more concrete than one's'~all to enter a congregation. It is more clearly defined than one's professional competence. In the present circumstance of the Church, superiors have a definite term: a beginning, a measurable beginning, middle, and end to this concrete call that they have. Their call includes definite areas of responsibility, rather more clear than in the usual run of job descriptions. The superior has a definite flock to be fed. Being a superior, then, is easily discernible. Is it really a call? We religious have a way of using all sorts of pious vocabulary with a great deal of conviction--so long as we are talking about somebody else. We have all attended at one time or another the circumstances of somebody else's tragedy, when it's easy for us to see that tragedy so clearly in terms of God's providence for them and for the victim. But when it comes to ourselves, somehow we find that our faith is rather more brittle. Too often for us religious, it is very easy to isolate "God's providence" into some abstract awareness of God as "Lord of History" because, for example, of what .he did to Israel, what he's done to the Church, what he's doing in the history of the world at the present time. Is God, though, Lord of your life? If he is Lord of yliofue,r then how can you explain the meaning of being superior, if not in terms of his Lordship? Is God faithful and loving? Because, if he is, how are you going to explain being superior save in terms of his faithful, loving exercise of Lordship in your regard? We can see how it gets to be a bit more difficult to be quite so confident of the "providence of God" when it begins to reach closer to home. It is much easier to see him as Lord of others than as Lord of myself. Does God care for the congregation? If he doesn't care for the congrega-tion, then he couldn't care less who was superior. If he does care for the con-d gregation, then he must care very much about who is superior--though this On Being a Superior does not mean at all that he has chosen the best possible person. It doesn't mean that he has chosen the most competent person. It doesn't even mean that he has chosen an able person. It just means that he has chosen a person. He has exer-cised a definite, deliberate choice in wanting you to be a superior of his com-munity for which he cares very much, in regard to which he says toyou, "Feed my sheep." It is time now to return to the reflection with which we begari regarding our earnestness for God's will. How earnest are we for God's will? Not out there, ~not in the future, but here and now. The,fact is that either God is not God at all, or he has call~ed you to b____~e a superior. If he has called you, he has expressed his will. You can choose to ignore it if you--want, but you cannot intelligently deny this fact without denying that God is God. b\ Being a superior is a vocation to do what? To feed his sheep in all the ways that make sense. His.sheep are workers in his vineyard, and the superior's feeding of his sheep is going to include nurturing their capacity to work in his vineyard--to be apostles. His sheep are your sisters or brothers in Christ. These are not vague groups of girls or boys that walk in the front door of an institution. These are your sisters or brothers in Christ, persons who have a call to the community that you say you love. These are the sheep that he has entrusted to you to be nourished by you. If all of this is true, then the only adequate approach to exercising the i office of superior is going to be as an act of religion. The alternative is to ex-clude God from your individual salvation history, the salvation history of your congregation, and the salvation history of the Church and world today. Therefore it follows that the key which unlocks the whole mystery of being a ~ superior is going to be found in the area of acts of religion--which is the same area that includes the taking of your vows in the first place. This is the same area, too, that envelops your whole prayer life. This is in the same area as your whole living for God. If this is true, then the individual is going to want to be a superior after the mind and thought and heart of Christ. His mode of being a superior is going to be the expression of his r~ligious involvement in God's will--or it is nothing. In seeking to make this act of religion real, the superior will make use of many aids to help him. But it is the act of religion that is going to give life to the whole process. So the superior will make use of whatever he can learn from management theory, from the psychology of the human person, from the sociology of community. He will make use of all these because they are tools given into his hands, tools that make it possible for him the better to enflesh into reality the act of religion that is his response to God's call. But if this religious response is not effectively there, if the soul of the pro-cess isn'~ present, all that's left is'a corpse. And no psychologist is ever going to make a corpse come alive. If all a superior does is to oversee the production of a corpse, then he would be better off seeking a position on a middle- 369 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 management level of some large corporation and make cars for the rest of his life. At least it would be a safer way of wasting his life; and he would only be touching others merely in their jobs. We religious like to talk a great deal about zeal. If you are serious about zeal, then you have to see in this call from God to be a superior a concrete way of enfleshing your zeal. Otherwise, you are going to be lost in a dreamland, phantasying about future generations of yet unborn souls whom you will "save" some time or other, some place or other. If you were serious about zeal, then you would be very much taken with God's will. If you were serious about his will, and thought that he was calling you, then your zeal would be a hunger to respond to his call, and he has called you to be a superior. In saying to you as superior, "Feed my sheep," he wants you to take unto yourself his sheep, those very special ones whom he has called in a very special way, and who, therefore, need a very special kind of nurtur- ~inagn,d he has sayiodu, You feed themsey sthheeapt, swo hat I have sown in their hearts may come alive." What we commonly see today is a great deal of reluctance on the part of } persons who are unwilling to become superiors for a variety of reasons. ~ From the beglnmng of time, but especially ~n the present age, a man would be out of his mind to want to be a superior. In fact, to want to be a superior is usually a guarantee of failure: not necessarily administrative failure, the failur--"~f-s~perficial effectiveness, but the substantive failure of one who, though called to be of and for Christ's kingdom, may live in exterior darkness, all the while doing great things with brick and mortar--and quite possibly destroying souls for the sake of his mere brick and mortar. So there is fear in the face of taking on such an office, and it is common today. Ther_e ar~t least tw_o~.possible_sources.of_this._~fear. One of them is healthy, eminently healthy, and the other is unhealthy. The healthy fear, I think, comes out of vision. The person who has this healthy fear, for instance, would usually have a fairly clear idea of what the founder wanted in starting the congregation. He has a pretty good idea of the value of a soul, and therefore also has a pretty good idea of the preciousness of each of those special souls called by God to religious life, and whom the superior is supposed to nurture in this vocation. In terms of such a vision, the person would have a very clear and distinct notion of the goal--not of the practicalities, but of priorities and purposes. A person with this kind of vision also recognizes that the vision is of God. And a person with that kind of clarity must see himself as unworthy. So he says, "No, not I. I can't do this." Now there are two t~ings that are healthy about that fear. One is that this sense of unworthiness comes out of self-knowledge of a sort that would arise ~when a person looks at himself against the background of such a vision. With this self-knowledge, in looking at the job, at what the call is, he is aware of his very real impotence; he has a sense of his utter helplessness. The other healthy aspect of such a fear flows precisely from this On Being a Superior / 3{}3 awareness: it is that the individual has a clear and distinct sense of one's need for God in responding to such a vocation. He cannot fulfill such a call, and therefore he would need God. Beingaware of his unworthiness, he has a very healthy desire not to be a superior--until it becomes clear that this call is truly from God. Then, retaining his sense of unworthiness, knowing that God chooses weak things of this world to achieve his purpose, the individual ac-cepts God's call and, in his need, turns to God. Such an individual truly has the spirit_of.a_superior's vocation. . Th~nheal~ the, but more common fear that has become particularly fre-quent" "--~---'---"-'-'during our time in religious life stems, for whatever reason, from a loss of vision, or, alas, from the fact that the individual never had a vision in the first place. When such a person is confronted with the job-requirements, he is often faced with something that is, for him, vague, blurred, unmanageable. He often asks, "What does obedience mean now? What do any of the vows mean now? What does the apostolate mean now? What does the vision of the congregation mean now?" And on, and on, and on. His fear is as blurred as is his sense of vocation itself. Without a vision, such a prospect for the office of superior does not look out to God's vineyard, but into the interior of the community. All he sees when he looks around is conflict, antagonism, varieties of resistance, burdens and crosses--and he wants no part of that kind of crucifixion. So, for his own security and comfort, he is afraid to be a superior. And that kind of fear, if the job is thrust upon him regardless, leads to paralysis, a paralysis that can find a variety of ways of expression. He can be .the do-nothing, the absolutely do-nothing type, who keeps his hands totally off everything except the signing of checks once a month--and this only if the treasurer has succeeded in making an appointment. Or he becomes the type who is only an~administrator. He becomes only the outside contact-person working with benefactors. He becomes only the friend of t

Issue 37.3 of the Review for Religious, 1978. ; Obedience in the Contemporary World Impassioned Presence: Religious Life and Leisure Cosmic Dimensions of the Eucharist Volume 37 ~ May 1978 : ' ~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1978 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. BOX 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May, 1978 Volume 37 Number 3 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review. should be sent to REWEW FOa I~L~OtJS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Ministry Rooted in the Vows Mary T. Rattigan, C.S.J. Sister Mary is presently director of the formation program in her province. She also teaches theology at St. John's University in Queens, NY. She resides at 39 Gifford Ave.; Jersey City, NJ 07304. Simply stated, ministry refers to the service rendered in the name of Jesus Christ. Such service is a faith-response to our being sent to continue the mission of Jesus in the world. At the moment, religious are experiencing new vistas of ministry being opened up to them. They also perceive their call to service as stemming directly from the acknowledgment and de-velopment of their gifts and talents. Current involvement in ministry, then, calls for an increased ability to discern individual gifts for service and an appreciation of emerging diversity in form and style. We are asked to keep in mind St. Paul's injunction: "There are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord, working in all sorts of different ways in different people . The particular way in which the.Spirit is given to each person is for a good purpose" (I Co 12:5-7). Regardless of its form, ministry can be broadly defined as those efforts directed to bringing the love and power of God to fruition in the world. Such efforts to build up the kingdom of God ultimately spring from a consciousness of the meaning of Christian mission. Hence, an understanding of ministry, which is normally the way mission is expressed, must be sought in the theology of mission. In the first place, mission theology pinpoints the Church's need to become a perfect sign of Christ in the world. It reminds us, moreover, that the whole Church, everywhere and in all its members, ismissionary. To be Christian and to be Church means to be "chosen" for service, to carry on the work of Christ in the world. It also places a heavy emphasis on the fact that although a 321 322 I Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 plurality of ministries exists, there is only one mission--the mission of the risen Jesus. This single mission; which has been entrusted to the members of his Church, is said to incorporate three elements. First, we share in this mission when we announce the new life received in Christ which makes the love and power of God available here and now. Second, acceptance of this mission demands that our life-style give credibility to this announcement. This requires a witness to the process of being personally transformed by the love and power of God. Third, we are invited to extend God's love and power by our actions so that the kingdom may be realized to a greater extent in history. From the the~ology of mission, then, it is possible to delineate the essential features of a life of service. And, to the extent a sense of mission becomes a personal reality for us, we can experience a reason for being "sent" and an urgency to respond to the kingdom-vision. Both a growing consciousness of the meaning of mission and the de-velopment of multiple forms of ministry are demanding that a second look be given to the evangelical vows. These factors, among others, are forcing religious to face the question of how the vows commit them to ministry. The need to understand the vowed life in relation to ministry is especially felt by those actively engaged in combating social injustice. The call to work for justice, equality and peace is demanding an articulation of the vows which is consonant with the social mission of the Church. By the same token, religious are wondering whether new aspects of the vows might not be emerging as they seek to confront the issues of justice, peace and equality. In either case, an understanding of the vowed life in the context of mission and ministry is deemed extremely important at this point of time. In fact,. a more adequate theology of religious life cannot be expected until an examination of the vows in .relation to ministry is undertaken. Apostolic religious have a heed to deepen their insights into the vows as a renewal of their baptismal commitment to service, to conceive of themselves as a community with a "commission" that shares the Church's mission re-sponsibility, and to think of religious profession as the public acceptance of ¯ this mandate to mission. The reflections which follow are intended to in-crease our understanding of the role of the vows in ministry, whether that ministry occurs within the Christian community itself or in society at large. Another Look at the Vows Religious have traditionally expressed their response to the call of dis-cipleship through the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. Until Vatican II, a certain clarity of understanding and expectation accompanied the evangelical life. But all too often in the past, the expression of the vows was equated with certain kinds of behavior, such as using material goods, abstaining from genital sexuality, and listening to the superior. With the renewal of religious life, however, the interpretation of the vows began to shift. Developments in theology, psychology and the social sciences forced Ministry Rooted in the Vows / 323 traditional notions of the vows to be placed under severe scrutiny. For more than a decade now, serious questioning and confusion have surfaced over the relevance of the vowed life to contemporary society. The ambiguity which surrounds the present living of the vowed life is multifaceted. Un-certainty has emerged as to whether the vows themselves constitute one's religious consecration. Objection has been voiced over the traditional vocabulary still employed for the vows. Doubt has also arisen regarding their very number, with the attendant suggestion that a single, more com-prehensive term be used to designate the commitment to religious life. The complexity of the situation is brought to even sharper focus when divergent interpretations are includedin the picture. Some perspective can be gained, however, when we recall that the internal thrust of the early years of renewal, with its intensely personalistic and communal concerns, perme-ated most attempts to rethink the vows. In retrospect we can appreciate the emphasis which had to be placed on calling forth individual religious to fuller personhood and responsibility. We also realize that community life demanded that interpersonal relationships be fostered and that new struc-tures of authority and government be adopted. But religious have now reached the point of desiring that their vows be perceived as integrally related to mission, as giving expression to their call to minister in Jesus' name. While much study remains to be done on the relation of vowsto the personal and communal aspects of our life, consideration must presently be given to the strongly sensed need to relate the vows more concretely to the apostolic or service dimension of religious life. The desire to seek ways of living the vows which will best express the call to mission can be recognized from the type of question being asked: What contribution can the vows make toward a more effective realization of the mission of Jesus in the world today? In what way do the vows enable religious to be effective ministers of the gospel, particularly in the area of social justice? It may be asked, why the current trend to relate the vows to mini~stry? Why do religious feel challenged to examine the vows as a source from which true ministry can flow? It i.s significant, I believe, that the renewed interest in the vows occurs at a time when religious have already given considerable attention to the spiritual resources needed for ministry. They have opted, for the most part, for a more intense personal spirituality. In an effort to reaffirm the importance of a deep prayer life, they are actively pursuing the charismatic movement, directed retreats, continued spiritual direction, and so forth. In line with this interest in spirituality, attention now focuses on the vows as spiritual resources which can be brought to bear on a life of service. As the thirst for spirituality extends itself to the vows, it represents a search for both a depth-dimension to life and a greater sense of integration. This depth-dimension can be characterized as a rootedness or centeredness which will serve to ground our apostolic ser-vice. The vows hold out the promise ofeffecting a sense of rootedness since 324 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 they encapsule basic orientations arid values which, if explicated and claimed as one's own, can provide roots o.r centering. Besides seeking deeper roots for service, religious are taking a fresh look at the vows out of a need to experience a greater degree of integration. They are led to wonder in what sense the vows can be considered an integrative force. Faced with a frequent sense of disharmony and discrepancy in ministry, they are led to inquire about the ability of the vows to "make whole." In other words, can the vows act as a unifier between the vision proposed by ministry and the reality actually achieved? In a world where it is ex-ceedingly difficult to experience any synthesis or integration, religious feel that the vowed life deserves to be reappraised for its integrating impact on their lives. Assumed in the quest for integration, however, is the underlying assumption that the vows cannot be viewed as external to service. Any authentic living of the vows will consist of ministering to the needs of others, especially those who are victims of injustice and oppression. We turn now to consider the spiritual resources offered by the vows when ministry is conceived as the presence of God's love and power in the world. Ministry as Presence One way to look at ministry is to regard it as presence. As the word is used here, presence is synonymous with the term sacrament taken in its broadest meaning. As an expression of mission, the object of ministry is to be a sign of God's transforming love and power. One who ministers is seen to be a symbol through which the God-life received in Jesus is embodied. The form which this kind of ministry takes is that of leading others to experience the divine element in their own lives and of bringing this to fuller expression. Ministry as sacramental, then, is concerned with fostering a response to the transforming love and power of God at work in the world. As a participation in the mission of Jesus, ministry partakes of the very mystery which marked the mission and ministry of Jesus himself. In this regard, St. John's gospel offers a clarification of the nature of this mission, and consequently, contributes towards an understanding of ministry as presence. The chief work of Jesus, as presented by the fourth evangelist, lies essentially in revealing the Father's love and power: "To have seen me is to have seen the Father" (Jn 14:9). The concept of ministry espoused here centers on Jesus being the presence of God in the world. Important for us, however, is the promise which accompanies this revelation for those who believe: ". to perform the same work as I do myself" (Jn 14:12). As the perfect image of the Father, Jesus gives his Spirit so that we may enjoy a similar relationship to God, and thus share his likeness of being a revelation of God in the world. Despite our limitations, we have been commissioned to be sacraments of the transforming love and power of God. This is the great mystery of ministry--a mystery which the vows help to disclose. Still further reinforcement for viewing ministry as presence is found in the fourth Ministry Rooted in the Vows / 395 gospel with the recorded statement of Jesus: ". I consecrate myself for their sakesnow, that they may be consecrated in truth" (Jn 17:19). Central to this Johannine emphasis is his notion of truth, which means to "make holy." Jesus himself is the truth, the holiness of God visibly manifested. His mission is to effect a greater possession of the truth which he is. Judged in this light, discipleship becomes a mandate to bear the message of the Father's love in our life. To be consecrated in truth, therefore, implies a process whereby the love and power of God can become enfleshed in us~a process which designates our apostolic mission: to make visible the presence of God in the world. From this perspective, ministry rests on the conviction that our life itself, which is a primary form of presence, is meant to be shared with those around us. It summons us to be vehicles of God's transforming love and power. Above all else, then, a ministry of presence asks that we witness to life in its transcendent dimension. The religious consecration of perpetual chastity, in particular, conveys a presence which elicits belief in the mystery of God's transforming love and power. This becomes possible when being unmarried for the sake of the kingdom is understood for what it actually encompasses. As St. Paul indicates, an unmarried woman "can devote herself to the Lord's affairs." His reason for extolling virginity, however, stems from the fact that she can give her "undivided attention to the Lord" (1 Co 7:32-35). All too often this passage has been interpreted solely in terms of the availability which religious possess for apostolic activity. But suggested by this Pauline directive is a relation of intimacyma relation characteristic of those who have allowed the love and power of God to come to fruition in their lives. Seen in this light, chastity commits re-ligious to deepen their own relationship to the Lord, and to undertake the task of concretizing this love in their relations with others. The goal of vowed chastity is judged to be concomitant with the witness called for in ministry--a witness to the mystery of God's transforming love and power. To remain celibate for the sake of the kingdom is itself a sign, and one which inserts religious into the very heart of mystery. It signifies a mystery not only to those we serve but it also continues to be an enigma even for those who have embraced it. The vow of chastity provides a way of saying concretely with our life something of the mystery which must be. accepted by all persons, namely, we are made to live in and for mystery, particularly its eschatological aspect--the final destiny which brings this mystery to fulfillment. Its witness might well be to offer others the opportunity to question their lives, what is the meaning of their lives, their goal. Quite simply, this becomes possible when religious cause others to wonder why. To be a catalyst for eliciting these questions requires that our life-style palpably express a personal consecration to the mystery of God's trans-forming love and power. Consequently, a ministry of presence is concerned with the values and attitudes which we embody in our relationships with 326 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 others. Granted this, the challenge facing religious is whether people around us can even glimpse the mystery of God's transforming power from the way we live. both as individuals and as communities. It must be asked, too, whether we facilitate the possibility of others arriving at a fuller sense of themselves as vessels of God's presence in the world. Since a ministry of presence centers on personal relationships, it places a high priority on the kind of.person we are rather than on any works we may perform. To what extent, then, does the vowed life enable this focus of our personhood to be reflected in our service? One instance worth noting is the way the vows help religious to go beyond the "performance principle." In a culture which tends to judge persons according to the efficiency with which they execute tasks, it is extremely difficult to maintain the primacy of personhood. Vowed chastity can foster the possibility of our being person-oriented. By refusing to be defined by our work or achievements, we can offer a chal-lenge to the pragmatic strain underlying our culture. When we identify ourselves in terms of our relationships, we should be in a better position to view others in terms of who they are rather than what they accomplish. To strike a happy balance between a life of presence and a task-oriented one is no easy achievement. In the interests of reality, the vows should at least prevent our service from being dominated by the standard of efficiency-- despite the fact that our service must indeed be efficient and competent. In connection with a work-ethic, a certain "market-orientation" can easily creep into the ministry of religious. Such marketable elements as success, relevance, prestige, and income should not form the criteria for apostolic service. Neither a choice of ministry nor a judgment regarding its effectiveness should be made on the basis of popularity, remuneration, low-risk factors, or other marketable values. In this regard, both the vows of poverty and obedience, as steps taken in faith, have a great deal to do with ministry. They offer a direction and a challenge to the choices we make and to the attitudes we espouse. The recent association of vowed poverty with work, the fact that religious are "subject to the common law of labor," serves to illustrate how a market-orientation might become operative for us. Since Vatican II, as we know, poverty has shifted from limiting the use of possessions to the consent of the superior to earning one's own living and aiding the poor with one's resources. Because of this expectation that they be self-supporting, religious might find themselves choosing an area of service based on remuneration. Also, in view of the growing elderly population in religious communities, they might feel pressured into ac-cepting a form of ministry which would contribute to the financial support of the community. Whatever the reasons, religious must at least recognize the subtle temptation posed by the exhortation to earn one's own living. Vowed obedience, which is concerned with the choices we make, demands a prayerful discernment regarding our motives for service. It asks that our choices proceed from values clearly based in the gospel. When we seek the Ministry Rooted in the Vows / 327 Spirit's direction for engagement in ministry, obedience makes it incumbent upon us to see that apostolic choices are not subjected to market values. The vowed life, then, is meant to root ministry in its transcendent and relational dimensions. And the concept of personal presence allows us to perceive the dynamic relationship which exists between ministry and the vows. While ministry refers primarily to the presence or sacramental em-bodiment of God's love and power in the world, it must also bear the marks of suffering love. To ~vitness to God's transforming presence requires that we undergo the sufferings inherent to bringing the kingdom of-God to a fuller realization. Ministry as Suffering Love Suffe.ring love is the h'allmark of Christian ministry. This kind of love demands some explanation due to the recent emphasis on personalism and fulfillment in religious life. Clarification is also needed because the word suffering is ordinarily thought in terms of pain of mind or body, or as bearing the consequences of some illness or wrongdoing. At times it even conjures up a kind of self-sacrifice typical of the past which is now seen as destructive to personal growth and holiness. As the term is used here, suffering refers to the capacity to be acted upon, to be changed or moved by another. Suffering love means that we allow persons and events to enter our life so as to shape the response we make. It implies a vulnerability which results from permitting our actions to be defined by what the°other requires. When our ministry takes its shape from the needs around us, it opens the door to true empathy and compassion in serving others. Person~il conflictl, adjustment, and denial will necessarily flow from this kind of loving, thereby contradicting a common misunderstanding that love always results in personal satisfaction. Suffering love is none other than the reverse side of self-giving love. Both aspects of love constitute the true nature of personalism. Otherwise, we have a pseudo-personalism which calls for the giving of our personal being but does not allow usto be transformed by our relations with others. For ministry, suffering love means that interdepen-denc~ and reciprocity will mark the experience of truly serving others. Those WhO minister must have the capacity both to receive and to give, the willingness to be shaped as well as to create. Suffering love can best be understood in the context of the mission of Jesus. Although we tend to equate Jesus' sufferings solely with the events surrounding the crucifixion, the gospels reveal that his sufferings resulted from the demands which love made upon him. His identification with the poor and outcasts, his contention with evil in its many forms, and his assistance to the sick and infirm are but a few examples of how Jesus allowed persons and events to elicit the kind of response needed. In a very real sense, then, his response was shaped by his ministry in that he allowed himself to be moved by the other, to take in the truth of each situation. As 328 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 a consequence, his suffering love became the sign of his vocation to es-tablish the kingdom, of his love for the Father and for all persons. The suffering involved in taking in the needs of others and responding ac-cordingly had i~ndeed the power to communicate love and to effect a new bond or communion with those to whom he ministered. Ultimately, it can be said that Jesus~ sufferings resulted from fidelity to the mission he had received. The vulnerability entailed in his being faithful exemplifies an actiye suffering rather than a patient submission to fate. In other words, Jesus suffered because of what he stood for, because of his message and deeds. For us, too, the witness entailed in ministry will be the personal vulnerability of suffering love. In this sense, the vows, particularly obe-dience, have implications for ministry. Of the three vows, obedience seems to exert little influence on our day-to-day service. Often it is relegated to community life or to situations which involve a change of ministry. It is possible, however, to view the vow of obedience from a much broader p.erspective, namely, as a participation in Jesus' vocation to suffering love. This notion finds support in The Epistle to the Hebrews where we find obedience and suffering linked together. Speaking of Jesus, the author notes: "Although he was Son, he learned to obey through suffering.'" (5:8). As the word "learned" indicates, Jesus" obedience was chara~:terized by personal growth, and this process of growth extended over his lifetime. Also connoted by growth in obedience through suffering is an active re-ception of all that his ministry entailed as well as an intensely personal struggle. As the temptations suggest, Jesus was no stranger to the human longing for control and power over his own destiny in that he wrestled with the possibility of adopting a messianic role which would effect a more "successful" ministry. The obedience of religious, like that of Jesus, consists in being faithful to our mission of service. It rests on a vision of faith which sees persons and events as indicators of the kind of response we ought to make in a given situation. To labor with Christ today requires that we undergo a similar e.xperience of suffering love, with its active reception of struggle and mis-understanding. Listening to the direction of the Spirit and enduring the t~nsions which are part and parcel of ministry are avenues which will open tis up to growth in faithful obedience. Because of the long-suffering in-volved in learning obedience, sporadic attempts will be less than adequate. Only a constant adherence to one's mission of service will suffice as a witness to this dimension of suffering love. As we engage in ministry, moreover, we can expect to deal with the temptation to dull the kingdom-yision. Perhaps one of the surest signs of participating in the mission of Jesus is that we experience a sense of being "stretched" beyond ourselves. If we are truly ministering we can expect the frustration and tension which accompanies all service, namely, the tension between the vision and the actuality, between the yet-to-be-fulfilled aspect of the kingdom and its Ministry Rooted in the Vows / 329 present degree of actualization. Because of our basic yearning for com-pletion and satisfaction, we find it difficult to live with brokenness, un-finished business, to be forever simply "on the way." At times we are tempted to adopt a "messianic complex," thereby relating to the world around us in god-like fashion. In so doing, we would seek to take things into our own hands, to manage and control their outcome, and to set up our own standards for judging the effectiveness of our actions. The vows help to remind us that we have been called to work for the extension of God's'reign of love, and that it is.God who gives the increase. Quite pointedly, suffering love brings us face-to-face with the deepest mystery of ministry, that of being servants of the kingdom. Because the ministry of suffering love requires a critical evaluation of our vulnerability and creative receptivity, the vow of poverty has an important role to play. Specifically, vowed poverty asks that we be open with respect to the form or expression which our ministry takes. It calls us out of any sense of self-sufficiency which might accompany a competency achieved. A sense of self-sufficiency in ministry can only prove to be distracting. Far too much energy can be expended in effortsto protect positions of real or imagined importance. This proclivity for being self-sufficient is most clearly evidenced in the resentment of newcomers for the threat they pose to our replace-ment. When. driven by a fear of loss, whether in status or in replacement, we begin to.operate at a low-risk level. When grasped by a sense of pos-sessiveness, we undertake only those activities which are considered safe, those which ensure prestige or eliminate competition. Vowed poverty, therefore, enjoins us to assess those sources of security which we may have erected for ourselves. It asks that subtle forms of self-worship such as success and prestige be unmasked for what they truly are. Because pos-sessiveness impedes the kind of vulnerability demanded by suffering love, religious poverty asks that we assume a posture of tentativeness with re-spect to the form which our ministry takes. Such tentativeness presupposes a willingness to let go of the security of the past in order to move into the future. In some cases, the risk involved in remaining flexible will result in a call to a new form of ministry or to a modified response in our present ministry. In any case, a radical trust and dependence upon the loving power of God is being called fourth in us as we search for the particular expression our ministry should assume. The vulnerability required~by suffering love also finds nourishment in vowed chastity. The "mystical" dimension of chast!ty, with its faith-decision to embrace the non-rational or mysterious aspect of life, exacts an acceptance of the fact that life can be neither totally controlled nor ultimately possessed. Of its very nature, vowed chastity leads to risk, to the unpredictable, and to the unknown. It beckons us to love with an openness which prevents intrusions and other forms of in-conveniences from being regarded as impingements upon our "projected plans" for service. In its "social" dimension, vowed chastity is also an 330 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 important asset for ministry. To the extent we have personally embraced a non-possessive stance towards life, we can expect to be non-threatening persons. Those in our presence should not find it necessary to draw upon their defenses, to play games or to put on false facades. By a simple and vulnerable life-style, religious can become disarming persons, those who grant others the freedom to be who they truly are. Consequently an at-mosphere can be created which maximizes the acceptance and contribution of personal gifts and talents, thus paving the road to ministry becoming a mutual venture between those who serve and those who are served. Ministry Rooted in Freedom Both views of ministry being addressed here--ministry as presence and ministry as suffering love--will necessarily engage us in the struggle to attain a greater degree of Christian freedom. And Jesus, as the paradigm of this freedom, offers us the model. When we meditate on the gospels we find that he ministered in a way that freed others, that empowered and enabled them. For example, Mary Magdalene and the Samaritan woman were en-abled to accept the seeds of new life which had come within their reach. In such cases, Jesus used his power to empower others. If we are t6 engage in a life-giving ministry, we must be freed from those obstacles which hinder this kind of service from occurring. The vowed life, understood in the sense of personal liberation, can be said to foster the freedom needed for ministry. First of all, how does the vow of poverty free us to serve in a life-giving manner? As we know, evangelical poverty does not center on either economic status or material deprivation. For apostolic religious, the vitality of one's service, with its attendant signs of peace and joy, has always been intrinsically linked to evangelical poverty. Poverty implies a freedom from ourselves (detachment) and a single-heartedness (attach-ment) for the service of God's kingdom. Stated in other words, poverty aims at a self-emptying so that we can devote everything that we are and have to others. By a voluntary limitation of possessions and other forms of self-sufficiency, a self-emptying ensues which places us in a situation of being poor, namely, of being ultimately dependent upon God's love and power. Inner freedom, which is a goal of vowed poverty, comes from placing our- trust in God rather than in our own resources. Its specific apostolic witness consists in having chosen to have less than we could .have attained. In so doing, we can demonstrate our belief that the kingdom of God is not dependent upon success in the areas of prestige, possessions or power. Vowed poverty, it is hoped, should also free religious to give a fuller response to Jesus" injunction: "You have received without paying; you must give without charge" (Mt 10:8). As we come to a greater awareness of our God-given gifts, we should be enabled to give of ourselves, in par-ticular, to share our talents, education, time and psychic energy. The freedom for ministry which vowed chastity promotes is thai of Ministry Rooted in the Vows / 331 non-possessiveness. In vowing chastity, we promise to eradicate the strong natural desire to restrict our love and concern to those claiming a priority through family or friendship. At times, we are even called to love without reciprocity. In such cases, we are asked to love those persons not in a position to respond to the love we offer, the fearful, the lonely, and thee voiceless minority in society. In a positive sense, then, vowed chastity facilitates the freedom needed to develop multirelationships, to move be-yond our personal propensity for exclusive and reciprocal relationships. Because all relationships are fragile, but specifically those demanded by vowed chastity, a freedom is needed to sustain them and keep them from deteriorating into avenues of self-aggrandizement. If our ministry is not to turn into a forum where unfulfilled personal needs are ventilated, we must be in touch with our own drives and needs. In fact, only when such personal ¯ needs as the desire to be the center of attention or the need to exercise control over the lives of others have been acknowledged, can we bracket them in order to address the needs of others. The basis for freedom in ministry also lies in vowed obedience. Often ministry is not experienced as life-giving because of our insensitivity to the gifts which others possess. All too easily we become oblivious to the po-tential of others and succumb to our own myopic view. Religious obe-dience, on the other hand, implies a freedom to experience the world around us so that persons and events can mediate the kind of response called for-in ministry. In this way, our ministry will be able to align itself more closely in both form and content to the spiritual, social and political needs of the people we serve. Vowed obedience, a pledge to carry out the mission of Jesus in a public manner, requires that our decisions be aug-mented by a faith-vision. As the gospels indicate, Jesus never did his "own thing," but sought to do his Father's will. In a special way, obedience can prevent us from acting out of impulse, mood or selfishness if we bring our choices to the authority which resides in the community for ratification. In so doing, obedience will direct the choices we make and free us to under-take with hope and courage the service which faith identifies with the will of God. Reciprocal Relation of Ministry and Vows Ministry and religious vows can be said to exert a reciprocal influence on each other. Engagement in ministry offers a challenge to the vowed life, and likewise, the vows provide for a deeper immersion into ministry. One way this reciprocal relation of vow and ministry is being experienced today is through the call to stewardship. As a matter of justice, Christians are being asked to exercise responsible stewardship regarding the resources of the world. The concept of stewardship, which is based on the idea that the world's resources do not belong absolutely to any individual, group, nation, or generation holds that resources should be viewed as gifts received and 332 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 entrusted to our use and care. As such, it calls for a sharing which stems from a consciousness of the common good and a concern that the poor can participate in these available resources. Although the notion of stewardship is directed mainly to the resources of food and energy, it can be extended to include a much broader sphere. Stewardship and its consequent sharing can be applied to all the gifts of life which have been entrusted to us, whether they be talents, time, or psychic energy. Certainly, a life-style which incorporates the right use of material resources as well as a voluntary limitation of material goods is a need in today's world. The concept of stewardship, then, can find a valuable source of support in vowed poverty. The question is: will religious place the "sharing and sparing" aspects of their life in relation to the wider social issue of justice? Put in other words, how can our sharing and sparing be increased to bring about a more sig-nificant social witness? Just as the social demands of ministry can contribute to a greater under-standing of the vowed life, so too, a lived experience of the vows can enhance our vision of ministry. Involvement in ministry, as we have noted, immerses us in the paradox of discipleship. And like any paradox, the tension involved is difficult to maintain. Although not a condition for dis-cipleship, nevertheless, the vows are gifts given to realize this end. In fact, the values symbolized in the commitment of the vows are those which are basic to ministry itself. They designate a life committed to the kingdom, and hence, call for a transformation from our old self, with its attitudes, ways of thinking and acting. When the vows are perceived in terms of the trans-formation required by discipleship, they can then be translated into a life-style consonant with the call of ministry. A truly powerful means of witnessing to God's transforming power in the world is offered to those called to love as celibates for the sake of the kingdom, to live in a simple and sharing fashion, and to be obedient to finding ways of serving others. Obedience in the Contemporary World Alan W. Jones Father Jones is an Episcopal priest, a director of the Center for Christian Spirituality; 175 9th Ave.; New York, NY 10011. His paper was delivered before a meeting of the Episcopal religious Order of the Holy Cross. l was beset with an absurdity in attempting to deal with the subject of obedience. For one thing, I am not particularly obedient, and yet I am going to attempt to tell religious what the structure of their obedience ought to be, vis-a-vis the world and the coming realities. What rescues me from these absurdities is the fact that what I am really doing is telling you religious what I want you to be for me, for the sake of the Church, for the sake of the world. Underneath my prescriptive approach there is, in reality, a cry for help. You religious, my fellow Christians, are desperately important to me. Forgive me, then, if I begin with an apparent insult used to describe religious life. "Monks are like bacteria. Bacteria live in communities, but by their increase in numbers they produce a by-product (as acid in milk) which ¯ inhibits their increase and eventually kills them. Now community living is a most economical way of living, and religion is the greatest money-spinner on earth; so monasteries get rich, and if the riches are not allowed to flow on to the poor, the community begins to stagnate and becomes, like a bacterial colony, a prey to its own by-product.''~ ICiaran O'Sabhaois, "Community in the Early Irish Church," in Cistercian Studies, Vol. X, 1975:1, p. 67. 333 334 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 Monks are like bacteria. All forms of community life have their dan-gers~ not merely the danger of becoming rich (that might seem remote today), but also the danger of becoming inward, self-regarding, and self-sustaining. I want to share with you some thoughts on modern monasticism, centering on the question of religious obedience. I will argue that Christian obedience is at the heart of Christian liberation and that obedience in the religious life is a symbol, for the sake of the Church, of the freedom we are all to enjoy as sons and daughters of God. Obedience is a Matter of Surrender: Saying "Yes!" to God To put it simply: obedience is a matter of surrender, submission, abandonment to Someone or Something. It is, first and foremost, a question of yielding, of saying "Yes!." It is, therefore, related closely to questions concerning our sense of identity (who we are) and the object of our worship (God, or the gods). That is to say, who we are will depend on the object of our surrender. When you "have finally said "Yes!" to Someone or Some-thing, then who you really are begins to emerge. So obedience is tied up with both problems of identity and objects of worship. It is also bound up with the search for intimacy, for union. Obedience is a matter of love. It is, therefore, of vital importance that we Christians be extremely sensitive and careful in matters of obedience. To say yes to the wrong things is to embark on a course of action which will infect the total life. Like the bacterial colony, the religious community in surrendering to anything less than God begins to suffocate, become paralyzed, and will eventually die. Christian obedience is right worship. Misplaced obedience is idolatry. And idolatry is the path of death. Our theme, then, is an enormously heavy and complex one which involves the very core of our being. Awareness, identity, intimacy, and worship: all these things are involved in our under-standing of obedience and will affect the way the Christian community is structured and organized. Obedience is the Means of Heightening Awareness I want to begin by looking at the structures of Christian obedience as such with no peculiar reference to those called to religious life. Christian obedience (listening to, being under, being formed by the Word) is the means of heightening Christian awareness, which in turn undermines our former sense of identity and turns who we thought we were upside down. The pattern is, obedience (i.e., listening), awareness--transformation of identity. Our mission in the world is determined by who we are and not only that, who we think we are. Our "novitiate" is the beginning at least of the undermining of our self-image and the reforging of a new identity. There are tremendous dangers because there are countless people who would like to tell us who we are. There are many, many forms, some very subtle, of psychological and spiritual tyrannies. The evil of misplaced religion in Obedience in the Contemporary Worm / 335 general is its tendency to tell people who they are and what to do. This is the tendency of those who talk about obedience. To be Obedient is to Listen to Someone: Christian obedience is to listen to the Word of God and to be formed by the Word that has been heard. This Word comes to us in the communal, convivial experience of scripture, of the eucharist, and of the community. It is a common obedience: not a private obedience. All other forms of obedience are derivative--religious obedience, obedience to the superiors, to bishops, to those in authority. There are peculiar dangers, however, for those who are committed tO a life of the discipline of prayer. Prayer continually relativizes our obedience. That is to say, prayer is always a movement towards a higher allegiance, a deeper obedience, a more intense "Yes!." As such, it puts a question mark beside all our lesser obediences. Taking as our model the religious, he is, ex professo, the person who prays and is therefore explicitly a symbol of the highest obedience. It is not that other Christians are not called to this obedience; it is that the monk symbolizes in a palpable way my obedience, the obedience evoked in all Christians. That is why I have need of the monk, why I have need of you, my brothers and sisters, to be true to your vow of obedience which is rooted in contemplation. Prayer and contemplation (how comforting they sound!), however, can seem to be subversive activities of the human spirit. They threaten our shallow allegiances, our easy "Yes!" to the merely penulti-mate things, to the things of this present age which are passing away. This is why the "no~,itiate" has to be reasonably rigorous because the monastic life brings with it the kind of "consciousness-raising" which only those who have been tested can tolerate. The pattern of monastic life, if it is not to degenerate into a sickening enslavement, is geared towards height-ened awareness: of God, of others, and of self; and heightened awareness always threatens and undermines our self-understanding. New insights challenge our present sense of identity. To be unaware of God, of others, and of ourselves is to deny any growth in identity and, in the end, such a denial turns everything sour, like the activity of bacteria in milk. To be unaware is to be unfree, to be enslaved. To be aware is to live with the mystery and terror of an ever-growing and developing identity. In critical and conflict situations th~ lesger obediences come into' play and we lapse into idolatry. The religious is peculiarly prone either to sur-render himself to the order, the community, the society, or to be trapped in the illusions of his own self-will. The .choice, for us too, seems to be slavery to the System or slavery to the unredeemed ego. We live in a time of conflict and where there is conflict, awareness is diminished. In a crisis, the pressure is there for us to caricature ourselves as well as our enemies. We may develop a strong sense of identity, but it is not based on awareness but on illusion, on a lesser obedience. This kind of caricaturing has be-deviled the movement towards genuine renewal. The labels we pin on our 336 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 brothers and sisters often reflect a low sense of awareness with a strong sense of identity.2 Obedience is a Matter of Identity Much of the discussion concerning "the state of the Church" and the monastic vows has centered on external things. We have tended to be technological rather than scientific. "It is technology--the technique of doing thingsnrather than science--the art of understanding things--that prevails.''3 One of the functions of the monastic vow of obedience vis-h-vis the modern world is to challenge us With this higher obedience, to stretch our self-understanding to the limit, to be a sign of contradiction against our impoverishment and diminishment as human beings. Monastic obedience challenges me to believe that there is more of me than I have dreamed: so much more. To do this, the monk's identity must be secure in the highest obedience. This involves a common life capable always of reforming itself, capable always of daring to raise and face ultimate questions. The monastic rule is the charter of freedom for those men and women who,for the sake of the worM, live constantly on the edge of the future. In theological terms, the monastic call is to be the people of the eschaton, for the sake of others. This requires a peculiar resilience which, in the end, cannot be a matter of personal worth or inner strength. It is a matter of faith. The monk or the nun, insofar as he or she is "successful," is an example of the triumph of grace over nature! The "bad" religious, the "bad" priest, is one who manages to combine a low sense of awareness with a strong sense of belonging. It is manifest in the classic monastic sin of acedia, "the sickness that destroyeth in the noonday." Dante talks somewhere of "the sullen, lazy smoke within the heart." The religious, the priest, in short, has missed the focus of his obedience; his awareness is diminished, and his identity, false. The highest obedience of which the contemplative life is the highest manifestation means that we give penultimate significance to everything and yet acknowledge that it is through these penultimate things that the Ultimate comes to us. This is freedom: hold to Christ and, for the rest, be totally uncommitted! We are obedient to superiors, to bishops, to the com-munity, for the.sake of the Church. These lesser obediences are the means by which, in a world of time and space, of partial insight, and distorted vision, we express our higher obedience. It is a constant rhythm of re-pentance, of metanoia, of turning, of critical self-examination. Benedict Clarkson writes, To some extent, we are all frightened to question our religious beliefs, because we are fearful that such questioning will take away from our lives all truth and meaning. Yet ~See Adam Curie's Mystics and Militants, Tavistock Publications, Ltd. (London, 1972). 31bid., p. 7. Obedience in the Contemporary World / 3:37 if our religious convictions are to become mature and intelligent, there must be, in this sphere as in all others of our lives, a critical self-examination. It is necessary for growth in faith. The more certain we are about our religious convictions, the freer we shall be to test them . The alternative to not dotibting our faith, not questioning our vocation, is immaturity. Research done by G. Allport showed that those who accepted their religion and their vocation too unrefiectingly and too uncritically tended to react in an unequally critical way to Iheir fellowmen and to political issues. When one's religion is unquestioned, one's values become institutionalized, exclusive and self-centered, and this can hinder growth in contemplation which is simple gaze.4 Obedience is a Matter of Saying "Yes!" to Others and to Ourselves The '~Yes!" we make to God in Christ makes possible our acceptance of ourselves and others, and fosters growth. Obedience, the saying of yes to the wholly Other who is God is a means of self-actualization. Maslow outlines twelve observable characteristics of people who are growing as human beings? Two of them are of particular interest here: an increase in problem centering and an increased identification with the human species. "Problem centering" is an unfortunate phrase because it suggests the kind of person who is always concerned about his problems. In fact it is meant to suggest quite the opposite. "Problem centered people" are those who have a mission, a problem outside of themselves. "They seem to see every-thing sub specie aeternitatis, in the widest frame of reference, and this imparts a certain bigness, a lack of pettiness or care for trivialities. It gives them a serenity and a freedom from worry over immediate concerns, and this makes their lives easier both for themselves and for all associated with " them.' '~ One hopes that this is a characteristic of Christian spirituality and a result springing from our common obedience. Maslow's second point is equally important: "increased identification with the human species." Obe-dience to Christ in common life liberates us and enables us freely to love our brothers and sisters. Maslow's word for this is GemeinschaftsgeJ~hl, which is this feeling for community, not only in the larger sense, but also the feeling that exists between two people. It is the sense of being at one with others. Pope Paul VI wrote, "The Church urges monks to be present to man-kind in a more profound way, namely in the heart of Christ. It expects them to share the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of this age."7 This is a marvelous rationale for the existence of religious in the moder~ world. Obedience becomes the way in which religious express this Gemein-schaftsgef~ hl. By virtue of their profession, religious orders contribute to 4"The Rule of St. Benedict and the Concept of Self-Actualization,'" in Cistercian Studies, Vol. X., 1975: 1, p. 24-25. 5Ibid., p. 24. ~lbid., p. 28. 7Quoted, ibid., p. 30. 338 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 the life of the world simply by being intensely present. The religious in his obedience to common life helps to keep human life human by the giving of hospitality. This hospitality is the ministry of presence. It is the creation of what Henri Nouwen calls "a free and friendly space.''8 The modern world is crying out for such space and you are the ones called to create it. The relentless reaffirmation of your obedience in liturgy, in order, in common life, creates this space and gives you, ahd countless others like you, the space to live and breathe. I know monks and nuns too well to idolize them, but the monastic, warts and all, points away from the success-oriented, utilitarian culture which is destroying me and tells me there is more, much more. The needs of the modern world demand more of the monk or nun, of the priest, of the Christian, than ever before. We can no longer hide our identity in community, in status, if we are to create a free and friendly space. The idea th~it the Christian life embodies a fixed tradition which is beyond question must go, along with a concept of religious obedience involving blind submission to a superior. This, however, is not the danger confronting the Church today. Nowwe need signs of a transcendent humanism. It is desperately needed and that is why I have hopes for a revival of the re-ligious life. Obedience is an Effective Sign of Self-Transcendence The ideal Christian community is modeled on self-giving obedience in the Trinity. God, ultimately, is the obedient One whose love is manifested in self-emptying. This trinitarian love which we are to embody is totally dependent and totally independent. In God there is no pathology of identity. Unlike us, he knows who he is. This trinitarian identity points to the mystery of being human. "My being me will enable you to be you; your beingyou will enable me to be me; not me without you; not you without me; perfect identity, perfect freedom.''9 This trinitarian pattern of identity revealed in self-giving is manifested in Christian obedience. It is a love which not only creates a free and friendly space, but also shapes and orders things. Obedience is a matter of order, too~for the sake of the world. Obedience is the key to the kind of co-herence and co-inherence without which it is impossible for a community or a people to survive in any meaningful way. The Christian life is a pioneer experiment in community living which provides the rest of humanity with models for the future. You religious hold out to me the promise of integrity. That is what love does. When someone really loves me, he holds out to me the promise of that integrity I feel that I have lost. Is this too much to lay on you? No, not if we remind ourselves that the key to our being and to our 8See Reaching Out, Doubleday (N.Y., 1975), p. 50. 9David Jenkins in The Passiontide Lectures (unpublished) at Lincoln Theological College, England, 1975. Obedience in the Contemporary World / 339 identity is liturgical. Worship is that which gives human life its focus, its purpose, its significance. We live by those things which offer us self-transcendence. The Christian is a sign of self-transcendence and, as such, is liturgically oriented, Worship is directly related to obedience, awareness, identity. Christian Obedience is a Matter of Right Worship The theme of worship as an obedient "Yes!" of surrender has been beautifully portrayed in Peter Shaffer's play, Equus.~° The play concerns a psychiatrist's struggle to "cure" a seventeen-year-old boy who had gouged out the eyes of six horses. The main theme is the mystery which pervades our understanding of man, a mystery that ultimately claims our obedience, demands our yes. When confronted by the boy and his particular pain and horror, the psychiatrist is confronted with his own mystery. For him a human being, to be human, has to have an object of worship, a focus of obedience. He knows himself to be a contemplative but only by way of being a voyeur. Classical Greece is his passion, but then only halfheart-edly, through glossy pictures and planned tours. He longs to be able to say to a companion: "Look! Life is only comprehensible through a thousand local gods. And not just ten old dead ones with names like Zeus--no, but living geniuses of Place and Person! And not just Greece but modern En-gland! Spirits of certain trees, certain curves of brick wall, certain chip shops, if you like, slate roofs--just as of certain frowns in people and slouches. I'd say to them--' Worship as many as you can see--and more will appear'!''1~ If we could see, life is full of wonder, is fraught with mystery. The negative side of Christian obedience, that is, saying no resolutely and often to other allegiances, provides the liberating detachment that worship and love demand. The more you contemplate, sit still, and see, the more the gods appear, present in your brothers and sisters, in glance and gesture: the gods of self-transcendence that give human life its significance. The psychiatrist's dilemma is that he can see these gods, he does make the connection, but this vision does not conform to what "normal" people call "normal." While there is a good aspect to the word "normal," it not only means the smile in a child's eyes, it 'qs also the dead stare in a million adults. It both sustains and kills~like a god. It is the Ordinary made beautiful: it is also the Average made lethal.''v' The Christian is a sign of ilbnormality, in contradiction to what the world calls normal. Christian obedience places the unnerving question mark be-side everything in the secular world. It reminds the psychiatrist that he ~°Equus: Shrivings, Athenaeum (N.Y., 1974). ~ffbid., p. 61. Vffbid., p. 63. ~140 / Review f or Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 cannot comprehend the reality of a horse, let alone the mind of a child! The horse, Equus, stares at the doctor, "Do you really imagine you can account for Me? Totally, infallibly, inevitably account for Me? . . . Poor Doctor Dysart.''13 To "cure" the boy, to make him "normal," the psychiatrist has to take away his passion, his obedience, his object of worship. To save him there has to be a lobotomy of the soul. The boy worships horses, idolatrously and even demonically, but at least he worships something, he has made the great "Yes!." Every three weeks, at midnight, he would strip naked and gallop into the night on the back of his sweating and steaming god. It is this that unnerves the doctor and makes him hesitate to take away the boy's pain. Doctor Dysart tries to explain to his friend, the magistrate: "Look. to go through life and call it Yours--your life--you first have to get your own pain. Pain that's unique to you. You can't just dip into the common bin and say 'That's enough!' . . . He's done that. All right, he's sick. He's full of misery and fear. He was dangerous, and could be again, though I doubt it. But that boy has known a passion more ferocious than I have felt any second o~" my life. And let me tell you something: I envy it. ¯. Don't you see? That's the Accusation! That's what his stare has been saying to me all this time. 'At least I galloped! When did you?' ,,14 Without worship, without obedience, human life is impoverished and diminished. The Christian may risk being a little or even totally mad in terms of this world, but his "Yes!," his surrender, is a sign that he is willing to gallop with the Holy Spirit. Even the possessed boy lying prostrate ¯ before his slave-god, the Mighty Horse, points to a passion, an obedience, a commitment we can scarcely imagine. "I sit looking at pages of centaurs trampling the soil of Argos---and outside my window he is trying to become one, in a Hampshire field! For, me, this points to the heart of Christian obedience in the modern world. The commitment of the Christian, no matter how much he fails, is an effective sign of the seriousness of the gospel, of its radical passion, its ultimacy, its finality. I need you to be--simply be--for my sake, as reminder of all those things in life which tell me that I am more than I think I am. Some may be disappointed with me for not being more specific regarding Christian obedience. To tell the truth, I simply cannot prescribe set patterns of obedience for anyone else. I am convinced, however, that once the primary allegiance is at least seen, then nurtured and developed day by day, all these other things fall into place. A loving look at God, steadily and daily, helps me to seek the good of the whole community, to "obey" as an act of love--to say "Yes!" to my brothers and sisters because you too are struggling to make the great "Yes!" to God. talbid., p. 74. l~lbid., p. 80. ~51bid., p. 81. Obedience in the Contemporary World / 341 Obedience is unavoidable. Enslavement to one god or another is in-. evitable. Like love, obedience is part of that which constitutes, forms, shapes us as human beings. Augustine says, in effect, "Love by all means, but take care what you love." I would add: You must obey, but take care what you obey. Only the gospel offers that service which is perfect freedom. The obedience of the Christian serves the wider community by wit-nessing to both the revolutionary character of Christian obedience and the provisional character of all those other things which demand our allegiance. The Christian is a trafficker in mystery. The so-called "unnatural" life of the monk invites me to dig deeper into the abyss within myself. Christian Obedience is a Movement in the Holy Spirit Two recent books, both by religious, give a positive rationale for Chris-tian obedience which to me is the most important of the three vows. Henri Nouwen does it indirectly in outlining three movements in the spiritual life.I~ The first movement is from loneliness to solitude where a suffocating loneliness is transfigured by one'~ "Yes!" into a receptive solitude. The second movement is from hostility to hospitality. Obedience again is the key to our being free enough to create a "free and friendly space" for others. The final movement is from illusion to prayer. This, in ~eality, is the hardest area of obedience. It is at this deep point thatChristian community is forged. The marks, then, of our obedience are solitude, conviviality, and con templation. The second book is by the Mirfield father,~7 Harry Williams, called Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience.~8 He writes, "Fundamentally, obedi-ence consists of discovering what you most truly and deeply are, or, better, what you have it in you to be, and of being loyal to the insight you have thus received. Such loyalty,., may sometimes, perhaps of.ten, involve a degree of submission to some external auth~ority or other. But its root is not submission to anything external, it is being true to yourself."'~9 Williams uses the example of the creative artist as the most eloquent instance of obedience. It is saying "Yes!" to the vision. Obedience, then, is obedience to one's true. self, and who I am, in the end, is a matter of faith. Williams offers "a test we can apply to anything which demands our obedience. Is the authority demanding obedience only external, nothing more than the imposition upon myself of an alien will. ? The external authority . . . may turn out to be an apparatus, inevitably (since human beings are fallible) no more than a rough and ready 160p. cit. ~TReference is to another Anglican religious order, the Community of the Resurrection [editor|. ~SMitchell Beazley, London, 1975. ~Slbid., p. 83. 349 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 apparatus, to enable people to be obedient to themselves by making pos-sible that give and take between the self and others which man needs because he is a social animal."z° Is the higher obedience what matters in the end because we can only be true to ourselves insofar as we are true to that which is greater than ourselves? "My 'me' is God, nor do I know my selfhood save in him," wrote St. Catherine of Genoa.21 For the real me to emerge there has to be a free surrender to the transcendent. It is in obe-dience that I know that there is more to me than my self-regarding ego. Christian obedience is the denial of anthropological reductionism. I am more than my moods, my emotions, my preferences. Obedience is, Finally, a Matter of Love Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience, these three remain, and the greatest of them is obedience. Christian obedience is the only form of surrender which secures our true liberty. It is, therefore, vital that we keep our obedience Christian, because obedience unfocused and unexamined is the harbinger of demonic tyranny. I call upon you, my brothers and sisters, to be signs of a pioneering, obedient humanity in the decades ahead. The Church, the world, needs men and women who enflesh the final obedience, who, by their very profession, are those who create the open, free, and friendly space for the dying, poor and cramped children of the earth. Christian obedience in the modern world is finally a matter of love--a wild, mad kind of love in a world gone mad. It brings with it a self-authenticating authority which affirms the beautiful and strange dogma of freedom in surrender, of resurrection in death, of joy in self-offering. Perhaps I may be forgiven, so close to our Bicentennial, to twist the words of that unpleasant patriot, Patrick Henry: "Give me liberty or give me death!" To Christians in the modern world, I say, "Give me liberty and give me death!" This is the life-bearing power which comes to those who have died, who have been buried with Christ, and raised with him to life everlasting. We follow the One who was obedient, the One who said "Yes!." "The Son of God, Christ Jesus, proclaimed among you by us ¯ . . was never a blend of yes and no. With him, it was, and is, yes. He is the yes pronounced upon God's promises, every one of them. That is why, when we give glory to God, it is through Christ Jesus that we say 'Amen' " (2 Co 1:19-20). Finally, this self-emptying yes is the prelude to being filled. Christian obedience is a miracle of grace. Like the priest in Bernanos' Diary of a Country Priest, we are saved in surrender. He discovered the miracle of the empty hands, the wonder of being able to give to others what we ourselves do not possess. The yes Of our emptiness and of our agony is God's oppor-tunity, the supreme source of the healing and redeeming power of love. ~°lbid., p. 93-4. 21Quoted by Williams, ibid., p. 98. The Annual Dialogue With the Major Superior Richard P. Vaughan, S.J. Father Vaughan, as a former provincial in his region, has had ample experience with the annual dialogue. Presently he is engaged.in counseling and psychotherapy with priests and sisters, and teaches psychology at Loyola-Marymount University; 7101 W. 80th St.; Los Angeles, CA 90045. A yearly dialogue with the provincial or major superior is an accepted practice among most religious. How this dialogue is conducted and the attitude of the participants frequently determines its value both to the provincial and the individual member. It can be a formality, made out of a sense of duty, and consequently with little fruit, or it can be a most useful means of bringing about spiritual and apostolic renewal within both an individual and a congregation. Changing Role of the Provincial During the past decade the nature° of the provincial's position has changed. Previously the provincial was primarily the chief administrative officer of a unit called a province; today he or she is expected to demon-strate greater leadership in both temporal and spiritual affairs, in addition to handling province business. The emphasis is more on the welfare of individual members and communities and less upon paper work and in-stitutions. In many instances a large portion of the administration has been delegated to others so as to give the provincial more time to devote to the members and to programs which affect their lives. Vatican II has called upon provincials to exercise leadership in bringing 343 344 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 about a renewal within their congregations.1 If provincials are to be effec-tive in responding to this call, they must understand the present state of their provinces. Such understanding can best come through a personal knowledge of the individual members and where they stand in their own lives and on issues and problems confronting the congregation. The major superior who knows each member in a personal way is certainly in a better position to decide on measures to improve the state of a province. Aim of the Dialogue Not infrequently the annual dialogue is the sole opportunity a provincial has to meet with and gain an understanding of each member of his province. For this reason it is most important that the interview be conducted in such a way as to meet both the needs of the provincial and those of the individual member. Effective leadership and the welfare of the province often depend upon its success. In addition to helping the major superior govern the province in a per-sonal manner, the dialogue also serves as an opportunity for each member to receive something in the way of guidance and direction. For those who do not have a spiritual director, this may be one's only occasion to evaluate his or her progress in the apostolic and spiritual life, and to plan strategies for improvement. And, after participating in many similar interviews throughout the province, the provincial is in a unique position to offer counsel according to the spirit of his or her congregation. Finally, the annual dialogue can be most useful in effecting renewal within a local community. Information gathered from all the members of a ¯ given community allows the provincial to understand that community in a unique way and affords him the opportunity to deal with any difficulty that may be brought to his attention either through the local superior or through his meetings with the members of the community. The Kind of Information Needed What kind of knowledge does the provincial or major superior need so as to exercise the leadership expected of him today? First of all, he should know each member of the province on a personal basis, or at least a significant portion of the membership if the province is large. He needs to know how each feels about himself and his life: how he gets along in the local community; how he relates to others in the congregation and outside of it and how he thinks he is doing in his apostolic work. Most of all, the provincial needs to know how each member relates to God, the level of his faith and commitment, and the depth of his spiritual life. The accumulation of such data from interviews with most of the members in the province allows the major superior to make an accurate estimate of where the prov- 1The Documents of Vatican H. Walter M. Abbott, S.J. (Ed.). America Press, 1966, pp. 469-470. The Annual Dialogue With the Major Superior / 345 ince stands and then settle upon the directions his leadership should take. Without this knowledge he may well decide upon a course of action which the members are incapable of following. Moreover, this type of information is essential for any guidance he might offer individuals and local commu-nities as a consequence of the visitation. Approaches The approach taken by a member often determines whether the major superior finds the dialogue profitable. As previously mentioned, some come to him out of a sense of duty. They chat about inconsequentials in a friendly manner, air a complaint or two, assure the provincial that everything is going well, and depart, all in a matter of a few minutes. Obviously such an approach is of little value to either participant, since the purpose of the dialogue is never realized. The provincial comes to no better understanding of the member as a person and a religious under vows, and the member receives no guidance. The member who wishes to help the provincial fulfill his leadership role and at the same time profit from his guidance can take either of two ap-proaches: he can attempt to be an objective historian or he can be an involved autobiographer,z If he chooses to be an historian, he will certainly offer the provincial valuable data which can be used in governing, but the provincial will most probably never come to know him on a personal basis. On the other hand, if he chooses to be an autobiographer, he offers the provincial needed information both about the province and about himself, and at the same time, he affords the provincial the opportunity to know him as a person and as a Christian under vows, following the charism and spirit of his community. Historian The historian centers his attention on past events which he tries to describe in an accurate and objective way. He makes every effort not to allow personal reflections and involvement to color these events. The member who takes the historical approach usually reports a number of significant--and sometimes not so significant--happenings in his life and that of his community since the last dialogue. Because he distances himself from them in his narrative, the provincial often does not come to a better understanding of him as a person. Rather he gets the impression that the member is standing outside of himself as he relates what has happened in his apostolic work, his i:ommunity life and his prayer. There is little emotional involvement. He may even give the impression that any problem he presents is not his own but someone else's. In such an approach, it sometimes happens that the dialogue becomes a monologue with the member moving rapidly from one topic to the next 2Egan, Gerard, Face to Face. Brooks/Cole, Monterey, CA, 1973, pp. 45-46. 346 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 and giving the superior little or no time to react to what has been said until the end--and by that time so many topics have been covered that the superior has either forgotten them or does not know where to begin. Should the superior try to break into the flow of the narrative, he meets with evident signs of displeasure. The message comes across loud and clear: "Take account of what I have to say about the community and our work but keep your distance from me." While such a dialogue does help in later decision making, at least to a degree, it does not contribute to that pool of information the provincial needs if he is to understand where the majority of the members of the congregation stand in their personal and spiritual lives, which is often an important factoi" in future planning. Autobiographer At the other end of the continuum of those engaged in dialogue is the approach of the autobiographer. Here the member gives an account of his own personal experiences and spiritual odyssey. Frequently he does not give an historical narrative in logical sequence or a series of difficulties according to priorities, but rather tries to describe himself as he is now through what has happened during the past year. The focus of attention is on himself rather than on past events. He attempts to have the superior understand who he is at this moment as a person, a Christian, a religious with vows, and a member of a congregation with its own charism and spirit. He relates facts about himself, chosen principally to achieve this end. If he presents a problem or difficulty, he indicates how he personally is reacting to it. He states clearly his own feelings and attitudes, even though the problem involves something outside of himself, such as a complaint about the way a superior is handling another member of the community. He may pass over points which on the surface appear important but, as he sees them, add nothing to the picture he is trying to paint of himself. In the process of talking about himself, the member will most probably also offer observations about the local community, the province and the congrega-tion, all of which will be a help to the major superior both in exercising leadership in the province and in directing the individual involved in the dialogue. The autobiographical approach means lowering defenses and exposing oneself as one actually is at the moment. Such a process calls for humility and risk-taking. In self-disclosure one is never sure what he will discover about himself or how the listener will react to what he hears. Sources of Anxiety Built into the psyche of each of us is a reluctance to talk freely about personal matters, especially to one we would not consider a close friend. As we approach the annual dialogue with the major superior, some knowledge about the sources of this reluctance can be helpful in handling our un-easiness and anxiety. The Annual Dialogue With the Major Superior / 347 Most of us reject some part of ourselves. We tend to block out of consciousness or to hide what we dislike about ourselves. The prospect of having to confront and talk about these unaccepted personal characteristics makes us uneasy. ,The thought of letting down the mask and revealing ourselves just as we are causes embarrassment. As a consequence, most, to some degree, have to struggle .to be fully open and forthright as they progress through the diaioguel A certain amount of embarrassment is simply a part of the human condition, but if it reaches the state where talking about ourselves becomes most~difficult, then we should ask the question: "Am I living behind a mask and playing a role much of the time so as to hide what I am both from myself and from others?" If the answer is affirmative, then We would do well to indicate this feeling to the provincial and discuss it with him. Private Self We all have a private and a public "self.'" The private self is the one we keep to ourselves, or perhaps reveal to one or two close friends: the public self we show to others. In the annual dialogue, we are asked to manifest the private self---at least to some degree. A reluctance to do so is natural. Our relationship with God, how we feel about ourselves and others in the community and, even more so, our own limitations are highly personal concerns. They are hardly topics that we are apt to discuss in a social gathering. It can be helpful to reflect upon the position of the major superior ¯ and how he will use what is discussed to fulfill the ends of his office. It is well, too, to bear in mind that what is discussed actually remains a part of the private self since it must be treated as confidential matter. The superior is not free to divulge it to any other person. In our culture, seeking help from another is often considered a sign of weakness.3 We should be able to solve our own problems and not depend upon others. The mature person should be able to stand on his own two feet, handle his own affairs. If he has a difficulty, he should look for its causes and then seek a solution. If there is no evident solution, he should wait it out, suffering in silence. This attitude is especially prevalent among men. The contemporary masculine image calls for a man to be strong, independent, and reserved in expressing his feelings to others. All of these factors militate against speaking with ease about oneself to a major superior in the hope of getting his guidance. It is not uncommon for a religious to say to himself: "I have been able to handle my difficulties in the past by myself. Why bother the superior now?" As a consequence he passes over matters that should be discussed and, in this event, one of the purposes of the dialogue is lost. As much as we like to think that we are not dependent on others, however, if we stop to reflect, it will become apparent that each of us is 3Jourard, Sidney M., The Transparent Self. Van Nostrand, New York, 1971, p. 133. 34~1 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 dependent upon a number of people. It all goes with being "social ani-mals." We need and depend upon those with whom we live and work. Seeking direction from a concerned person is not a sign of weakness but wisdom. It acknowledges that we all need counsel, that no one is totally self-sufficient. The dialogue can sometimes produce a feeling of closeness toward the superior. For some, such a feeling can be threatening. In the past, they have managed to keep a distance between themselves and others. When some-one tries to get to know them on a deeper level, they become uncomfortable and move back from the developing relationship. As such a person engages in the annual dialogue with the superior, the pressure of this feeling can deter frankness and openness. It may even demand an almost heroic cour-age on his part not to yield to the temptation to be absent at the time of the visitation. Fear of Rejection On the other side of the coin is the fear of rejection.4 The individual is never sure how the superior will react to what he has to say. There is always the possibility that he or she will be judgmental and condemning. The superior may listen with genuine concern and with a desire to help but when the dialogue is over there is a lingering question in the member's mind: "Does he respect me as much as he did before?" If the member's level of self-esteem is low, this nagging doubt can be most painful. Most major superiors have the duty of approving candidates for pro-fession and ordination, and, in some congregations, for positions of au-thority. An awareness of this fact can limit open discussion on the part of the member, for an individual usually will not reveal anything about himself which will endanger his advancement. It is not uncommon, then, for one to give the superior what he thinks the superior wants to hear, and, of course, the dialogue is reduced to game-playing. If the annual dialogue is to achieve its purpose, it is up to the superior to assure the individual that what he says will not be used against him in any way, and then be scrupulous in effec-tuating this assurance. Insight and Change Often the annual dialogue with our provincial can be a way of com-municating with ourselves, getting in touch with how we really feel. It can be a source of new knowledge and insight. As we talk about ourselves, we become more aware of our attitudes, our values, how we feel about a variety of issues and problems.5 For some this opportunity is welcomed enthusiastically; for others it is dreaded--for on such a journey we never know what we will discover. If it brings forth affirming information, self- 4Egan, ibid., pp. 55-56. 5ldern, pp. 53-54. The Annual Dialogue With the Major Superior / 349 esteem is enhanced; if it reveals previously unknown negative qualities, we are forced to look at something that we may find difficult to accept. Not infrequently new self-knowledge calls for change within ourselves and in our lives. Change is never easy. It can place demands on us that we are unwilling to meet, at least at this particular time. As we prepare for the annual dialogue, most of us are aware that the outcome may call for reform. It is this prospect that causes us sometimes to approach the dialogue as an ordeal rather than an opportunity for personal and spiritual growth. Yet, if properly made, the annual dialogue with the major superior can be a means of helping that superior fulfill his role as the leader of the congregation in that region and, at the same time, an opportunity for the member to receive valuable guidance. Whether these aims are attained frequently depends upon the approach taken by the participants, as well as by their openness. Understanding each member in the province on a per-sonal level allows the provincial to determine the state of the province and then to formulate directions which will lead to spiritual renewal and greater apostolic effectiveness for the province, the local community and the in-dividual who has engaged in the dialogue. A Conversation at Final Profession We talked-- First, he ~poke to me: a Word in the a Word in the a Word in the a Word in the Then, he ~poke to me: a Word in the a Word in the a Word in. the a Word in the Love of my family, Pain of growing up, Laughter among childhood friends, Tears at leaving home. Hope of the man 1'11 be, Fear of the silence I've felt, Strength of my brothers and friends, Weakness of the people I serve. Finally, he spoke to me: a Word in the Flesh of a man called Christ, a Word in the Heart touching, challenging, changing, a Word in the Call to live like Him, a Word in the Answer of death and life. Standingspeechless before God, 1 live: all of my days. Thomas J. Burke, O.SS.T. Trinity House 949 Gorsuch Ave. Baltimore, MD 21218 The Charism of the Community: Does It Really Make a Difference? Charles E, Bouchard, O.P. Brother Bouchard is a member of St. Rose Priory, the Dominican Community of Aquinas Institute; 2570 Asbury Rd.; Dubuque, IA 52001. His last article, "Journey of Faith . . . appeared in the July, 1977 issue (p. 592). The whole question of what a commu.nity's charism means was brought to my attention one day while I was teaching a group of high school juniors. I was trying to convince them that the Dominicans had a particular character, a way of doing things, and that consequently their education in a Dominican high school would be in some way different from that in a Jesuit or a Benedictine high school. They were slightly less than convinced. Even though I knew that the spirit of my order was special and different from the Jesuit spirit, it was very difficult to convey that mixture of feelings, experiences and training that made me a Dominican. Then I began to wonder if indeed it really made any difference. Should we attempt to dif-ferentiate ourselves from other religious communities in our ministries? Was our "charism" really worth dwelling upon? My formation placed great emphasis on what is unique to Dominicans: what we are about, who we are, why we exist. It seemed to me that it would be wasteful to put all that aside when I entered the classroom, but I didn't know how I could convey what had been impressed upon me in formation and what had initially led me to commit myself to the Dominican ideal. The document on the renewal of religious life calls members of religious communities to a "constant return to the sources of the whole of Christian life and to the primitive inspiration of the institutes, and their adaptation to 35o The Charism of the Community / 351 the changed conditions of our times" (Perfectae Caritatis, 2). Religious, like all Christians, must constantly re-evaluate their lives in the light of the gospel. They must also identify their particular charism if they are to be effective in their ministry. Perhaps a look at the New Testament roots of these charisms can help us more clearly discern our role today and our mandate for the future. What Are Charisms? The word charism comes from a Greek word meaning "a favor, an expression of kindness or a gift; a special manifestation of the divine presence." A charism is a gift, an ability, a talent, an inclination to be of service in a particular way. John Carroll Futrell, in an excellent article which appeared a few years ago in The Way, "Discovering the Founder's Charism," says that a charism is "simply a graced way of seeing and of following Jesus for the service of the whole Church, which can cease to exist if and when this vision and this service cease to be a true good for the Church.''1 These charisms are gifts of the Spirit to assure the growt.h of Christ's body despite our sinful and incomplete natures. They cannot be earned or demanded of God, but are nevertheless everywhere present and are often readily recognizable by the community. Jesus hinted at this when he said, "By their fruits you shall know them." The first gifts to the early Church were made known at Pentecost in a passage familiar to all of us: And suddenly there came from the sky a noise like that of a strong driving wind, which filled the whole house where they were sitting. And there appeared to them tongues like flames of fire dispersed among them and resting on each one. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit, and began to talk in other tongues and the Spirit gave them utterartce. Ac 2:2-5 (emphasis added). Later, Peter tries to explain the phenomenon and quotes the old Tes-tament: "I foresaw that the presence of the Lord would be with me al-ways." Three things are apparent in this event: first, the Spirit is given to all (~'each one"); secondly, the Spirit empowered them to do something ("gave them utterance"); and thirdly, as Peter makes clear, it is a sign. of a continuing event, the abiding presence of the Lord. Later, St. Paul expounds on the gifts of the Spirit that were first made present at Pentecost with the symbolic flames when he writes to the Church in Rome: Just as each of our bodies has several parts and each part has a separate function, so all of us, in union with Christ, form one body, and as parts of it we belong to each other. Our gifts differ according to the grace given to us. If your gift is prophecy, then 1John Carroll Futrell, "Discovering the Founder's Charism," The Way Supplement 14 (Autumn 1971): p. 63. 359 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 use it as your faith suggests; if administration, then use it for administration; if teaching, then use it for teaching. Let the preachers deliver sermons, the almsgivers give freely, the officials be diligent, and those who do works of mercy do them cheerfully. Rm 12:4-8. While Paul speaks here about very specific gifts which were evident in the early Church, we can obviously extend this to our time. We see these and many more gifts manifested today. Hans Kfing lists three major categories of charisms: l) those of preaching (which include teaching); 2) those of service; 3) those of leadership,z Just as Jesus Christ in his physical body on earth preached, taught, fed the hungry, healed, and forgave, the Church is called upon from its be-ginnings, and is empowe.red by the Spirit which came initially at Pentecost and continues to be present, to continue those works which Jesus did. What Does Jesus' Life on Earth Call Us to Do? An examination of the New Testament reveals Jesus ministering in diverse ways. His whole life was an example for us and the Church to follow. Jesus healed. Perhaps we could cite the healing of the lepers as just one example of his healing (Lk 5:12ff). One healing incident stands out as representative of Jesus' attitude toward those who came to him: A leper comes and says, 'qf you want to, you can cure me." Jesus responds: ~'Of course I want to! Be healed!" (Mk 1:40). Here we find a warm example of Jesus' willingness to cure and relieve suffering. The Church continues that work today in health care and in charismatic and sacramental healing. Jesus preached and taught. Besides the numerous examples we could glean from the parables which served to reveal the Father to those who followed him, Jesus revealed the New Covenant through his preaching of the beatitudes (Mr 5: lff). ~'Rejoice and be glad for your reward will be great in'heaven" signified an entirely new message: there was no need to despair because of present circumstances; a far greater destiny had been won for man by Christ. Preaching remains a primary mission of the Church, both in the in-stitutionalized sense and in the witness to which we are all called. We here consider preaching and teaching together because of their essential simi-larity. Teaching and preaching do not seem to have been distinguished as we know them !oday until after the sixteenth century when a secular society be.gan to emerge. In teaching, Jesus sought to expand the message he preached through his use of parables and his occasional use of more dramatic actions such as the cleansing of the temple. Although preaching is now normally considered to be the proclamation of God's word by those specifically commissioned ZHans K~ing, The Church. (New York: Doubleday and Co., Image Books, 1976), p. 242. The Charism of the Community / 353 to do so, it is very closely related to Christian witness, which is the vocation of every Christian. Preaching, if we consider it in its broadest sense, need not be limited to a solely liturgical setting. Christians, in teaching and witnessing to their faith through Christian lives, are constantly called upon to proclaim the message of salvation. Jesus prayed. Besides the obvious example of his instruction of the Lord's prayer which gave the apostles a new view of God as Father and enabled them to address him as such in prayer, Jesus showed us the im-portance of solitary and petitionary prayer in his agony in the garden (Mk 14:33) and in his temptations in the desert. The Church has followed this call to prayer through its contemplative religious communities, through the Liturgy of the Hours, and through its many exhortations to prayer in private and in a liturgical setting. The Prayer of the Faithful in the Liturgy of the Eucharist is a good example of this emphasis. Finally, Jesus fed the hungry. Sensitive to the crowds that had been following him without food, Jesus multiplied the loaves and fishes and thus provided for this material need (Mk 6:37ff). The Wedding Feast at Cana provides a similar example of his concern for the needs of those with whom he associated. Jesus' visits to the homes of Zacchaeus and Mary Magdalene give us examples of his concern for the human need for com-panignship and affirmation. The Church, as the Body of Christ extended in time and space, con-tinues all these works today. Spreading the Good News, it imitates and follows Christ as it heals, preaches, teaches, feeds and prays. Special abilities (charisma) are given in each of these areas to the members of the Body, and since each is indispensable to the whole, we have an essential unity. Some feed; others teach (study); some have special care for prayer or healing. Religious communities are usually dedicated to one or other of these specific tasks, and we can easily think of at least one religious com-munity that is primarily concerned with each of these duties of the Church. The Alexian Brothers, for example, are specially dedicated to health care, and in that way carry on Christ's work of healing and extend his concern for the sick. Charisms and Religious Life Today, our identity as religious is in question. We have come through a traumatic period during which most of the formhl structures which had supported and signified our lives have melted away, leaving us, at best, with the job of reconstructing our purpose and place in the world, and, at worst, with little idea of which way to turn. Confusion has resulted for older members of our communities who can no longer find the life they once lived; new members entering often find a diffuse selection of life-styles and interpretations to choose from and no longer have a sure external formula after which to pattern their lives. 354 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 I believe, however, that the matter of the place and function of religious life in the world today is somewhat simplified if we recall the idea of charism and the unity of the body of Christ. These charisms are present in the Church, are its lifeblood, and are God's assurance that the Church will be able to continue its work and be a vehicle of salvation. If we see each religious community as a communal realization of one of these charisms, we can see much more clearly what the goal and purpose of that religious community is and what direction.it should take today. Although all of us have the gospel as primary goal, it is important for us to attempt to isolate our community's charism and determine to what extent it is an expression of one of these works of Christ and to what degree it affects our ministry. If Benedictines, for example, can be considered to be primarily an extension of Christ's work of prayer, isn't it reasonable tO assume that a Benedictine school will have a different thrust in spirit than one would expect to find in a Jesuit school whose charism may be more apostolic or a Dominican school where study and "truth" are high values among the religious faculty? If we believe that the Spirit of our founder remains valid and vital, I think we need to evaluate to what extent we live that spirit in our work. In fact, although we must remember the essential unity of the Body of which we are all parts, I think we would be doing the Church a great disservice by losing sight of the particular gifts which our communities seek to foster. The color and diversity that must be a part of the universal Church are greatly enhanced by a realization of the varied ministries and gifts that are present within it. If the charism of the Benedictines is one of prayer and work for the sake of the gospel, then that spirit should be cultivated and held high as one Christian ideal among many others. Religious communities can be of great service to the Church by living their calls to the full and providing many strong examples for others to emulate. None of these orders offers the complete spirit of Christianity, but all together, with the thousands of personalities and talents they represent, symbolize the many-faceted but unified body of Christ. Isolating a community's charism is only half the problem, however. I may be well aware of what it means to be a Dominican, that my call is to preaching and a communal life centered around contemplation and apos-tolate, but how do I communicate that to a group of high school students or to the parish I serve? How do I offer the charismatic elements of my life to the Church at large? How do I convey the vitality that I, as a Benedictine monk or nun, derive from Ora et Labora? How do I express all that the Jesuit motto, Ad majorem Dei gloriam, means to me as a Jesuit? This is a question that is not easily answered, but I would propose a few practical suggestions: 1) First of all, it is necessary to discover one's charism. What was my community founded to do? What was the founder's original intention? How The Charism of the Community / 355 does that translate into the United States in the twentieth century? Are there some parts of my community's charism that no longer remain valid today? (Again, Futrell's article is particularly helpful here.) 2) How does this original insight affect what I do today? If the Dominicans, for example, were founded to combat error in the thirteenth century, is there something in this for me as a high school or college teacher today? Certainly I'm not going to adopt an inquisitorial teaching method. But might the Dominican pursuit of truth lead me to a particularly inquiring stance with regard to my teaching? 3) Am I in my religious community because my talents, interests and personality mesh with the thrust of my community? If so, it is likely that just my personality says volumes about what my religious community is all about. Often the peaceful feeling of prayerfulness that one finds in a mon-astery is due primarily to the fact that most of the monks exude that peace and prayerfulness. Not many extremely boisterous, apostolicaily oriented people would find monastic life to their liking. Similarly, Dominicans are often seen as academic and erudite. One who despises the discipline of study would probably not find the Dominican life palatable. 4) Besides the natural aspects of my personality, how do ! attempt to cultivate consciously the elements of my community's calling into my life? I may be naturally talkative and curious, but those characteristics alone don't make me a Dominican. Discipline in study and a search for truth through prayer and contemplation must accompany any personality char-acteristics that may incline me toward Dominican life initially. The purpose of such an examination and re-emphasis of our purpose and' character is not to separate or divide us. It is simply a recognition that many different parts are necessary to the body of Christ, and that they must work together well. We are in an age of intense self-awareness when every advertisement, book and program compels us to develop ourselves fully and to eliminate, as one author puts it, our "erroneous zones," or those parts of us which function least effectively, to the detriment of our whole selves. Religious communities should do no less. We must take what is strongest in our traditions and build on that, remembering our inter-dependence and ultimate membership in Christ's body. John Futrell states the need well when he says: "What religious communities are called to do in the renewal of their spirit and the adaptation of their life to the signs of the times is really to re-found themselves. They are called to a re-founding because they must communally discern the radically new ways of incar-nating this charism in life and action to which the Holy Spirit, speaking in events, calls them in the world today."''~ Religious charisms do make a difference. They are signs of the presence of the Spirit in our midst and of the rich variety with which he equips the Body of Christ for life and mission. They mutually reinforce one another, aFutrell, idem, p. 70. $56 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 and, together, make the Church both a powerful force for good and a home for an endless variety of people. Religious communities don't do anything different from the rest of the Church, but they should be leaders and ¯ examples. Clearly, if we are part of a religious community that is involved in one of these works which Christ wished to be continued, we should constantly renew our efforts to identify and intensify those works. If we can isolate our community's particular calling, identify in our-selves those inherent traits that suit us to that community and then try to develop our natural talents along the lines of the community's identity, I believe we will have gone far toward unifying and strengthening our com-munity's witness. Throughout history one of the primary tasks of religious life has been that of witness--witness to one of those works of Christ which I pointed out earlier. Whether as a Little Brother of the Poor feeding, as a School Sister of Notre Dame teaching, as a Dominican preaching, as a Benedictine praying, or as a Sister of Mercy healing, we witness to the love of Christ and to the abiding presence of the Spirit in the world. The very fact that we exist to preach, teach, pray, heal and feed can be an invaluable sign to the world that Christ is still with us. But signs must be clear and easily readable. By examining our lives and our callings we can clarify that sign which our ministry and lives are and make them point more effectively to the Kingdom which we have been promised and which has already begun. Now Available As Reprint An apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Bivd, St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Impassioned Presence: Religious Life and Leisure Janie Gustafson, C.S.J. As have so many religious, Sister Janie has reverted to her given name. When last her work appeared in these pages, "The God of Brokenness" (March, 1977, p. 178), she bore the name "'Jean Annette." This article is a chapter from her most recent book, to be released by Harper and Row in May. She mentions of the book: "Celibate passion is a deep-seated life force that courses within each of us, whether we are male or female, lay or clergy, married or single, young or old. It is a passion that longs for intimacy yet leads us to discover our essential aloneness." The title of the book is Celibate Passion. To burn for and to be grounded in the reality of God is the most important thing we can do with our lives. But even this is not enough. Once we have caught fire and have found our deepest center, then we must call forth the birthing of God in others. We must be midwives of new life; we must do something creative with our relationship to God. To be fully religious, we must share him with those around us. This insight has been one of the traditional justifications for choosing a celibate or solitary life-style. Celibacy supposedly gives us more freedom to pursue a career or to give ourselves in creative service. But this is only partly true. Instead of fre.eing us for greater creativity, celibacy often be-comes a synonym for addiction to work. How easily we drown our lives in too much verbiage and paper work, and limit our relationships to the stimulation of one small part of our anatomies. We spend so much of our time reproducing the past or maintaining the status quo that we neglect to develop the multi-dimensional, psycho-physical-spiritual beings we are. In the book of Genesis, when God directs Adam and Eve to be fruitful, 357 3511 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 multiply, and fill the earth, he is referring to more than biological repro-duction. Our vocation is to be co-creators with God, to fill the earth with unique and unrepeatable forms of life. To do this, we must awaken our-selves to new levels of consciousness and experience. Such awakenings~, however, always require time. Thus, I find that implicit in the call to wholeness (which is exactly what religious life is all about) is the call to leisure. I stress leisure as opposed to work because it implies attitudes which are essential to creativity. In the ancient creation stories and myths, divine creativity is never the same as work. Work is purposeful activity, a duty marked by drudgery, a mechanical reproduction of something already existing. Divine creativity, as presented in Genesis, is so leisurely that it seems to be play. God savors, applauds, and rejoices in creating unique and beautiful things. And he does this, as is stated in the books of Ecclesiasticus and Proverbs, only after eons and eons. Before the beginning of the created universe, there was neither activity nor rest. God alone was there. Alone and yet not alone; one and yet three. And there was leisure: an intense, intimate relationship of presence and reciprocity. It is not difficult to understand why we have lost sight of the importance of leisure for creativity. Inherent in our Protestant Ethic is an emphasis on work which has gradually evolved into its ove~:valuation and a very limited concept of what it means. The utilitarianism of Jeremy Bentham has persuaded us that our greatest motivation for work is pleasure, which can only be measured by the utility, or usefulness, of the work. We have learned to equate usefulness with happiness, and the amount of work we do with virtue. In today's society, we are measured by the job we hold and by how many luxuries of the culture we can purchase. Utilitarianism has so saturated even our religious concepts that it is almost impossible for us to be leisurely. Somewhere in our cerebral memory banks, we know that idle hands are potentially evil, and that we are slothful if we prefer to "be" instead of to "do." To be "good" is to work hard and to work always. We suspect options that smack of a Bohemian pursuit of pleasure and we feel guilty when we are not engaged in anything. To relieve ourselves of this guilt, we make leisure work-oriented and centered around the values of progress and production. Our leisure must have a purposi~, even if it is merely to rejuvenate our minds and revitalize our bodies. Thus, many of us in religious life are simply modern-day re-incarnations of Sisyphus, a worker chained to his function, never pausing from fruitless toil and never reaping the rewards of labor. We can only become human, I am convinced, by taking time for leisure and by acquiring the attitudes of leisure. The call to be religious is a call to leisure in all of its most self-actualizing expressions. Aristotle, in his Politics, says that leisure is so important that it is the center about which every.thing revolves. When we become more creative and playful, we be- Impassioned Presence: Religious Life and Leisure / :359 come more like God. As Robert Neale says, "the maturation of the indi-vidual presents the opportunity of growing from playlessness to full play and., to 'fully play' in the adult is religion.''1 "Full play," which "uses ¯ all the potentials offered at the particular developmental stages of the individual's physical, psychological and social growth,'' is the same as what Mortimer Adler calls "leisure work" or Abraham Maslow terms "self-actualization." And this type of play is always an experience of the "holy,''3 which results in wisdom. Ironically enough, when we experience the "holy," the wisdom we perceive often seems more like foolishness (1 Co 1:27). Leisure leads us to a wisdom which seems crazy. It is this.madness which characterizes King David as he danced before the Ark of the Covenant, and St. Paul, who became a fool for Christ. True leisure in relationship to the holy produces what the Greeks call eutrapelia, a nimbleness of mind which enables us to play. It is a wise balance between too much laughter and too much seriousness. The seventh day of creation, then, is not a rest after a week of hard work; it is a festive celebration of new life and love. It is a time of uselessness, a time "where the goal is not to have but to be, not to own but to give, not to control but to share, not to subdue but to be in accord.''4 Usually, the only time we really play is when we are children. This is why I find it significant that several ancient religions have myths of infant gods who create from their play. Dionysius, Hermes, Apollo, and Heracles are all world-creating children. The Christian Savior is the child of Bethlehem. Children seem to know what leisure is. A child enters readily into the spirit of play, imagination, and creativity: A child can waste time, and love every minute of it. A child can see things for the first time, and can be delighted with beauty. Children express wholeness, Carl Jung tells us, because they do not get lost in the one-sidedness of adulthood. A child is thus a "symbol of the union of opposites: a mediator, bringer of healing, ¯. one who makes whole."5 Perhaps this is why Jesus insists that we must become like children to enter the kingdom of God. We know very little about the childhood of Jesus. But we can get clues of what it was like from Luke's report that "the child Jesus grew in wisdom and grace" (Lk 2:40). Luke could have told us that Jesus grew in carpentry skills, but instead he uses wisdom and grace, two words associated with leisure. During those thirty years I think Jesus came to realize that, to be a person of God, one must take time to really see, to marvel at the mystery of being, and to penetrate the essence of things. It is only by being there, ~Robert Neale, In Praise of Play (New York: Harper & Row, 1969), p. 82. 21bid., p. 84. 31bid., p. 97. 4Abraham Heschel, The Sabbath (New York: World, 1951), p. 1. 5Carl Gustav Jung, Psyche and Symbol, ed. by Violet S. de Laszlo (Garden City: Doubleday & Co., 1958), p. 128. 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 in the presence of God, that one can grow in wisdom, discernment, and vision. The gospel tells us that when Jesus called the apostles they left behind their work to follow him (see Mk 1:16-21). We could hardly say that the apostles never worked from that day onward. What I think is meant is that when they came to know Jesus, their attitudes changed. They left behind their pragmatic, workaday attitudes and learnt from him to be still, to suffer with others, and to appreciate the small things in life. Jesus taught them to see the birds of the air, the lilies of the field, the widow with her mite, and the little children at their feet. He taught them to think creatively, to expand their thoughts beyond traditional logic. God, he told them, is everywhere and in everyone: the saint as well as the sinner, the Samaritan as well as the Jew, the woman as well as the man. And he taught them prayer, not that of rote memory or constant petition, but that of simply being in the presence of God in silent adoration. I have often wondered why Jesus referred to himself as a shepherd. He never tended sheep; instead, he was a carpenter. In the context of leisure, his identification as shepherd becomes understandable. The carpenter symbol has always been equated with hard work, usefulness, efficiency, productivity, and common sense. All good qualities, but qualities that can easily become lost in attitudes of pragmatism. The shepherd-symbol, how-ever, has always denoted a person of vision, someone who knows wisdom and leisure. The shepherd symbolizes the responsible adult who has recaptured the essence of childhood. He or she embodies a sense of the ineffable, an awareness of the grandeur of creation, a radical amazement at all of reality. In various myths, the shepherd sees the sacred in the ordinary and thus is the first to discover the abandoned prince or the newly born offspring of the gods. It is certainly not strange that a group of shepherds first discerned the signs of Jesus' birth. Nor is it strange that so many leaders of God's people--Abraham, Joseph, Moses, and David--were also shepherds. Lei-sure produces the vision necessary for good shepherding and wise lead-ership. In taking time to stop and be still for a while, to forget our thoughts and plans, to listen to the sounds of the universe within and around us, we reach new levels of awareness. Our minds are suddenly absorbed by the beauty of particulars, whether immense or infinitesimal. Common things which once seemed boring now loom before us as exquisite works of art, capturing our interest and engaging our curiousity. The frying pan we are washing suddenly becomes a marvelous sculpture; the rose in the garden becomes like no other flower we have ever seen. Uniqueness intoxicates us; we yearn to discover more of the mysteries that surround us. In each particular we contemplate the universal. The world seems more profound, more all-embracing, and more wondrous than we have ever before realized. We are Impassioned Presence: Religious Life and Leisure / 361 awed by a deepened sense that being itself is something penetrable and comprehensible, but at the same time unfathomable, everflowing, and inexhaustible. I have found that the contemplative awareness found in leisure may remain on a purely natural level, or it may soar to the heights of religious experience. This awareness ushers us simultaneously into our full human potentialities and into the silent ever-loving presence of God. For this reason, the ancient Greeks considered the contemplative life as the highest form of existence. In contemplation we become most like God the creator and the lover, and thus, as Aristotle believed, achieve perfect happiness. This contemplation is not an intricately contrived state of altered con-sciousness, but the "relaxed and useless, focused attention of the whole mind on reality, a simple intuitive gaze born of wonder and love."'6 In leisure, we learn with T. S. Eliot to regain our childlike eyes and "'to know the place for the first time.''7 We look and we reverence. We are delighted once again and rejoice continuously in new loves and new ad-ventures. We give recklessly of our undivided attention and once again "resume our childhood love affair with single, concrete objects: with one coffee table, with one backyard, with one human face.''a We learn to love with no purpose; to face life without manipulation or exploitation. With no expectation whatsoever, we come, we are silent, and we take a long, undistracted look. Our prayer ceases to be an obligation Or duty. God and the soul "have fruition of each other in the deepest silence.''9 God becomes the heart of our being, the center of our lives, the priority of our day. We take time and make time, perhaps consciously at first, but then uncon-sciously, until at last we realize this is the way it must always be. The wisdom of leisure is the knowledge, of firsthand experience: a sa-pientia of communion, a tasting of the right things. More than contem-plation of the beautiful, it is a vital union which obliterates all barriers and joins the lover and beloved as one. It is an experienced knowledge in which the separateness of the ego begins to fade, and we enter rapturously into the object we are contemplating. Such union leads to a new creation on both the natural and the religious levels (see 2 Co .5:17). So absorbing is this ex-perience that we often lose our sense of time. Everything, past, present, and future, becomes here and now. Slowly, we learn to live wholly in each moment. Everything, in this frame of mind, is a gift to be celebrated. We are inundated with a new zest for life. We are so joyfully caught up in the 6Fr. William McNamara, "The Meaning of Festivity," Desert Call (Special Anniversary Issue, May, 1971), p. 50. ~T. S. Eliot, "'Little Gidding," Four Quartets (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1943), p. 59. 8Walter Kerr, The Decline of Pleasure (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1962), p. 207. aTeresa of Avila, Interior Castle, trans, by E. Allison Peers (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1961), p. 223. 369 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 moment that we learn more and more the ability of present. Everything is thus made holy. Living in the present moment teaches us a certain dependency and trust. There is more to life than what we put into it; the future is not always determined by our own efforts or plans. One of the saddest consequences of the growth of technology is that to a great extent we are no longer dependent on the seasons and the sun, the amount of rainfall or the fertility of the soil. No longer are we ,forced by nature to wait until the right time of growth or maturation. It was not until I spent a year in the wilderness of Nova Scotia that I made time in my life for nature and waiting. The garden was not just a garden, but a miracle of new life; the forest was not just a forest, but an eco-system made up of individual trees and fascinating animals. Dogs were no longer dogs, but creatures who taught me about the exuberance of living and the humor of God. I learned that I had to wait until the chickens decided to lay their eggs before I could gather them. To go to the nearest town, I sometimes had to wait until a fallen tree had been rolled aside or the muddy road had dried up. This natural experience of waiting led to an intense awareness of the sacred. As the natural ground exploded into its harvest, so too my ground ignited with the divine fire. God was not only real but present. In Nova Scotia I also learned of an ancient Jewish custom which changed my understanding of leisure. This custom regards the Sabbath as a time of presence. On the preceding night, a vigil is held to heighten our awareness and to usher in the Sabbath in a revered way. The Sabbath thus is neither a dutiful time of worship nor a day of rest. Instead, it becomes a day of true leisure, the celebration of reciprocity: we come to God and God comes to us. Shekinah, the divine indwelling, comes in a special way seeking human love. God chooses to linger with his creation and to have intercourse with it. "'When that day comes, it is Yahweh who speaks, you will call me, 'my husband'." (Ho 2: 18). There is a celibate part of us that is in some way engaged to eternity, to holiness, to the God of all creativity. This part of us anticipates the footsteps of God's coming, sees the wonderful in the ordihary signs of his advent, and savors every glimpse of his being. When we come to recognize this celibate part of ourselves, I think we will spontaneously make special room in our lives for prolonged vigils and sacred days. These times will be so sacred that they can be gloriously celebrated, revered, and con-sequently, wasted. By entering into this leisurely dimension of celibacy, I believe we will be better able to respond passionately to the whole of life. We will learn to be present to both the comedy and the tragedy, with both laughter and tears. We will become more real, more intensely saddened and more hilariously joyous, because of our faith that all these experiences are Impassioned Presence: Religious Life and Leisure / 363 reconciled in God's presence. I think the absence of this faith is one reason why Jesus got so angry with the Pharisees. "We played the pipe for you, and you wouldn't dance; we sang dirges and you wouldn't be mourners" (Mt 11: 17). They did not believe enough in God to let life seep into their bones and profoundly move them. Jesus himself knew happiness and tears, gentleness and anger, harshness and compassion. What sustained and supported him in both p6sitive and negative situations was his faith in God's presence. He could believe with Job that even in the darkest of nights he would again know laughter and the cries of joy (Jb 8:21). I sense in Jesus a conscious feeling not only of the rhythm of these alternating opposites but of their intrinsic harmony, their essential place in the eternal order. To respond to this divine order is, I believe, the essence of religious obedience. It is an interior and exterior sense of harmony, of being in step with the music, of doing the right things at the right time. Whenever I experience this harmony, I am filled with peace. I am one with God, and this makes my heart light. My spirit soars; it y~arns to express its delight. "You have made known the way of life to me; you fill me with gladness through your presence" (Ps 16:11). Lightheartedness, with its spirit of play, is often expressed in dance. Dancing has always been an excellent symbol of leisure, for it embodies all of the characteristics which also lead to creativity. To dance means to immerse our whole selves in the present moment. We focus our attention on the other, whether that other be a partner or the music or a particular rhythm, and we become one with the movement. Dancing has been re-garded by many people as a waste of time, for when we are dancing, we cannot do anything else. But that is precisely the point. And that is why dancing has always been an expression of divine worship and.why I wish we would dance more in our liturgical services. As Van der Leeuw writes: "The dance, by its very nature, is ecstatic. It makes us beside ourself, lifts us above life and the world, and lets our whole earthly existence perish in the maelstrom.''1° For the ancient Hebrews, dance was an expression not only of joy but of intense praise. Only by wasting time, in losing oneself in the Beloved, can one really come to praise. The essence of real worship is the useless, selfless affirmation of the Other. Thus, when the Hebrews worshipped Yahweh, they put their whole hearts and souls into it. The book of Exodus speaks of timbrels and dancing (15:20-21); Judith writes of garlands and palm branches in the hands of all (15:12-14); the First Book of Samuel tells of dances to the sound of music and joyous cries (18:6). "David and all the House of Israel danced before Yahweh with all their might, singing to the accompaniment of lyres, harps, tambourines, castinets, and cymbals . David danced whirling round before Yahweh . leaping and., displaying ~°Gerardus Van der Leeuw, Sacred and Profane Beauty: The Holy in Art, trans, by David E. Green (New York: Holt, Rinehart, & Winston, 1963), p. 29. 364 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 himself as any buffoon" (2 S 6:5, 17, 20). The Scriptures repe~atedly invite us to praise God in a way that is more than verbal (see Jdt 16:1-2; Ps 149:2-3). The New Testament accounts are no different. Everywhere Jesus goes, he makes people lighthearted. "The blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised to life" (Lk 7:22). Through the ages, Christians have repeatedly come back to this concept of leisure as it relates to religious life. Sixth-century Christian art portrays the resurrection of Jesus as a dance in which he draws the redeemed upward toward heaven. Christ, as the firstborn of the dead, is the leader in the eschatology of freedom, and the Church, as his bride, dances along. Ac-cording to these paintings, to dance is to see God. Dante, probably more than any other Christian writer, sees the entire universe laugh with delight in God's presence. He writes 6f innumerable dances.~1 Heaven is filled with "the dancing and great festival of the singing and flashing of light with light, joyous and benign.'w' Everything for Dante whirls around the Center in perfect harmony and ecstatic rapture. The traditional association of leisure with religious life, in my opinion, expresses a profound wisdom. Only when people began to equate creativity with work instead of with leisure, did our concepts of prayer and heaven become passive and uninteresting. Time spent in mutual loving presence between God and ourselves can never be static or never become boring. In being called to be religious, it is important to remember that we are also called to leisure. This call--which contains a lifetime of creative attitudes and expressions--embraces both activity and passivity, play and work, contemplation and apostolic service. Abraham Heschel puts it thus: ~'Ev-ery instant is an act of creation. A moment is not a terminal but a flash, a signal of be.ginning. Time is perpetual innovation, a synonym for con-tinuous creation.''~3 To become fully human, fully religious, I believe we must embrace everything with an impassioned presence. l~Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy, trans, by H. R. Huse (New York: Rinehart, 1958). Dante.writes of the dance of the fiery spirits (Paradise VII:4, p. 359), of the lofty Seraphim (Paradise VII1:25, p. 365), of the blazing stars---who seem "to be ladies not ending a dance but silently waiting and listening until they have heard the new measure" (Paradise X: 75-80, p. 376), and of the Principalities and Archangels (Paradise XXVIII: 124-125, p. 458). ~Zlbid., Paradise XI1:22-24, p. 383. ~aHeschel, op. cir., p. 100. Poverty and the Space Around Us Charles A. Law, S.J. Father Law has been missioned for twenty years to Nepal, having originally entered the Chicago Province of the Society of Jesus. His present address is: St. Xavier's School; Jawalakhel; G.P.O. Box 50' Kathmandu, Nepal. 'In| this article I would like to share with you some personal reflections on how the practice of religious poverty helps to develop a sense of God. Many nowadays develop the meaning of poverty in relation to our apostolate. Poverty for them has its meaning in helping Christ's poor. Some develop this idea further by equating poverty with a

Issue 35.4 of the Review for Religious, 1976. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edtted by faculty members of St Louis University, the edttorlal offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1976 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $1.5.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Book Editor Assistant Editor July 1976 Volume 35 Number 4 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of .address should be sent to REvx~w FOR RELmiOVS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REviEw vOa RELmIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; .Phil'adelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. "Jesuits Today" Horacio de la Costa, S.J. Father de la Costa wrote the March contribution to'our series on the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus, "A More Authentic Poverty." He resides at Xavier House; P. O. Box 2722; Manila 2801; Phil!ppines. ' Just. before it adjourned, the 32nd General ~Congregation of the Society o[ Jesus arrived at a clear and distinct,idea of why it had met. This realiza-tion is expressed.in its In~troductory Dec.rce,~ which, being introductory, ~was of course taken up last. The decree makes several points. First, that the congregation immedi-ately, preceding, the 31st, sought toadapt Jesuit life to the directives of the Second Vatican Council. Second, that it did so in documents which '~ccuraiely and faithfully.~ express the genuine spirit and tradition of the Society." Third, that during the decade that followed, "significant" success attended the effort to reduce these documents to practice. Fourth, that that success Was circumscribed by "two exaggerations, each tending in an op-posite direction," the one a resistance, to renewal as being "somehow a de-parture from the genuine Ignatian spirit," ~the other an adaptation of Jesuits and their work to the needs of the world w.hich is excessix, e,,,and in fact "runs counter tom the .Gospel message." Fifth, that these conflicting tend-encie~ not only "threatened unity within the Society," but gave "cause for concern" both to the superior general of. the order and to the Pope. And hence, sixth, that the aim of the 32nd General Congregation was, by recog-nizing and removing these exaggerations, to achieve "a balanced renewal of 0religious life and a discerning re-dedication to apostolic service." A~ congregation delegate put it more imaginatively by saying that the 31st General Congregation had launched a satellite, to which the 32nd then 481 4a2 / Review for Religious, l/olume 35, 1976/4 proceeded to transmit certain course corrections, its intention being not to modify, much less to reverse its trajectory, but rather to focus it more ac-curately on its moving target. And that, while engaged in this exercise, the said congregation received a fairly strong input from the Vatican com-puters. The focus which the congregation decided to give the 'Society today centers on the concept of mission. More than ever before, mission--the act or state of being sent--must be a key element of the Jesuit's self-iden-tity. "A Jesuit . . . is essentially a man on a mission: a mission which he receives immediately from the Holy Father and from his own religious su-periors, but ultimately from Christ himself, the one sent by the Father. It is by being sent that the Jesuit becomes a companion ot~ Jesus.''1 Well, then, what is the mission on which Jesuits are being sent today? Considering only the multiplicity of works in which Jesuits are actually en-gaged, and leaving aside the multiplicity of works in which they think they should be engaged, it covers a very wide range indeed. But are these works merely a miscellany chosen at .random, a collection without internal co-hesion? Or is there some unifying, some integrating factor-pulling them together in a convergent thrust? The congregation decided that if there isn't there should be, and that it should be the service of faith and the pro-motion of justice considered as complementary facets of an undivided whole. "The mission of the Society of Jesus today is the service of faith, of which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement.'''~ This is the "basic choice," the "priority of priorities" for the Society at which the congregation arrived. How did it arrive at it? It may be well to consider this briefly, to consider not only the product, but the process by which it was produced. The product is this handful of documents which .~esuits are supposed to translate from words to action; to bring to iife in their lives. Well and good. The trouble is that they are texts, and legisla-tive texts at that. Paragraphs On parade, marching down page after page in neatly numbered companies, footnotes following after like a baggage train; all spick-and-span, i's dotted and t's crossed, treadling the measured tread of ecclesiastical Latin. Parade-ground texts, remot~ely reminding us of a battle, butobearing only a faint resemblance to a battlefield. ~ How can we make these texts come alive? Would it help to have re-course to one of Saint Ignatius' little devices for making things come alive? "First prelude, the history of what I am about to contemplate. Second pre-lude, a composition of place. Here it will be to see with the eyes of the imagination . '"~ Very well; and what will it be here? Perhaps, to try to see these texts as people; the people who produced them; the congregati 1GC 32, "Jesuits .Today," n. 14. :GC 32, "Our Mission Today," n. 2. 3Spi~ritual Exercises, n. 102. "Jesuits Today" / 4113 whom the Society sent to Rome to discern what its response should be to the call of Christ. See them there in that hall on Holy Spirit Street--Borgo Santo Spirito --men from widely different national, cultural, occupational, experiential backgrounds, who, in trying to fulfill their brothers' commission, strove strenuously not only with each other but with themselves, and in the pro-cess got confused, enlightened, dismayed,_ heartened, disheartened; lost courage and regained it; got bored, doodled, dreamed of home; went to the Gesfi to celebrate the Eucharist; got an insight; tried it out on a couple of companions over a plate of pasta and a flagon of Frascati; and finally ar-rived at the consensus congealed in these texts. We must not, then, be deceived by the asceptic neatness of these docu-ments. They are the fai'r cop, y of whai:at first looked like an illegible scrawl, but; in the end,. surprisingly, made sense. If God writes straight with crooked lines, then the g.roping and searching, the backing and filling, the findin.g and losing, the consolations and desolations which filled the house on Holy Spirit Stri~et with tongues of fire disguised as will-o'-the-wisps were the crooked lines with which God wrote straight for Jesuits; and it may help to see how straight God has written if we have some idea of how crooked were the lines. I am not, of course, suggesting that the congregati thought crooked. QO the contrary; the~y were straight-thinking, straight-shooting men. The trouble was that the targets they were shooting at seemed to weave wantonly from side to side, and sometimes to disappear altogether. I think most of them will agree that there was hardly a moment during the congregation when they were not in one way or another confused: confused by the ap-palling diversity of the Society's apostolic initiatives and commitments; con-fused by the added complication that Jesuits are inserted {hus variously in a world iri process of rapid change; confused by tensions old and new, in the Society and outside it, between generations, between the backward-looking and the forward-looking, between innovation and tradition, be-tween development and liberation, between ideology and praxis, between capita!ism and socialism, between the two sides of the Iron Curtain, between East and West. A confusion so great that if a consensus emerged--as it did --it is more than likely that that straight line was drawn not by the hand of man.but by the finger of God. The consensus is what is embodied in our text~; and what I am really trying t'o say, I suppose, is that to appreciate the consensus it is necessary to have some idea of the confusion that preceded it. The Introductory Decree speaks of "two exaggerations, each tending in an opposite direction," which "have threatened the unity of the Society.''~ 4n. 4. 41~4 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 One cannot say that the exaggerations themselve~ ~vere present at the con-gregation., but one might suggest that the tendencies they exaggerat~ were. The congregation seems to have brought into confrontation two radically different ways of thinking about the Society ~nd its mission, so different as to seem irreconcilable. One approach was conservative, traditional, back-ward- looking; the other was radical, inno.vati~;e, forward-looking. In Commission I on the Norms of the ApoStolate, Commission II on the Missiofi of the Society, and Commission IV on the Promotion of Jus-tice, what the "radicals" seemed to be saying was this: "Let's start from the facts'. Let's" look at what has to be done in th~ world and let's do that. What kind of work? Never mind what kind o,f work, as long as it works! We must do only 'Jesuit' works? There are no 'Jesuit' works! What does Pedro Arrup~e say? 'Jesuit identity ~s to have no identity!' " To which the "conservatives" seemed to r~eply: "Now, wait. You can't possibly mean that. ~'ou can't possibly mean that there is no specifically Jesuit apostolate. There must be something 'Jesuit' a Jesuit is supposed to do. Start with the facts? What facts? Real facts, or what are alleged to be facts by those who have already de,ideal ffhat they want to do? Let's not start with such facts. Let's start with something more certain and secure: the Formula of the Institute, the Constitutions, the Spiritual Exercises, the directives of Paul VI. Let's reflect on what the~, say we should be doing, and let's do that. There are others in the Church ahd in the world ~;~o c/an do the rest, and do it better. What does John Janssens say? 'We can-not be Divine Providence.' " Two approaches to the apostolate. Two "niind-sets," each convinc6d that"it was i'ight and the other wrong. And so there was debate. No need to pl~y down the fact that there was debate: a cl~ish of argument' on a corn= mon ground of discourse. It will not do to give ttiis congregation the image of a group of gi-6wn men politely bowing to each other and saying, "Ah, so? That is what you think? How nice! Thank y.ou very much!" And each or~e going off, as the poet says, "eonvinced against~ his will, but of the same opinion still." A "confrontation, then, conducted for the. most. part with sweet reason-ableness, but not without sound and fury. Such at least was the impression given by couriers to the staff officers of the Deputatio ad Secernenda Pos-tulata (the commission to validate initiatives taken by Jesuits, individually or corporately, for consideration of the co.ngi'egation), standing on.their rise o~ ground ab.o~ve the smoke of battle: Committee Room P, fourth floor. But when the smoke of battle cleared, and the field glasses went up to sur-vey the sh~m. bles, it became visible even to the naked eye that,what began a's a confrontati6n had turned out to be a convergence. What happened? Some would say that debate had given way to discern-ment, It may well be. 1 do not know enough about discernment to be cer-tain. My personal observation is that as the~congregation progressed people "Jesuits Today" / 485 were listening more to each other, and were more inclined to question not only those from whom they differed, but themselves. Thus: We must promote justice. That is the conclusion imposed by the facts. Yes; but what is justice? What do I really mean by it? Or rather, what does the Gospel say it is? , Or again: The. Formula of the Institute says that we are a society founded for the .defense and propagation of the faith, Yes; but how do you defend and propagate the faith? By word alone? Also by wit'ness? What kind of witness? What kind of witness in a divided' world? And further: Jesuits in the developed world must be chiefly concerned with secularism, with the~ marginalization of Christianity in societies an-ciently Christian. Jesuits in the underdev.eloped world, on the other hand, must be chiefly concerned with underdevelopment, with' the marginalization of the powerless in unjust societies. Certainly; but are these two phenomena completely distinct? Or are they somehow related? How related? And finally: Take a look at the Constitutions, Part VII, where Saint Ignatius lays down his norms for the selection of ministries: the more uni-versal good, the more lasting good;,.help to those most in need of help, works that have a "multiplier" effect, spiritual works by preference, but corporal works if more urgent. Apply these norms to our moment of his-tory, and what do you corne up with? ~ . It was by some such process of shared reflection that the two mind-sets we have described discovered, initially to their discomfiture, increas~ ingle, to their delight, that they were saying the same thing. More precisely, that they were in the same boat; rowing, ,bailing, or busily polishing brass, but in the same boat, with Diakonia Fidei (Service of Faith) stenciled on the port side and' Promotio lustitiae on the starboard side. ,A pretty rocky boat, to be' sure; not quite,rigged and already slightly battered; with cracks to be sealed, sails to be set, a course to be charted; but one boat, not two planks from a shipwreck. And not completely at .sea, either; for we now have, by this callida.iunctura of faith and justice, a focus to our apostolate, a destination for our mission. The convergence can be more clearly seen by juxtaposing nn. 4 and 10 of the document "Jesuits Today" and nn. 2 and 3 of the document "Our Mission Today." We arrive at this basic choice' from several different points of departure. The postulata received from the provinces, the panorama of the state of the Society presented at the congregation, and the suggestions given us .by the PoPe, ~all direct our .attention to the vast expanse, and circuit of this globe and the great multitude and diversity of peoples therein . We are con-firmed in this basic choice by being led to it from another point of departure, namely; the original inspiration of the Society as set ~forth in the Formula of the Institute hnd the Constitutions . 486 / Review]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 The mission of the Society of Jesus today is the service of faith~ of which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement . In one form or another, this has always been the mission of the Society; but it gains new meaning and urgency in the light of the needs and aspirations of the men of our time, and it is in that light that we embrace it anew. Put that way, it sounds pretty obvious. The point, however, is that when the congregation began it was by no means obvious; that it became obvious by a convergence of two different approaches in a process of interaction; and that this convergence was, for many in the congregation, a discovery. Closely allied to the problem of what Jesuits do is the problem of what Jesuits are. There was a far greater number of postulata from the provinces concerning the first problem than concerning the second. However, there were enough for the Deputatio ad Secernenda Postulata to decide to form an Intercommission on Jesuit Identity. Why an "intercommission"? For two reasons, First, because its members were recruited from the regular commissions which had already been formed. Second, because the Deputatio's instructions were that this group should be a link between the other commissions; or rather, a listening post, lis-tening in on all of them to pick up and put together what they were saying that could have a bearing on Jesuit identity. But why did the question of identity come up at all? What gave rise to the postulata on the subject? One reason might have been the feeling that many of those who leave the Society do so because they no longer have, perhaps never had, a clear idea of what it is to be a Jesuit, or why they should be Jesuits rather than something else. Or else, the concern that we are engaging in all sorts of development work, justice promotion, political action, and other efforts to build up a more human world, but doing so according to the norms, ideals, and procedures of secular agencies or move-ments engaged in the same enterprise; in effect, that we are identifying our-selves with them instead of making the' original, the unique contribution we are called upon to make as an apostolic, religious, sacerdotal body. Which, incidentally, is what the.more reflective among the secular humanists them-selves expect us to make. They don't expect us to do0what they are already doing: They expect us to do "our thing." But what is "our thing"? We do not seem to be quite clear on that. This intercommission, then, was told to do something about the problem, but it was also very distinctly told that it was not to make up "Jesuit iden-tity" oui of its own head. It was by all means to avoid being creative. Its job was simply to find out what the congregation itself was saying about Jesuit identity, explicitly or imlSlicitly, in the course of its deliberations on mission, formation, poverty, government, community lift; and if it succeeded in drafting a statement on the subject, to sub/nit the draft to the congrega-tion for approv~il. The result is the document entitled "Jesuits Today." An earlier title, "Jesuit Identity," was rejected by the congregation, and "Jesuits Today" / 4117 rightly so. This document is in no sense a formal definition of the Society or of the Jesuit. It is simply a descriptive summary of some of the attributes that may serve to identify Jesuits both to themselves and to others. Even as a description it is certainly not definitive, for Jesuit identity, like that of any other personality, is, first of all, elusive; it cannot be pinned down or exhaustively catalogued in any statement. And it is elusive chiefly because it is in [ieri, in process of becoming: the identity of a living and growing thing which keeps changing while remaining itself. Some future congrega-tion will doubtless find it necessary to draw up another statement of Jesuit identity. That is why it was finally decided to call this document simply "Jesuits Today." As the effort at self-understanding of persons who do not take them-selves too seriously, it was given, inevitably, other, less formal titles. "Cari-dent: the toothpaste with Formula 32, a special blend of charism and iden-tity, guaranteed to enhance that dazzling, distinctive Jesuit smile." "ldenti-kit." the police portrait of the mystery man going around holding up people and asking them, 'Who am I?' " But "identikit" is not just a gibe. It contains a thought of Father Arrupe's which he expressed to the Intercommission on Identity~ I hope I may be forgiven for paraphrasing it here. A photograph of Jesuit identity is not possible, only an approximate likeness, as in an identikit. Why? Interiorly, spiritually, we do have an iden-tity:, the Ignatian spirit, insofar as we live it. But exteriorly, apostolically, what is Jesuit identity? It is to have no identity. We have no specifically Jesuit ministries, as other religious institutes might have: not education, not social action, not parishes, not this or that form of action or contemplation, 'but only what here and now God wants done. The document begins with the first and most obvious clue to a Jesuit's identity: his name: Jesuitbsomeone who pertains to, who belongs to, Jesus. Everyone knows how tenaciously Saint Ignatius clung to that name. Nothing could induce him to change it, This complete certitude that he and his company are something that belong to Jesus seems to be based on the spiritual experience Ignatius had at La Storta, a.wayside chapel just outside Rome. He was making his way to Rome from the north on foot, and all the way he was praying to Our Lady that he might be "placed with the Son." Arrived at La Storta, he had this vision, or enlightenment, or insight, in which the Eternal Father asks Jesus carrying his cross to take this pil-grim into his company. And Jesus accepts him. It is interesting that in all this the Lord is not called Christ but Jesus. Jesus, his personal name. Which suggests that for Ignatius being "placed with the Son" meant entering into a personal relationship with him, a rela-tionship of personal love. This is confirmed by the fact that when his com-panions asked him what our Lord's words to him ("I shall be propitious to you at Rome") meant, Ignatius replied with great joy, "I don't know. Maybe it means we shall b~ crucified with him in Rome!" A love relation- 488 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 ship, then, not just between servant and master, not just between soldier and cat~tain, but between sinner and Savior. This brings us to what the document sees as another clue to Jesuit iden-tity. The Jesuit is a man who has come to a vivid realization not only of his sinful acts but of his isinfulness; and with equal vividness has come to realize that his conversion, his turning back to God, began not with him but with Jesus: the saving love of Jesus reaching out to him, in his sinful-ness. "You did not choose me; no, I chose ~,ou.'''~ If, then, the Jesuit is' one who, following Ignatius, asks to be placed with Jesus, it is because he is responding to love: the love of Jesus which, beyond,all expectation, antici-pates and seeks his love. His response is that of the converted sinner. These are the two related thoughts with which the document begins: "What is it to be a Jesuit? It is to know that one is a sinner, yet called to be a companion of Jesus.''G There was some objection at the congregation~'to beginning the docu-ment with" this confession of sinfulness, this "beating, of breasts." It was thought to be overacting~ or over-reacting to the alleged Jesuit.propensity to arrogant ~triumphalism. Does this show.of humility really counteract that impression--if, indeed, it is the impression Jesuits give? Is it not, in fact, a kind of triumphalism in reverse? Why not simply ~and immediately focus on the central element of Jesuit. identity, that of being socius lesu: the com-panion of Jesus, the man who has answered the call of the Eternal King? Perhaps. But the point is that that is not how~Ignatius began. And that is not how the Spiritual Exercises begin. Ignatius the Jesuit begins with what James Brodrick calls the "pilgrim years," when this wandering penitent signed his letters "Ignacio pecador": Ignatius, sinner. And the Exercises begin not with 'the Meditation on the Kingdom but with the First Week: with the effort to realize thfit the love of Jesus has reached out to me in my sinfulness. They begin, in fact, even before that. They .begin with the First Principle and Foundation: with the love of Jesus reaching out to me in my nothingness; by the act of creation choosing me out of nothing. That in the. mind of Ignatius it is-Jesus who does this, is suggested by the fact that both in the Exercises and the Con-stitutions there is constant attribution to the Second Person incarnate not only the title of Savior but of tfiat of Creator. The next few paragraphs of the document: bring out what seems to be another essential i~ngredient of Jesuit identity. It is outward-looking more than it is inward-looking. After his conversion, the Jesuit fixes his gaze not so much on what goes on in tlie soul within him ~at on what goes on in the world around him. We are all familiar with the popular (and, one hopes, .~Jn 15.16. G"Jesuits Today," n. Ol. 7nh. 4-9. "Jesuits Today" / 4119 distorted) image of the Jesuit as a worldling, inclined to involve himself in mundane affairs which are none of his business; conducting himself in a manner far removed from the popular (and equally distorted) image of the "man of the cloth" as so completely wrapped up in, things divine that he cannot even change a blown fuse when the lights go out. Well; let's face it. There is an element of truth in this. We will find it in the initial response of the converted sinner as expressed in the key colloquy of the First Week of' the Exercises: "What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ?. What must I do for Christ?" What to do. What, and where, is the action. This is not the initial response of other types or schools of spirituality. By way of contrast, we might paraphrase a passage from the Chinese phi: losopher Mencius, of which', surely, there are echoes in the Western world: Yoti wish to find God? God is in the heavens, .the infinite heavens. But the infinite heavens are reflected in a small pool deep.in a,well-~-the well of your soul. Plunge, then, into your soul, and there find God. But that is not what the Jesuit does.~ What the Jesuit does.is go into the Second Week of the.Exercises. There he hears Christ calling for-com-panions to go with him to conquer the~world,s There ~he looks up to God in his .Trinity of persons and finds their gaze also, fixed on the world, whose salvation they are d~ciding to accomplish? There,.he, sees Christ choosing mento send into the world to proclaim his sacred tehching,to persons ot~ every class and calling.~° From which it appears that the Jesuit instinct (or charism) is not to withdraw from the world to be~alone with God, but rather to turn to the world and ask himself, "Wh~t~ can Io do for God. in this world in whose midst I am, and to which I am sent?" This would seem to be the force of Saint Ignatius; assertion that the grace,by which the Jesuit is driven to serve men is identical with the grace by which he achieves his pe~:sonal salvation.1~ Or, as our document puts,it: "The grace of Christ that enables ~nd impels us to seeko'the salvation~and perfection.of souls' or what might be called in contemporary terms the integral liberation of man, leading to participation in the life, of God himself is the same grace by which we are enabled and impelled to seek 'our own salvation and perfection.' ,,1~ It was suggested earlier that "Jesu.its Today." is an "echo" document, echoing in the key of identity what the other documents of the congregation say about mission, compa~nionsh]p, freedoha, dis~ernment,~ and love. The emphasis ,on mission: that the Jesuit is essentially a man who is sent by Christ through the mediation ot~ those who hold Christ's authority, is clearly an echo of the document "Our Mission Today." 8Spir. Ex., n. 95. .~lbid., nn. 106-107. aOlbid., n. 145. a~General Examen, n. 3. ~-~"Jesuits Today," n. 1~1. 490 / Review for Religious, °l~'olume 35, 1976/4 The emphasis on companionship: that the Jesuit is essentially a com-panion, a companion of Christ first, but in Christ also of those whom he has called to the same companionship, is similarly an echo of the document on "Union of Minds and Hearts." The emphasis on freedom: that the Jesuit is essentially a man who is free, or rather, a man who has been set free, and this, paradoxically, by the vows that bind him, is an echo, at least in part, of the document on Poverty. The attitude towards the vows here brought out as characteristi-cally Jesuit is that they are not meant to enclose a man, to protect him from the world, to pluck him from the madding crowd and wall him up in some pleasance of peaceful contemplation--in the matchless phrase of Fray Luis de Le6n~ ~'la escondida senda por donde han ido/los pocos sabios que en el ~mundo hart sido"---but to detach him; to hack away from him all en-cumbering armor, and thus to free him from the constraints that may hold him back from any service in the world that Christ working in the world may require of him. The emphasis on discernment: that obedience for the Jesuit not only permits but demands discretion, is an echo, again, ,both of "Our Mission Today" and "Union of Minds and Hearts." It recalls Ignacio Iparraguirre's dictum that the Constitutions are not so much law-book as guide-book, and Pedro Arrupe's oft-repeated saying that being told what to do does not exempt us from the necessity of discerning how to do. In thi~ connection, it is surely significant that the command "to water a dry stick, or "to bring a lioness unto him (the superior)" of the Ignatius/Polanco Letter on Obedi-ence does not include detailed instructions on where to get the water or how to persuade the lioness. And, finally, the emphasis on love: that the Jesuit is essentially a man moved by a personal love for the personal Christ, is an echo not of any particular document but of what might be called the La Storta insight, which seems to have been recaptured, to a greater or less degree, by so many of the delegates to this congregation. As Father General Arrupe, bouncing up the back stairs of the house on Holy Spirit Street after breakfast one morning, put it to one of them, sleepily drifting down: "We proclaim the Gospel in poverty and humility-- fine. But perhaps to add: in love. There is much concern today about loving the Mystical Christ, seeing and serving him in our fellow men, espe-cially the poor; and that is good. But if we do this, is it not because we love Christ in himself, in his Person? Is it not because each of us, pilgrims with Ignatius, prays to the Father 'ponerme con el Hijo' (place me with the Son)?" Which obiter dictumomay serve to explain why our document says: "In love: a personal love for Jesus, whom we seek to know with an ever more inward knowledge that we may the better love and follow him; Jesus, whom "Jesuits Today" / 491 we seek, as Saint Ignatius Sought, to experience; Jesus, Son ot~ God, sent to serve, sent to set free, put to death, and risen from the dead.''~3 There is a lack of definition in what the document says about the So-ciety as a priestly body.TM It strongly asserts the elements which make up this attribute: that the core, as it were, of our membership is a group of brdained priests; that the vocation .to the Society is one; that it is the whole body of the Society that is priestly; and, consequently, that all its members share in that priestly attribute, even those who are not ordained ministers" of the Gospel. But as to the precise nature of that participation the document says nothing. This reflects pretty much the state of the question as the con-gregation left it. The general sentiment was that further theological reflec-tion was needed to say anything more on the subject, and it was hoped that this reflection would form a vital part of our ongoing renewal of spirit. If we now take a look at the document as a whole, we will notice that it has a certain quality of movement: this movement being, basically, that of the Spiritual Exercises. In other words, Jesuit identity is conceived not as state but as process. Companionship with Jesus begins with conversion: the realization that having been called to life by God Creator, then estranged from him by sin, I have been recalled to life by God Redeemer. This realization draws me to stand before (~hrist crucified and make my first oblation: What will I do for Christ? The First Week. Hard upon this conversion comes the call of Christ the King: "I want you to b~come my companion, and the companion of these Others whom I have also called." To do what, Lord? "To be sent, as I was sent. Into the world; not away from it. This world, your world; in all its diversity, agony, tragedy, hope: Sent to share with people the saving faith I have shared with you, and in my justice to reconcile men to God and men with each other." My response to which is my second oblation, the~Kingdom obla-tion: to bring Christ to men not by the witness of word alone but by the witness of life: in poverty, humility, and love. The Second Week. What is 'the range of this oblation? It involves all that the apostolate involves--for Jesus as well as those Who have asked to be'placed with him. Some' experience of success, certainly, and an abiding serenity; but also frustration, b~trayal, defeat, nakedness to p~in. An oblation to failure. An oblation t6 the CrosS. The Third Week. But out of the depths of failure, joy. The joy of total and mutual self-giving: Jesus to me, myself to Jesus. Day by day joyfully going to ttie work site with God the Workingman--habet se ad modum laborantis to build a world at once more human and more divine. My third oblation. Take and receive. 131bid., n. 27. 14Cf. ibid., nn. 21-22. The Freedom and Detachment of Submission Sister Mary Catherine Barron, C.S.J. Sister Mary Catherine last published in our pages in the March, 1976 isstie of Review for Religious. She resides at 808 Cypres.s St.; Rome, NY 13440. ' In his Asian-Journal, under a November 19 entry, Thomas Merton speaks of three doors which he posits as desirable for the eschatological pilgrim to enter: "the door of emptiness, the door without sign, the door without wish."' And in an earlier work of his, C~ontemplation in d Worl~l~of Action, Merton tells of the internal spiritual liberation which such surrender of self brings: ". a kind of permanent vacation in the original sense of 'emptying.' ''~ Perhaps it would be fitting for each of us in our individual lives to pon-der the possibility of taking a "vacation" through these three rather unin-viting doors. ~ Father JohnoQ. Haughey, S.J., in his most recent.book Should Anyone Say Forever? recounts a pos~sible interpretation of the statement of Jesus in Matthew 7:13-14 where he tells his disciples to "enter by the narrow gate" since this alone "leads to life." Father Haughey says: "The narrow gate Jesus was alluding to probably refers to the gate in Jerusalem which could only ~accommodate people unaccompanied by their possessions and camels and donkeys.''3 If we are to become such a people "v~cationing" through 1Thomas Merton. "The Himalayas/November 1-25." The Asian Journal ot Thomas Merton (New York: New Directions Paperback, 1973), p. 154. '-'Thomas Merton, "Problems and Prospects," Contemplation in a World o] A'ction (New York: Image Books, 1973), p. 36. aJohn C. Haughey, S.J., "The Underpinnings," Should Anyone Say Forever? (New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1975), p. 21. ,~ 492 The Freedom and Detachment o[ Submission / 493 ngaargreo-w-t ghaetne si ta nsed. te_~rr.ar.inss"p athreant tw doe omrsu, sutn benecguinm tbheere jdo ubyrn eexyc ewssit the mtwpoor raal tbhaegr- im-portant spiritual qu~ilities: freedom and detachment. And since Jesus never exhorted his foil6wers to any endeavor that he himself would not surpas, singly complete, qt would be well to follow in. his footsteps on the roadway to and through t_,hese beckoning (but sometimes, frightening) entrance-ways to the Kingdom. " The Free Christ '-Jesus was' a free man, able ~o commit himself to a way of life which in-evitably and irrev6.cab.!y would end in ignominious agony. Because he wa's free,,,he was also. supremely detached froin the picayune compromises Of life by which we' s6 ~asi!y bind ourselves to ~he transient. Categorically'~l~eaking, it seems that Jesus was free enough to:°sub-ject himself to 6th~rS (in his case, always his inferiors); subject himself to the law (re, ligi~'s and civil); subjeCt~ himself to the Transcendent (his Faiher). And ~e.c.a.u.s.e he was' unafraid of that type of subjection which we, in ~so utterly a human stance, avoid, C'firist becomes the detach.ed and liber-ated man, par ~exi~ellenc¢--i.nfi.nitely able to detach and .liberate us for him-self. Submission to Others ~,, In all. of hi,s relationships with others . (his creatures).,~ Jesus is able to submit{ His first profound submissibh in the womb of Mary initiates the patter.n of "nm:row gate" and "doors ,w, ithout signs" that he follows through-out 'his. life. Frbm the early Temple .expe.rience: "And he then~.went down with them . .;.'~and lived under their au, thority" (Mary and,. Joseph.), to Ca~a: "They have no wine" (whe~ he lberforms his first miracle through the intercession Of his mother), thro~ugh .his public, life: "Lord, that I may see~gain" (miracle after miracle upon request), to Calvary:" . ~h et y¯, . ,~,.led him awfiy to crucify, him,'! Jesus fi~lfills~ th6 will of others. Had he .done so out b.f mere fiuman weakness, or .the inability to assert himself and dominate, or through the petty hop~ of gaining prestige and popularity, wealth and'status, his final submission atGolgotha would be but the ~pathetic end,to an :already. doomed demi,gOd. But Jesus submits freely--in total self, surrender--comPletely in control o~ his own life and that of his corn temporaries. Knowingly, willingly, in complete gix;enness, he yields to others. Why? Why such a profound stooping into emptiness, into human obliterr ation, into the undesired door of death to self? "I have come that they may have life and have. it to the full,"-.J'~.sus answers (Jn 10:10). The words are haunting because they imply that fullness of life commensurately grows as we become more liberated and detached for others. If this is the pat-tern for Christ, can it be any,different for his followers? ~ 494 / Review [or Religioux, ~'olume 35, 1976/4 Submission to the Law Jesus also demonstrates throughout his earthly, existence that interior freedom enables one to become so detached from self that adherence to imposed human statutes becomes possible. He is born according to the law of the Scriptures, in fulfillment of the prophetic words and visions trumpeted through the ages of Salvation His-. tory, in complete accordance with all the signs and symbols which mani-fest his coming. And he dies in the same manner, as derided and rejected as Isaiah had seen that he would be, "lifted up" as he himself proclaimed, under Jewish rejection and Roman assent. And situated between those two n~atural, human laws of birth and death remain the countless daily submis-sions to civil and religious law which Christ fully and freely accepts. He announces in the Temple that "this day the Scriptures are fulfilled in your midst" (and in his person) while at the same time having scrupu-lously adhered to the proscribed religious rites. In response to the legalistic baiting by which the Pharisees hop,e to entrap him: "Master, is it permissi-ble for us to pay taxes to Caesar or not?" (Lk 20:22) Jesus judiciously replies: "Give to Caesar the things that are Caesar's; to God the things that are God's," thus delineating the parameters of civil and religious obedience. Ironically, it is his fulfillment of religious law (the feast of the Passover) which brings him to Jerusalem--to Annas, Caiaphas, and Pilate who sen-tence him to death. In the presence of these designated earthly authorities, Jesus, detached, submissive, and free, recalls the only reason for anyone's submission to human law: "You would have no power over me if it had not been given you from above" (Jn 19:11). Knowing this and authorizing it, Christ, freely gives himself over to these misguided, conniving, fearful, self-centered representatives of the Law, who wash their hands of him and conclude that "it is better for one man to die than that the whole nation perish" (Jn ~11:50). Again we are tempted to ask the question "why"--why this submission to human laws and human beings by one who is their Source and Origin? Perhaps the better question would be "how"? How do we become liberated and detached enough to do the same? Submission to the, Transcendent Once again Jesus provides us with the answer: "The world must be brought to know that I love the Father and that I am"doing exactly what the Father told me" (Jn 14:31). In other words, he tells us that we will only be able to submit ourselves to temporal rules and temporal persons if we have first submitted to the Eternal Rule and the Eternal Person: "Love the Lord, your God with your whole heart and soul and mind" (Lk 10:27). Christ did; Totally, constantly, unswervingly, he submitted to his Father: "I come not to do my own will but the will of the one who sent me" (Jn 5:30). And it is this~awareness of the Father's will and the Father's The Fr'eedom and Detachment of Submission / 495 love that is the motivating force of all of Christ's other submissions: "No one has ever seen God; it is the only Son who is nearest to the Father's heart, who has made him known" (Jn 1:18). Christ makes the Father known through his execution of the Father's will In the name of his Father, he cleanses the Tempir, restoring it as a place of worship, proclaiming it his Father's hous~e, and thus establishing, in one dramatic act, the power of his filial submission. In all his conversations with men, Christ consciously mentions the Father. To Nicodemus, he confides the reason that he has been commis-sioned by his Father: "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not be lost but may have eternal life" (Jn 3: 17). To the Samaritan woman, he outlines the "kind of wor-. shipper the Father wants" (Jn 4:23). To the Jews, he openly acknowledges his dependence on the Father: "The Son can do nothing by himself; he can 0nly do what he sees the Father.doing" (Jn 5:19). And when his disciples ask him to "show us how to pray," .Christ refers them to the Father. Even when he teaches, Christ does so in the name of the Father. And the only authority he possesses for his teaching derives from his submis-sion to the Father: "The works my Father has given me to carry out, these same works of mine testify that the Father hasjsent me" (Jn 5:36); His final great submission to the Father coincides with Christ's final great submission to religious and civil law as dispensed through the hands of his human subjects. In perfect freedom, detachment, and submission, Christ foretells and then completes his passion and death. When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am he and that I do nothing of myself: what the Father has taught me is what I preach; He who sent me is with me, and has not left me to myself, for I always do what pleases him (Jn 8:28-29). Having uttered these profrundly simple words, Jesus stoops through the "narrow gate" of death, passes through the ."door of emptiness, the dorr without a sign, the door without desire"--the Cross. The Father loves me because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me; I lay it down of my own free will, And as it is in my power to lay it down, so it is in my power to take it up again; and this is the command I have been given by my Father (Jn 10:17-18). What liberation and detachment infuse these submissive words! 496 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 The Paradox Merton would be among the first to assent to the paradox inherent in freedom, detachment, and liberation. He states: "Obedience [submission] is, paradoxically, the one guarantee of . . . charismatic, inner liberty" ~Contemplation, p. 34). And Christ himself was the first to demonstrate the paradoxical dimension inherent in following him: "Anyone who loves his life loses it; anyone ~vho hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life" i, Jn 12:25). The choice~is ours to mal~e. Haughey cogently reminds us that b~, our choices we are irrevocably defined (Should Anyone ¯ . . , p. 32). And Christ urgently.prods us to make his own irrevocable ~hoice. ours, when he claims:~ Eternal life is this; to know you, " the only true God ~" ~'~ ~ and Jesus Christ whom you have sent (Jn 17:4). In such knowledge, indeed, resides the foUndatiori arid reward for all the liberation, detachment~ and Submissidn of thepi!grim heart. ~ t'The three doors (they are one door) . .' Christ said: '!~am the door. I am the op~er~ing, the. '.shewing,' the revelation'" (Asian-Journal, pp. 154- 155). "Come follow m6"--through the "narrow gate~" through the "'un-marked, undesired doors;" into thd liberation and detachment of submis-sion- the Chri~tic "vacation" of love. The ,,'Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life David M. Knight Father Knight is a member of the House o! the Lord community which staffs a "house of prayer" established in Memphis under the jurisdiction of Bishop Dozier. His present work is mostly in the. area of priests' retreats and team approaches to parish missions. He has published" before in 6ur page~, his latest title concerning religious government and obe~lience (July, i97]). His address: Nazarettl 'House of the Lord; 1306 Dellwood Ave.; Memphis, TN 38127. Can we still use the terminolbgy: "active-cQntemplative-mixed" to char-acterize religious life today? Aiad if we do use these tdims, ar, e we really using them in the way St. Thomas understood them--a way that carries oo the aut.horit3~ of his own tSrestige? Father Ladislas Orsy, S.J., suggests:that we abandon this terminology with its threefold division 9f religious life:" The arguments against the division are manifold. First,, all religious institutes are called to .be con~templative. Then, there cannot be true apostolic action in the ,full sense without its being rooted in the inspiration and strength of the Spirit which is contemplation." Finoally, tl~e express!on "mixed life" does not make s+nse. Action has to grow fi'om contemplation; they are 6rganically united, not mixed. ¯ . . "~here~'ore, so far as the distinction has a foundation, it must lie in the external way of life of these communities; in the specific approach to the realization of contemplation and action. TO avoid confusion, it might be better to describe this differentiation among religious by spe~king about fully enclosed life. moderately enclosed life, and fully open way of life. (Open to the Spirit, Washington (Corpus Books), 1968, pp. 271-272). 497 4911 / Review for Religious, l/'olume 35, 1976/4 Fathers Thomas M. Gannon, S.J., and George W. Traub, S.J. present St. Thomas's division as a distinction between "the contemplative life, the active life, and the apostolic life" (The Desert and the City, New York: Macmillan, 1969, p. 142). So far as I have been able to discover, St. Thomas does not use the term "apostolic" any more than he uses the term "mixed'" to describe a category of religious life (see George E. Ganss, S.J., " 'Active Life' or 'Contemplative Life'" in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 22 (1963) pp. 53-66, esp. p. 61). He teaches that human life in general is divided simply into "active life" and "contemplative life" (Summa Theo-logica, II-II, Q. 179, art. 1) and that, in itself, the contemplative life is "more excellent" than the active (ibid., Q. 182, art. 1). But he adds that a man might be "called away from the contemplative life to the works of the active life on account of some necessity of the present life, yet not so as to be compelled to forsake contemplation altogether. Hence it is clear" that when a person is called from the contemplative to the active life, this is done by way not o] subtraction but o] addition" (ibid., ad 3, emphasis added). There is much evidence in St. Thomas's treatment of this subject to conclude that Thomas would consider all religious as belonging essentially to the category of contemplative life. Some reasons for this are: 1. The religious state is directed to the perfection of charity, which extends to the love of God and of 6ur neighbor (Q. 188, aLt. 2). But to direct one's whole life to growing in loving knowledge of God without which the perfection of charitY is impossible is to embrace the goal of the contemplative life. 2. The active life has two senses for St. Thomas: a) a life directed to the practice of the moral virtues as con-trasted with the theological virtues. The moral virtues (pru-dence, justice, temperance, fortitude) aim at the correctness of man,s external actions toward persons and things in this world (Q. 181, art. 1 and Q. 180, art. 2, Sed contra). The theological virtues (faith, hope, charity)aim at knowledge and love of God himself, as object. It is obvious that no one striving for the "perfection of charity" can make th~ moral virtues the goa.1 of his life. And Thomas teaches explicitly that if a person is practicing the moral virtues in order to arrive at contemplation, he is in the contemplative rather than in the active life (Q. 181, art. 1 and 2). And this is what religious do. b) In a second meaning, the active life is one which is taken up with external activities, such as active works of service to the neighbor. When Thomas argues in favor of this for religious he always seems to be working on the assump-tion that the religious in question is in the contemplative life, The "Active-Contemplative" Problem / 499 but that he accepts to leave contemplation partly or tempo-rarily and add works of the active life "in order that God's will may be done and for His glory's sake" (Q. 182,~ arts. 1 .~ and 2). That he assumes this to be the case when religious engage in active works is indicated by his answer to the question "Whether a religious order should be established for the works of the active life?" One objection against the proposition is that' every religious order belongs to the state of perfection, but the perfection of the religious state consists in the contemplation of divine things (Q. 188, art. 2, obj. 1). Thomas doesn't contradict this. He ~imply answers, "Since religious occupy themselves with' the works of the ' " active life for God's,sake, it follows that their action-results~ ]rom their contemplation o] divine things. Hence, they are not entirely deprived of the fruit of the contemplative life." (Emphasis added.) St. Thomas recognizes; however, that active work may result from contemplation in two ways. It may be that the work results from the full-ness of contemplation. A man contemplates God until"he is filled with a wisdom, an insight into the mind and heart of God, a graced understand-ing of the Scriptures, that overflows his heart and is shared with the neigh-bor 'in preaching or teaching. For St. Thomas, obviously, preaching and teaching are not something°'a .man .is prepared to do by academic study. The intellectual who is not a contemplative cannot teach or preach in St. Thomas's sense of the words, which refer precisely to a sharing with others of the fruits of one's contemplation. The merely academic teacher of theology, the eloquent intellectual in the pulpit, are nothing but sounding brass' and tinkling cymbal; their activity does not even enter into this dis-cussion. There are other works of the active life which do not presuppose the fullness of~contemplation: active works of service for the neighbor, such as taking care of guests, nursing the sick,., and so forth. And yet, if they are engaged in such works out of love for God and a desire to serve him perfectly in his Body on earth, they do proceed at least from a beginning of contemplation; from a prayerful response to the Scriptures. (If, such work should, in any given person, proceed from a merely humanitarian concern for others, it ~would not.be~ a Christian act, and again would not even enter into our discussion here. )" Also, St. Thomas presumes that, in religious, such activity is directed to the end of religious life, which is the '~perfection of charity." And since, as we have seen, this perfection cannot be conceived apart from contemplation which attains God directly in faith, hope and love, we must conclude that this activity, in a religious, is directed to the end of the contemplative life. In other words, a religious engaging in such active labors is; in 'fact, a contemplative.A given religious may not 500 / Review lot Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 be a contemplative in the sense of having already attained that degree of spiritual deepening and prayer., which enables him or her actually to con-template in the full sense of this word, or to share with others the fruits of contemplative insight into the mysteries of God. But the religious is still a contemplative by reason of the.end to which his or her life is directed. Thus a postulant or candidate in a religious house who has not yet begun to pray seriously, who perhaps has little or no spiritual ~xperience to share with his neighbor~ and who spends his day washing dishes in the kitchen or teaching some secular shbject in a school--that person is, nevertheless, already in the "contemplative life." He is a contemplative in the same sense that a fetus in the womb is a human being: he is not yet sufficiently developed to function fully as a contemplative, but he is already intrinsically ordered, by a free choice of his destiny, to the "perfection of charity," to loving knowledge of God answered by a total gift of oneself. We should also apply to this qtiestion St. Thomas's reasoning about the pursuit of moral virtues belonging to the contemplative rather than to the active life if contemplation is its ultimate end (Q. 181, art. 1 and 2). If a man engages in :active works, but with the intention that through these he will rise to a more and more loving knowledge of God (contempla-,, tion), then this man, too, is inthe contemplative life, although .he.is occu-pied in the ,w~orks of the active life. We should remember here that even a monk in the most enclosed contemplative monastery is still engaged :in the works of the '.'active life"---even though he.is called a contemplative~ so long as he is at that stage of spiritual growth in which his main concern is acquiring moral virtues, and his prayer life is sti'il on the level of active meditation, spiritual reading, and such (see John of the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel, Book II, ch. 17, par. 4). To be engaged in the "works of~ the active life" not only means doing what we popularly refer to as "active work"--teaching, nursing, repairing houses, keeping books, etc. In its most fundamental sense this expression means actively using one's human powers to bring about, a change, whether in oneself or in outside reality, whether one does this through carpentry or through meditation on the. gospels. Contemplation, on the other hand, is resting in what one has~ already learned, already come to love, letting oneself be transformed without labor (not without pain) into what one sees. Where meditation is studying,~,think-ing, deciding, contemplation is looking, listening, loving. Thus we conclude that religious, even though entirely taken up with° external activity, truly belong in the category of "coritemplative life" so long as their works-- whether of moral virtue or of service to others--are not, for them, ter-minal activities in themselves, but means to arrive at a more loving knowP-edge of and union with God. As St. Thomas puts it: "When a man makes use of~ things pertaining to the active life, merely as dispositions to con-templation, such things are comprised under theocontemplative life" (Q. 181, art. 1; and see Q. 180, art. 4). We might have to. question ~ind The "Activ~e-Contemplative'" Problem / 501 qualify the word "merely" in this sentence, but the main point is clear: so long as a religious is aiming at the perfection of faith, hope and love, which is inseparable from contemplation, he is in the "contemplative Aife." What we call. the "active life" for religious, then, is one of two things: first, it~might be an overflow of contemplation. This might take the form of an overflow of love as well as of knowledge. That is, it might take the form,~not just of preaching and teaching, the two examples St. Thomas gives, but of heroic service in nursing, counseling, social action, or the like. In this first sense, then, a religious might be an "active" contemplative through any form of activity which is, .in this individual, so impregnated with grace and love that it~ results, in the given case~ from the "fullness of contemplation." In a second sense, the "works of the actiVe, life" might be a stage of growth toward contemplation--not towa~:d spending long hours in formal prayer, necessarily, but toward habitual contemplation, toward such intimacy with God in faith, hope and love, that° one is always, in a sense, seeing the face of God, and reflecting it (see Q. 182, art. 3). In the words of Gannon and Traub (The Desert and the City, p, 148), ¯ . . In Thomas' understanding as well as in the usage of other ascetical writer~ ~ ofthe time, the active life and the contemplative life designate successive but interacting stages of growth.ifi the interiorqife of a Christian' seeking "spiritual .growth, whether he be a religious or a layman. The active life is the earlier , stage where, seriously 'beginning his pursuit of living spiritually, he struggles ~ against sin and imperfections in himself and both learns and practices the moral virtues and the exterior acts @hich spring from them. Activity thus comprises the'Ltwo stages of spiritual growth which were later named "~he pur- ~. ~gative way of the beginners" and "the illuminative way of th6 advancing:" The :contemplative life, on the other hand, is a higher stage where the Chris, , tian practices c,.hiefly the theological virtues, especially charity, and under its inspiration works of love that witness to it. Among these manifestations of charity one often finds a growing desire to withdraw into solitude in order to achieve undistracted contemplation of God°. We are now better able to understand St. Thomas's comparison of the three kinds of religious orders. (Q. 188, art. 6): .° . The work of the'~active life (that is, the work that religious can do) is of two kinds. One proceeds from the fulness of contemplation, such as teaching and preaching . And this work is more excellent than simple contempla, tion. For even .as it is better to enlighten than merely to shine, so it is better to give to others the fruit of one's contemplation than merely to Contem-plate. The other work of the active life consists entirely in. outward occupa-tion, for instance, almsgiving, receiving guests, aiad the like, Which are less excellent than the works of contemplation, except in cases of necessity, as stated above.'. Accordingly, the highest place in religious orders is held by those which are, directed to teaching and preaching . The second place belongs to those Which are directed 10 contemplation, and the third to those which are occupied ~vith external acii0ns. J Tl~e lowest 'place among religious orders is held by those "which are 502 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 occupied with external actions." Understand here that these actions are not such that they must proceed from the "fullness of contemplation," such as authentic--that is, spiritually effective--preaching and theological teach-ing must be, but actions which achieve their proper end equally well whether the one performing them is a beginner in the spiritual life or a mystic. A candidate of one day in a religious order, if she is a skilled nurse, can nurse as well as another who has twenty years of contemplative prayer behind her. However, we must also understand that these actions can pro-ceed from the fullness of contemplation, in which case more will be taking place than just the action itself. A nurse who is a mystic will communicate the love of God, to her patient as well as she communica'tes all the human concern implied in good nursing care. If a given religibus order is set up in such a way that it effectively fosters in the members a contemplative spirit that will make all the external actions come from the fullness of con-templation, then that order belongs in the first, and highest, category .of religious ordersEnot in the third one. Likewise, an order established for teaching and preaching, if it is no longer such that it effectively fosters contemplation in the members, does not belong in the first category of religious life, but in this third, and lowest one. What we call here an "ac-tive" order, then, is one which is basically in the contemplative life, because it has loving knowledge of God as its end, but which is not really organized to produce this loving knowledge of God very effectively. An individual religious here and there might attain it, but the order as such does not concentrate on the attainment of. contemplative union with God, but just on the active work to be done. In such an order contemplative union with God will not be excluded as an end, of course; in fact, it will be specifically proposed (in words) as an end, and there will even be some prayer, or other spiritual exercises, prescribed or suggested to help the members attain union with God. But it will be obvious from the real structures and policies of the community that what the order as such is bent on is active service, with or without much progress in loving knowledge of God. If the com-munity's particular mixture--harmony, balance, formula--of prayer and service are such that they do, in fact, lead one to ri~e through the active stage of growth (active methods of prayer and emphasis on moral virtues as well as active service) to the loving knowledge of God that belongs to developed faith, hope and love, i.e. to the plane of developed contempla-tive life, then in that measure the order does not. belong in this third category of "active" .religious c6mmunities. We might ask here whether any "active" orders as we have just de-scribed them really exist. Here we have to distinguish between existing in ]act or existing juridically; i.e., existing as active orders because they have degenerated into mere service organizations or because that is what they were founded and accepted by the Church to be. ~It may be that in ]act, the majority of the orders we call "active" in the popular sense today The "'Active-Contemplative" Problem / 503 (meaning not strictly contemplative) have become ~tctive as described above. Juridically, however, many, perhaps most, were not founded to be this, as is clear in the history and constitutions of such communities as the Jesuits, Franciscans, Dominicans, and so forth. If, though, there are orders actually founded to be active in the sense we have described, then they were probably founded on a double principle of practical realism: first, some active task had to be performed, and dedicated hands were needed to perform it. Secondly, it was assumed that the persons who would be called to such a life would not be, as a general rule, apt material for a way of life that aimed at much more than solid moral virtue and a sound, con-sistent piety that kept one living and functioning as a dependable worker in the vineyard of the Lord. God might, of course, raise one to the highest contemplation and mysticism in such a way of life; but the life as such did not presume to aim so high. Let us be frank in admitting the possibility of a certain class distinction in this. Just as St. Ignatius hesitates to give to rudes (the crude, uninstructed, ignorant) more than the "First Week" of the SpiritualExercises (namely, the part that aims at conversion from, sin and systematic practice of the moral virtues: see Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius Loyola, Annotation 18: Louis J. Puhl, editor, Loyola Uni-versity Press, Chicago, 1951, pp. 7-8) so the founders of some religious communities seem to have assumed that their recruits would be mostly uneducated peasant girls, whose interior life would be adequately nourished by a few simple exercises of piety and a strongly structured community life. I do not know if this was the case, any more than I know if any "ac-tive, .order as we have described it was ever approved or founded to be such in the Church. But if such an order exists, it is easy to see why St. Thomas would give it the lowest place in his hierarchy of religious com-munities. It is also easy to see why the Church so ~asily grants permission to transfer from an active order to a contemplative order, if even part of the description of active orders as we have presented it above should be true. The second place on the scale of religious orders belongs to those "which are directed to contemplation." Since all orders are ordered to con-templation indirectly, at .least, this category obviously applies to those orders which occupy themselves primarily and directly in-exercises which by their very nature tend to foster contemplative prayer. We must recall that many of these exercises may belong, of themselves, to the "active life"; the practice of moral virtue, active methods of meditation and prayer, etc. To be a member of a contemplative order does not mean that one has already attained to contemplative prayer, or that one's life is actually char-acterized by a deep and habitual awareness of God in faith, hope and love. But it means that one's life is organized directly to foster this spiritual growth. Obviously this is a "higher" form of religious life than the active life described above. It is not yet the highest form of religious life, in St. 504 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 Thomas's opinion, 'becausethe aim of the community is just the interior development°of its own members., The community is like a tree whose energies are all bent towards growth, but which is not yet mature enough~ to produce fruit. It,is better to aim at full developme]at than to be content with giving lesser fruit on a lower level, A developing fruit tree is a "higher" form of life than" a bush already serving to prevent erosion. So the orders we call "contemplative" are in themselves on a higher,plane than those we have described ~here as "active." The contemplative at least aims directly at~ spiritual growth towards contemplation, while the active qife seems to be designed for beginners who are going to remain on a non-contemplative plane of spiritual activity. St. Thomas assigns the "highest place" among religious orders to those "which are directed to teaching and preaching,"' but with the understand-ing that "preaching and teaching" presuppose contemplation: that what is preached'and taught is precisely the fruit of a contemplative life. He is not referring to those who teach secular subjects, or even to those who teach academic theology unless what they teach proceeds from the fullness of their contemplative prayer. We might add to St. Thomas's teaching' here-and pr~opose that "teaching and preaching" as the fruit of contemplation might be equally the work of a cloistered, contemplative commianity or of a community of Social activists busily reforming social structures in the political ~arena. What is r~quired for ,"teaching °and preaching" is not presence in the classroom or pulpit, but simply the fact ,of communicating to others the truth of God as this proceeds from that loving sureness of vision 'which is a mark of authentic contemplative prayer, It may well be that in" our day no teaching and preaching are more eloquent, or more needed, than the silent, inescapable witness of the,,monasie~ on the moun-tain top. Still another way to teach and preach has been brought very much before.~our consciousness these days. The Synod of Bishops, 41974, spoke of the "intimate connection" between the Church's work and concern for social justice and her task of evangelization. An earlier synod, 1971, went so far as to say that "action on behalf of justice and participation, in the transformation of the world fully appear to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the Gospel." (Both texts available from U.S. Catholic Conference,Publications Office, passages cited fr6m p. 1'8 and p. 34, respectively.) By0 this principle any"outward occupation, even the very active one of political struggle for social justice, is. a form of Christian teaching and preaching--and 'in the sense that St. Thomas. uses the terms --provided that it truly proceeds from the fullness of contemplation and is done in such a way that what clearly appears to the world is the truth 'of Christ's own mind and heart~ embodied in unambiguous action. St. Thomas's argument for this hierarchy of religious orders is based on' two principles. The first concerns the value of the end that is aimed at; the second concerns the effectiveness of the means employed, to achieve The !'Active-Contemplative" Problem / 505 the end. Orders which share the r+sults of their contemplation with others are more excellent than those whic~h just, contemplate, because these orders aim at the end of all religious life, the perfection of charity, in a way that includes more of the end, more of[the good that "charity" embraces. They organize their lives in a way design,'ed both to bring them to a more loving knowledge of God,in contemplati,~n, and to be of service in love to the neighbor (Q. 188, art. 6). Remember that, as we have explained this, any .I religious order, from the most clo~.stered contemplatives to the most active workers in the Church, can belon~g to this third and highest category of rehg~ous life provided that the commumty truly has a. formula for living that combines prayer and service in such a way that the community "speaks" to the Church out of tl~e fullness of contemplative insight into God. The superiority of such an order is based on the fact that the end to which it is directly ordered includes, both the good of contemplation and the good ,of active service to the! neighbor. It is obviously this kind of community St. Thomas has in mi~d when he argues that a religious order i . can be founded for works of the acuve life because their activity "results from the contemplation of divine ihings" (Q. 188, art. 2) and that~ a per-son who is in the contemplative life can .be called away from exercises of contemplation to works of the active life without losing anything bec~ause his engagement in active works is idone "by way not of subtraction but of addition" (Q. 182, art. 1 ). In suctl a case one does not forsake contempla- . tion entirely, but only partly or te~mporardy in order to add works of the active life (ibid. and art. 2). Thus such a community is "better" because "its end is a greater good." I Hence a religious order is preferable to another if it be directed to an end that is abso.lutely more excellent eit,her because it is directed to a greater goo~!,~ or. to more goods (A. 188, art. 6). This is the first principle by ~vhich St. Thomas rates religi6us orders, the principle that looks to the goo~d or end they are directly structu.red to attain. The second principle looks ito the suitability of the means emplpyed to achieve the end: !. If, however, the end be the same, 'ithe excellence of one religious order over another depends secondarily, not o~ the amount of exercise, but on the pro-portion of the exercise to the end in view. Wherefore, in the Conferences of The Fathers (Coll. ji, 2), Blessed Anthony is quoted~.as preferring discretion, wherebY, a man moderates all his at c¯ tions, to fastings, watchings, and all such observances ( ibid). I In evaluating a religious community we should look to its structures. The question is not really how austere the community is, or how strict its life appears to be. Nor is the question how human the community is, or how free its members, seem to be. The real question is: how well are its structures adapted to helping the members attain the goal of religious lile? 506 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 A tight ~community is no better than a loose one--and no worse. Whatever leads persons to the perfection of charity--towards God and neighborm is the ideal of religious community policy. St. Thomas warns that a religious order is not better because it has more penitential practices than another, more prayer than another. But in our day we may be failing into the same error he warns against under a different form. In our reaction against some of the rigidities and distorted practices of the past, we have perhaps apotheosized another set of values, made idols out of some other very particular and limited ideals. We have refocused our attention on-freedom and personalism, discernment and dialogue, community life and social involvement. And because these values are good,~we are under the illusion that in pursuing them we are renewing religious life. The truth of the matter is that religious life is not renewed by .any community exercise as such, whether it be dialoguing or taking the dis-cipline together. Religious life is renewed by discovering, in prayer and surrender to the Holy Spirit, an integral and harmonious set of structures that correspond to the complete goal of the community. If growth in con-templation, for example, understood as loving knowledge of God, is an integral part of the community's aim in life, then the community must in-corporate into its life-style specific and effective structures that really promote this growth. To affirm the ideal in words in the Constitutions is not enough. Communities should be evaluated, not by the orthodoxy of their statements, but by the effectiveness of their structures. What a com-munity really is should be judged, not by the goals it proposes to itself, but by the means it is willing to commit itself to in order to achieve these goals: and commit itself to realistically by building them into its life-style. We might ask what point there is in comparing religious orders. After all, the "best" order for any individual is the one which is most suited to his own temperament, stage of growth, and particular call from God. What point is there in comparing'religious orders in the abstract? I think that the precise point of all this is that the three categories we find in St. Thomas are not meant to be--or at least cannot be taken today to refer to---three different patterns for authentic life. We are not really offered three different choices of what a religious order can aim at. I believe that in St. Thomas's sense every religious order must be founded for "~teaching and preaching" if it is to be Christian. For the teaching and preaching that we intend here is nothing more specific or less spiritually profound than Christian witness. A religious vocation is a gift from God. But it ig a gift like those St. Paul speaks of in 1 .Corinthians, chapters 11- 14: manifestations of the Spirit given for the common good. A purely active religious order that really did not provide within the structures and policies of its communal living, means effectively to promote spiritual growth--growth towards deeper and deeper contemplation (under- The "Active,Contemplative" Problem / 507 stood not as longer hours of forma!, contemplative prayer, but as an ever more constant loving awareness of God and of all other things in the authenticity of their being as relation to God) would hardly be a legitimate form of life in the Church. At the most it would be legitimate as a com-munity that understood and accepted itself, with frank humility, as a com-munity for persons incapable of ~rogressing beyond the level of moral virtue in the spiritual life. But can.[we believe that any such category ac-tually exists? And would such a community really be viable? Would its apostolate really be valid? Yet I think we have around us in the present day examples of communities which have become in fact, if not in desire, purely "active" communities. The level of prayer is very low. Deep under-standing of the life of grace is praciically non-existent. This is not in every individual, of course, but it is embodied in the communal expression of the community as a whole. In these, communities does an authentic "apos-tolate" really exist? We may run sc,hools or hospitals, may engage in social service or social action with enthusiasm, and labor to the point of exhaus-tion. But by our fruits we must be judged. Are our schools producing peo-ple who have been touched by an ,encounter with Jesus Christ as a person --real in himself and active in his ,Body on earth today? Are our hospitals symbols and witnesses to the whol~ world of Christ's healing concern for the poor, the suffering, the afflict~ed? Is our reform of social structures permeated with the spirit of the beatitudes. Where the labor and service of an "active" order does not reail3} "teach and preach" the truth of Christ and the gospel, is that labor reall~ an apostolate? And can one's activity express the truth of the gospel if it! does not rise from a loving con.templa-tion of that truth within one's own!, heart,° a contemplation that makes one alike in one's being to, what one sees? Let us suppose, on the other h~nd, a more contemplative order, either a cloistered community or a veryI explicitly prayerful, active commumty. And let .us. suppose that it is so turned in-on itself, so defensive against all that is going on in the Church, sd protective of its own traditional struc-tures in their last, rigid detail, thatlthe community as a whole is not a wit-ness to anyone in the Church. Or w.orse: let us say the community ',speaks" to a diehard minority of crustacean Catholics who are clamped like barnacles onto anything in the ChUrch that~has the appearance of a rock. Suppose the community really exists to encourage a faction in the Church to believe, in opposition to the main body of the hierarchy, that Vatican II is only a passing wave:~that will soon get over us, leaving things exactly as they were before? It would be hard to accredit such a community as truly contemplative, of course, no matter how much time they spent in silence and stances of prayer. But one clear reason why the community would be invalid even as a contemplative community is that the com-munity would have no truly apostohc d~mens~on. They would not .be preaching and teaching--not in ~the name of the Church and for the 508 / Review lor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 Church--but in the name of a factional spirit that is resisting the life of the People of God. Sucti communities are teaching a spiritual archeology and calling it biology:' holding up fossils to the world as the living Body of Christ. Let us suppose another.contemplative order, one still in its beginning stages. Let us say it is set up to be ~a community of solitaries. In its first efforts to really achieve solitude and a true spirit of prayer this community may have to defend itself to some extent even from contacts with the main body .of the Church. "It may ~have to. withdraw far into' the wilderness, far from the paths of men, and jealously guard its privacy for a while. To this extent it'can appear, momentarily at least, as a "counterwitness" to the ~solidarity of the whole Church's sharing in the charismatic .gifts of ~every member and group. But soon, if the community's charism is authentic, the flow of life back into the Church in the form of "teaching and preach-in~" .must begin anew. The monastery will begin to shine as a 4ight in the world--and most visibly to. the Church--through its manner of life and prayer. More than lik.ely pilgrims and pray~ers will begin to come, and they will be welcomed in the spirit of open faith traditional to monastic communities: a spirit of hospitality which receives each guest as possibly sent from God to receive or to give a blessing only God foresees in its details. On a level that is deeper yet than hospitality, and theologically more fundamental, the community must always understand itself, very con-sciously, as called and gifted for the benefit of the whole Church: The community must be aware of, and concerned about, what its life is "saying" to the Church, and what the Church's life is saying to it: how its self-understanding matches and fits into the ~ Church's contemporary under-standing of herself. The enclosed life must not" be a seIJ-enclosed life. There is no self-enclosed life in the living Church, the organically-inter-dependent mystical Body .of Christ. The reactionary community, be it monastic or non-monastic, is a non-apostolic community. Whether it spends twenty-four hours a day behind monastic wails or eighteen hours a day exhausting itself in the inner city, the community that has ceased to inter, act vitallywith tile Church is a non-apostolic community. How can a group that has sealed itself off from the Church's life claim in spite of this to be "sent" by the Church or to the Church? It is not possible, therefore, for a contemplative (or any other kind of) community to be authentically Christian. if it opts 'to live solely in its own little ~world of private tradi-tions, and practices, oblivious to all that is taking place in the life of the worldand the Church around it. To be truly contemplative, 'then, is to be apostolic by that very fact. And to be authentically ~apostolic one must be contemplative. And to be either, or both, in .the Church one must be in vital, responsive contact with. the. rest of the Body of Christ on earth. This contact crosses denominational The "~4ctive-Contemplative~' Problem. / 509 . lines: an authentically prayerful com, munlty of Protestant Christians (Taiz6, for example) speaks very eloquent!y to Catholics, and vice-versa. But a community that has set itself up as[ a standard for the Church, in opposi, tion to the movement of the Holy Spirit in the Church, speaks to no one. If the community is factional in a ]reactionary sense, clinging, to the past while the (~hurch moves into the future with God, its teaching becomes a "spiritual necrophilia," a fascinatioo with what is dead and controllable, based on fear of responsible encouhter with the Living God. °If the com-munity is factional in a progressive '~ sense, caught up in the .current of this world:rather than moved by the v~inds of the Spirit, then its teaching is idolatry: 'it receives man-made images from the pagans, or shapes them: from its contemplation of the worla, and presents them to the People of God as a ~graven image, a reflectioh of man's own contemporary face, to Worship as the new face of God. What, then, should We say in conclusion about the traditional threefold division of religious orders into "active," "contemplative" and "mixed"? First we should recognize that the word "mixed" may not legitimately claim a place in our tradition aldngside the categories of "active" and "contemplative." To describe the th'ird category as !'apostolic" rather than mixed (as G;innon arid Traub do) is misleading,~ because it implies that' the other, two categories, are non-i~postolic. This could be justified,° per-haps, if we_use "apostolic" t,o :refer~ in a very strict sense to precisely the kind of life the twelve Apostles' le, d,.as Father Orsy does (Open to the Spirit, pp. 273ff.). But', this is not thee meaning the word "apostolic" evokes when we ,:use it. In current usage~ "apostolic" means bringing grace to others as Christ's instrument, contributing by~(~ne's life' to the redemptive work, of the Church. Father Orsy"p0ints out this distinction very succifctly when .'he~ Says of rehg~ous, All are ,apostles but not all apostles follow the~ apostles', way of iife" (ibid.):ii, St. Thomas seems to recognizeIonly two categories of life for human beings, the contemplative and the active. He seems to assume that all re-ligious are in the contemplative li~fe by °virtue of the fact that they are striving for the "perfection of charit:y," which cannot be conceived of apart from that loving knowledge ~of God which is c'ontem~lation. Likewise all religious must be apostolic, 'became love of neighbor is included in the perfection of charity., . In the organization; the~structufing of religious life, however, one com-munity differs from another. Some ~ommunities organize their lives almost entirely toward actiVe works of sergice: Contemplation is still a recognized goal (asit is of every fully Christian life), but the community as such does not directly aim at it in any signifidant way through communal policies or structures. So far as the communl!y as a whole is concerned, its visible stance, embodied in structures, points it: only toward active service, and toward the active stage of spiritual "growth. Spiritually the community is 510 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 geared to the level of moral virtue. Each member is expected to labor generously in the vineyard of the Lord, and to live peacefully and coopera-tively in community. The vows as such are not stressed except as a basic and not particularly elevated platform on which to live and work. Mem-bers are called upon to live celibately and purely, to make simplicity and sharing the characteristics of their relationship to material things, and to subordinate personal preferences to the decisions and goals of the com-munity where the common good requires this. This life of "reasonable service" is nourished by workshops, discus-sions, and reading; by some sustaining prayer, and methods of personal and communal evaluation and accountability. Good liturgies and theological input are welcomed where available. Spiritual direction is encouraged for those who feel the need of it and can find a director. Everyone is expected to find time to make an annual retreat of five to eight days, and allowed to make it usually, on whatever level of depth the individual desires. If a person lives a morally virtuous life within this framework, causes no trouble in community, and does his or her work well, the community will ask nothing more: This describes the kind of religious community we have called "single-mindedly active," and it may correspond to the reality St. Thomas defines in his comparison of religious orders as a community "occupied with external actions." There is a direct concern for the spiritual life in these communities, but the level of spiritual life aimed at is that which will sustain the members in their active work for the Church and in their inter-action with one another in community life. For anything beyond this the individual must seek means and support on his own. Other communities are singlemindedly contemplative. They embrace structures and organize their lives in such a way that the way of life itself is a constant impetus toward growth in specifically Christian faith, hope and love. In these communities the life is so designed that anyone who is simply leading a life, of good moral virtue and pei'forming well in com-munity and in his work will have it brought home to him with increasing conviction that he is nothing but a "useless servant" (Lk 17:10). The whole manner of ~living is specifically designed not to. make sense except as an expression of the mystery of Christian. faith. And therefore a person must be constantly aware of this mystery to find the life even bearable. The key here is not austerity as such, but simply the absence of any rea-son within this world for living as one does. This "faith or foolishness" quality, stands out with dramatic clarity in the cloistered contemplative life, where not even work can be used as a justification for the way one lives. The active religious might be able to tell himself in moments of waver-ing faith that even if there is no God it is worth the sacrifice of family and possessions just to devote oneself to one's fellow man in his poverty, his sickness, his ignorance. It is certain that many active religious and priests The "~4ctive-Contemplative" Problem / 511 pour themselves out in work in order not to have to face the deeper ques-tions of their relationship to God in fi~ith. It is more difficult for the cloist6red contemplative to do this. He ~ight try, but everything in the life-style he is submerged in will cry out to him what he is doing. The cloistered orders give a place to prayer that is obviously not intended just to support a life of moral virtue or keep people generous in their work. The poverty, pursued by these communities is, as a rule, a level of deliberately-sougllt deprivation not imposed by circum-stances or embraced just out of a s~nse of solidarity with the poor, a style ~of life designed to be congruous. Religious obedience is recognized, not just as a means to harmonious, cooperative living, but as a form of kenosis and a way of surrendering to the Holy Spirit in the Mystical Body of Christ. And the structures of com-munity life embody this understanding of religious obedience and of the government that corresponds to it. ~Within such a context celibacy is both understood and expressed as a poSitive way of relating to God through Christ in a relationship of growing lintimacy, mutual comprehension--and gift, ' Communities designed to express and to lead to' the fullness of Chris-tian knowledge and love of God and of all other things in the light of God are obviously, in St. Thomas' opinion, preferable in themselves to communities that do not aim at this. If it came to a choice between one or. the other--an either-or alternatave Thomas would say the second kind of community is the better choice in itself. It is better, in the abstract, to be a singieminded contemplativ~ than to be singiemindedly active. It might be, however, that for a givenl individual, or in a given set of circum-stances~ it would be a better thing in the concrete case tO choose the more active form of life. But are we really faced, in theory at least, with an either/or alterna-tive. Granted that the choice betw,een an enclosed, a cloistered life and a non-enclosed life is an either/or alternative. Granted again that the choice between a life of solitude and continuous contemplation in the sense of an undistracted intellectual preoccupation with God is an either/or alternative to a life of active, absorbing labor.' Still, "actively' and "contemplative" do not have to be either/or alternatives. Contemplation need not be restricted in its meaning to the absorption of the intellect in God during periods of formal prayer, Contemplation can be, and ought to be, a total and con-tinuous attitude of mind and heart; an ~rientation toward God and an awareness of relationship with God in all that one does and encounters (see Gannon and Traub's seventh ]chapter, "Finding God in AllThings," op. cit., p. 152ff.). This awarenes~l of God in all things is fostered both by periods of formal prayer (experience teaches that. these are normally indispensable) and by a total life~-style that expresses emphatically and 512 / Review for Religious, l/olume 35, 1976/4 unambiguously the faith, hope and love of which one wishes to remain aware. For St. Ignatius of Loyola the key to continuous contemplation is an ever-growing abnegation of self and a continuous stance of renunciation towards this world embodied in concrete choice (see Gannon and Traub, op. cit., chapters seven and eight: "Finding God in All Things" and "The Logic of Christian Discernment," esp. pp. 158- 172). For St. Thomas Aquinas the choice presented by the active and con-templative life-options is not an either/or choice but a triple one: either the active life, or the contemplative life, or both. In the third option one chooses to live in a way that leads to contemplation and in additio.n to this to share with one's neighbor i.n service the results of one's contemplative life. It may be--this We neither defend or dispute--that St. Thomas made too much of a distinction between contemplation and action, conceiving of contemplation too narrowly in terms' of an explicitly intellectual absorp-tion in formal prayer. It may also be, as I believe the case, that he did not understand, or at least develop, how many kinds of activity could be included under the term "teaching and preaching" that for him designates the kind,.of work in which th~ fruits of contemplation are shared. But if we follow the principles of St. Thomas's doctrine, I believe we arrive at an ideal of, religious life towardwhich every community can aim. This is re-ligious life characterized by a double end: that of growing explicitly in loving knowledge of God in faith, hope, and love while explicitly ordering one,s life to the spiritual benefit of the neighbor. Such a life must not only be explicit about its end. It must also incorporate effective means to produce the contemplative spirit and apostolic effectiveness sought. In the measure that a given form of religious living really does produce contemplative peo-ple and really does "speak" to the Church in a solid and effective way, that life corresponds to St. Thomas's ideal. This ideal of St. Thomas~was expressed in,Vatican Council II as the ideal, not of one particular category of religious order, but of religious life itself: ", ¯ . . As they seek God before all things and only Him, the members of each community should combine, contemplation with apostolic love. By the former they adhere to God in mind and heart; by the latter they strive to associate themselves with the work of redemption and to spread the Kingdom of God. (Decree on the Renewal o] Religious Li]e, part 5, Abbott p. 47~0. See also Orsy, op. cit., chapter seven, "Filled with Grace and Power: Contemplation," esp. pp. 209, 254). The "mixed" life, in other words, is not really an option in religious life:if we use the term in the sense developed here, it has tobe an aim. To'~be practical we should suggest in conclusion that every religious take a good, hard look at.the concrete reality of his or her community's life. What concrete structures, policies, activities, or provisions: of com- The "Active-Contemplative" Problem / 513 munity life are specifically designed ~to foster the contemplative spirit? How effective are they? What real priod~ty are they given in the actual life of the community? How much do they influence community decisions? In what visible ways do they determiqe the community life-~style. Secondly, what is the life of the community saying to the Church? What are the real effects of the c~mmunity's work? What are the fruits of its apostolate? Is the communityiin reality working for the Kingdom of God, or just working and offering ~hat work in some general way for the Kingdom .of God? Is the .community corporately ~fiware of the difference between a life of moral virtue and a life of theolbgical virtue? Is there an insistence, in visible, concrete ways, that each member keep growing to the level of perfect faith, hope, and love? Or d~es the community in its actual policies insist only on a good day's work and a cooperative spirit in community? To be a "good religious," an acceptable member of the community, how much contemplative spirit is required? Are prudence,~justice, temperan.ce, and fortitude enough? o. ~ It is certainly legitimate for an individual to live the "active" life during certain periods of his spiritual growth. But this is only legitimate if th~ active life is seen as a phase of growth ordered toward achieving contem-plation. Or the active life can be added to the contemplative as a way of sharing its fruits with others. But ithe active life as such cannot be the final goal or total plan of any serious;Christian's life. What is legitimate for individual~ is legitimate for communities. That is, a community can structure its corp9rate; its communal life to be "active" for some members or for a certain~ time. But this is legitimate only if the community situates its active life-s~tyle within the broader context of an identifiably contemplative life-style~. The community must .be able to identify the explicit elements in its overall style of living--its structures and policies--that present the contemplative life to its members and foster its growth. The community must be able to show that it is concretely geared --and not just abstractly committed~to bring its members to the "per-fection of charity," the fullness of the loving knowledge of God. If a community is not willing or able to do this, it should take the responsibility of redefining itself. It should present itself to its members and to the ~world as a singlemin~ledly "active" community, a "service orgamzatlon in the Church. This ,;vould be,' in St. Thomas's explanation, a third class religious order. A second-class religious order ~would be one that is committed and geared toward achieving contemplation, but which frankly acknowledges that it is not strong enough in itsl contemplative life to take on an ex-plicitly apostolic dimension. By "apostolic dimension" I do not mean, of course, just active work. A comm.hnity of solitaries strictly cloistered in the desert can have a fully-developed apostolic dimension. By "apostolic 514 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 dimension" I mean an explicit concern about what one's life is "saying" to the Church. (This is, I believe, a legitimate interpretation of what St. Thomas means by "teaching and preaching.") Any community can put this concern aside temporarily. A novitiate house, for example, or a new religious older in its first beginnings; might have to forget for a while about what it is saying to the Church in order to concentrate exclusively on what God is saying to it. But a community which did not see itself as ever having any concern~except the growth and sanctification of its own members would have to acknowledge itself as a second-class religious order--a sort of spiritual hospital for people who are never expected to become strong enough to share the burden of the Church's mission. I seriously question whether either of' these first two choices~ are legitimate options in religious life. If religious life (like every,.valid Christian life) has the per[ection of charity as its goal, it seems a contradiction in terms that one would accept to be a second- or third-class religious. Realistically, I think ,the value of St. Thomas's distinctions lies in the help they give us in recognizing situations that ought to be temporary in the life of religious communities; situations we might be tempted to accept as permanent. We have mentioned a legitimately' exclusive preoccupation with one's own spiritual growth, provided it is temporary. We see in the life of the active orders around us a-similar preoccupation at this moment in history, but which might not be recognized for what it is. After Vatican II, when religious renewal began in a massive way, one religious com-munity after another awoke to the distortions that had crept into our understanding of religious life. We realized that in our efforts to become spiritual we had lost s~ight of ,what it was to be human. Words like "ful-fillment" and "interpersonal relationships" began to punctuate our con-versations. We threw ourselves into the rediscovery of our emotional and affective lives. We made acceptance of ourselves h religious goal, and embraced as a duty the grateful enjoyment of this world as God's gift. Words like "renunciation" and "abnegation" became "trigger" words, sym-bols of a repressive' and distorted spirituality that blanketed human values and suffocated human personality under an all-covering mystique of self-sacrifice. Religious began to pursue courses and workshopg for their own intellectual and psychological development. Individuals began to take responsibility for their own decisions and to speak up like adults in com-munity discussions. We went in for group decision-making and discern-ment. The emphasis was placed on personal responsibility. Bells were abolished, the time and place for prayer left up to each individual. Supe-riors were abolished, too, in many cases and group accountability substi-tuted for personal, spiritual ,government. People began to furnish their rooms in ways that expressed acceptance of the world rather than austerity. Convents went in for bright curtains, pink bed spreads and teddy bears. A rich variety of food and drink became available twenty-four hours' a day. The "Acttve-Contemplative" Problem / 515 Smoking and drinking ceased to be tabu to nuns. The ancient practice of the "peculium" so constantly condemned in religious tradition, came back in the form of personal budgets. Nuns and priests started dressing to ex-press their individual personalities as well as their maleness or their womanhood. Sisters experienced what it was to "feel like a woman again," for better or for worse. Priests and seminarians fell in love with sisters,~ and sisters fell in love with them. Some left religious life and got married. Those who remained began to speculate on the "complementarity of tlie sexes," and to ask how one's human sexuality could be integrated into a celibate life without compromise to chastity. Experiments were acted out, mistakes were made. Growth resulted, tragedy resulted; there was good and evil! In all of this there has been in religious community life an absorbing corporate preoccupation with "self." Religious communities have turned their gaze inwards, trying to straighten out their own house. For the time beirig many communities have become more concerned with what religious life is saying to them than they are with what their religious life is saying to the Church. In many specific instances, communities have defied alike the prejudices of the laity and the precepts of Rome. In their intense ef-fort to listen authentically to what God is saying to them, it would seem that some religious have become less attentive to the voice of the wider Church, whether this comes from the ranks of the People of God or from the official representatives of that People. A temporary preoccupation with self is legitimate and good, even on the community level. But no real discernment.or renewal of religious life can take place in the long run in isolation from the People of God. Re-ligious cannot ignore what their life is saying to the rest of the Church. As long as a community is doing this, or has to do it, it is engaged more in spiritual therapy for its own members than in making its contribution to God's people. It may well be that for a certain time a religious community may have to direct all its efforts toward "becoming human." Perhaps the human values of responsibility, affectivity, self-acceptance, and interper-sonal relationship have been lost through a distorted way of living in the past. These values may have to be recovered. But if a religious community accepts as its permanent goal in life, and as its normal guideline for community policy, the ideal of "becoming human," that community must inquire into its place in the overall community Of the People of God. So long as a community is mainly preoccupied with the healing of its own self-inflicted wounds it falls, I believe, into St. Thomas's second cate-gory of religious life. Whether the community is exclusively preoccupied with becoming divine through contemplation, or with becoming human through sensitivity sessions and the use of creatures that reinforce people's sense of personal ~worth, it is not yet strong and mature enough to share with others the fruits of a healthy and developed spiritual life. We should 516 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 recognize this and make sure that we do not accept a temporary, therapeu-tic situation as normal policy for religious life. We can set up spiritual hos-pitals for oursel~,es on a temporary basis. But .if the raison d'etre of our lives is just to constitute a healing milieu of humanness, our expectations for the future should be that no healthy human'beings will apply. Religious life is intended to lead people through active and contempla-tive stages of growth to that developed maturity of life, both human and divine, which allows each person to become a word of grace made flesh; a word of light, of life, and of love spoken tothe People of God. Religious life structured to this goal is the first, the highest, and I believe: the only authentic form of religious life. St. Thomas's distinctions invite us to look at three levels of value in religious life and tO ask" ourselves if our own communities are concretely and effectively geared to achieve them all. To a Young Sister on Her Final Profession Day You .,ask me for a poem, Sister, in honor of this day on which you place for all eternity, your life. your total self~ within the Heart of Him who called you, drew you, in a thousand subtle ways to 'love Him for Himself alone. But how can words of human speech express what is forever inexpressible, what can be only numbly felt :by hearts too grossly fles!! Even the Psalmist's flame-tipped words that ride ~he winds and pierce the clouds fall, helpless, to the ground. The only poem I can give you, Sister, is a prayer, whispered in the depths of nay own heart, to Him who dwells there too, as in Your own. And even that prayer says less in words than in desire. Love Him---trust Him--always, Sister, until that day when there will be no need of poems or words but only of that Word who is all love that ever was or is ° or can be. He is your poem, Sister! Sister Mar~c'Luke, c~S.]. 3556 Rocky River Drive Cleveland, OH 44111 The Incomplete Conversion J. 'Rankin, King~ . Mrs. Kin"g graduated from St. Louis University in 1973. She has pfiblished poetry in The Haiku Anthology, Poet atid~,C~itic arid elsewhere. She 'is presently engaged in research fin the .field of comparative re!igious,experience. Her address:. Nativity Hermi-tage;. Taos, NM 87571. We are b~ now, as participant observers,, nearly used to~ the revived in-terest in spirituality which has characterized the seventies, jStudies .and ex-periments inthe practices of Eastern Orthodox and Asian traditions oc-cupy~. a small but well educated and serious° number of cgntemplative re-ligious: Monumental tasks of research and translation by monastic scholars pr_o_mise considerable assurance that the monastic renewal will be both sound, and profound. A. reawakened interest at. the popular level in the role of .the, Holy Spirit in Christian life heightens mass awareness of God's saving ,pr.e~sence. ,Chri_stocent~ic~,incarnationalism, more intellectual than the popular movement, less comprehensive than the monastic effort, pro.- vides a vehicle for renewed devotion to th.~:, humanity of Christ among many priests and religious. These tendencies exist beside, and tend to color th_e spiritualities o.f, the religio_us orders which are more and more coming to be seen as mutations of and variants upon the one-basic spiritually of ~the Church Universal, simple ,and whole, the spirituality of the ages. Of all these, this essay .will °attempt to deal 0nly with the contemporary popular tendency. It, will stress its weaknesses rather than its strengths, its situation of risk rather than its posture of promise, because it is, among the trends developing at pres_ent, at once the most massive and the most fragile. It. is my hope that this approach will contribute more at the pres-ent moment to the ongoing recovery of spiritual discipline among us than the positive one which has been the more common over the past few years. 517 518 / Review ]or Religious, F'olume 35, 1976/4 While the popular spiritualities of the prayer group and the pentecostal meeting discover their sources in traditions outside the Church, they may also be accurately described as reactions to the conventional spirituality that preceded them. That earlier spirituality stressed rule and form, this proposes the Spirit and the spontaneous. That spirituality was rooted in the prescriptions of the spiritual manuals, this adventures without them. If that spirituality had nearly forgotten the Illuminative Way, this is ignorant of the Purgative. That spirituality put affectivity to its bow and aimed it upward, often so austerely as to be accused of being cold. This is charac-terized by a diffuse and volatile emotion. Conventional spirituality was a spirituality of reserve, interiority. Popular spirituality celebrates the mani-fest, effuses. Their differences are sufficiently radical to render them remote and, in a very profound way, both antipathetic and antithetical to one another. ~ And yet both have this in common, that the first had forgotten and the second has yet to learn the meaning of metanoia~f metanoia not as moment but as process. It is ironic that popular spirituality, in setting out to recapture the Spirit and the Life, should bear within itself, also, that precise element the want of which drained the previous spirituality of ex-actly those things. For it was certainly °its failure to grasp and implement the mechanics of the Purgative Way--that radical reaction to the discovery of one's own sinfulness--which stripped the previous spirituality of its vitality and left it, intact in all its structures but resoundingly,empty, a prey to that kind of renewing which obliterates altogether. It is characteristic of reactionff to~ over-react and, sometimes, to miss the point, Iri this case the.point was not that there was something wrong with the spirituality of the manuals: it was, hfter all, the Catholic spiritual-ity, the spirituality of the ages; but that there was something dreadfully wrong with those .who professed it. Specifically, they were not half sorry enough for their sins. On the contrary, they often thought themselves very good folk°'indeed. It is not perhaps surprising that their ~lateral~descendants should harbor a similar misapprehension, and that it. should produce, spon~ taneity to 'the contrary, a similar chill of ';righteousness"; a characteristic which proclaims as clearly as any antinomianism; the Spirit's absence. Genuine metanoia is a process. It begins, to be sure, with a haoment: "I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth thee: Wherefore I abhor.myself, and repent in dust and ashes,''1 I abhor myself~ an abhorrence that generate~ an ongoing and ever deepening reaction. We have called that reaction the Way of Beginners, the Purgative Way. We have identified with precision its stages; its characteristic rhythms of prayer, its temptations, its joys and sorrows, its goals and the interior technology which must be employed if they are to be attained. And we know its term: aJb. xlii, 5:6~ The Incomplete Conversion / 519 a sincere and complete conversion; .and'its consequence: a man sufficiently iiast to bear experimental cbntact with the Spirit of God in illumined faith-- a man who has the justice, the prudence, the temperance and the fortitude to worShip in Spirit and Truth under the influence of infused prayer. ¯ At the present time 'the popular movement recognizes the moment but is unaware'0f the process. Its characteristic exercises--shared and peti-ti0riaty prayer and Scripture reading--are not primary metanoiac agents. It is difficult to see how the movement is to proceed, if it does not assim, ilate a technology" of interior change. Popular spirituality's mistaken guess that the first gift of the Spirit is joy prevents it from cultivating that sorrow, with its concommitant hatred of sin and the filial fear of the Lord which dreads' to lose him, which are, in fact, the Spirit's choicest gifts to the youngest of his Chosen. ~'Its apprehension of a fullness of some kind, when overly encouraged, acts as a bar to its experiencing its own poverty. A dollar may indeed look like a great deal to a man who has known only'plugged nickels all his life but. it remains, nevertheless, a dollar, with a dollar's purchasing power. There seems tO be some danger of the popular renewal's forgetting that the ish seddqdh~ the just man, is ?a member of the an~wim, God's afflicted ones: the poor, the weak, the humble, the meek, the oppressed . the needy, the broken hearted, the crUshed in spirit.''-~ In its search for signs of the Spirit's presence, it is prone to overlook the "Sign of'Jonah" proposed to a previous unbelieving generationhthe death, burial and resurrection of the Lord and i.s, in consequence, diverted from living any coherent program of its own daily dying which is, after all, the Christian's only entrde to the higher life. "There is an apophthegm of Pambos," writes Andre Louf,'a "that is all the more pointed for its brevity: 'Acquire a heart and you can be saved.' 'Acquire a heart': this implies that we do not yet have that spiritual sensi-tivity, that alertness of heart, that can discern and understand the things of the Spirit." The popular, spirituality is of~theopinion that it can. There is perhaps no greater bar to the acquisition oL a heart than the persuasion that one has one. "Better just to smeil a~ flower in the garden or something like that," wrote Thomas M~rton,4 "than to have an unauthentic experience of a much higher value." * A concept of change nearly defines traditional spirituality. Life in Christ is metamorphosis. Its dynamism is the life of God in Trinity which enters the soul 'at the time of its baptism or through the"second and "labo-rious" baptism of penance. Conversion, then, i.s not an arrival :but a de- 2David Holly, The Quest ]or Biblical Living; Cistercian Studies,~ Vol. X, Nos. 3 and 4, p. 235. aAndre Louf, Spiritual Experience, Cistercian Studies, Vol. X, no. 2, p. 128. 4Patrick. Hart, ed., Thomas Merton, Monk (New York: Sheed & Ward; 1974), p. 190. Review. ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 parture.: To delay upon the platform, cheering the trains as they come in, is nearly always fatal. The Kingdom of Heaven withers when .it finds~a pos.t-conversion ?'level". and is staticized there. Transformation is'the primary work of the Holy Spirit. ,It is' to this--a definitive delivery~ffrom sin--that" his chief inspirations tend, for he is indeed the very SpiriL.of Christ, he who came to ~.set free the captive, to deliver those Iying in prison, To un. derestimate the extent of,the captivity, the depth of the dungeon, is to miss entirely the pointoof the Mission of the Spirit. . We often hear~it said today that because God loves us he accepts us. That is, of course, the one thing he will never do-,-because he loves us. "When he said 'Be perfect,' he meant it. He meant that we must go in for the full treatment. It is hard; but the sort of compromise we are all hanker-ing after is harder--in fact, it is impossible. It may be hard4or an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to, fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you.cannot go on. in-definitely being just an ordinary, decent,;egg. Wg must be hatched or go bad.''~ , Perhaps we could say that contemporary popular spirituality is in a situation of vulnerability at the moment because it does not dream that~it is an egg. It would seem to be a fatal diversion to cultivate joy if "real spiritual joy is one of the rarest fruits of the., spirit, to be attained only near the summit of the way, after all evil ,habits and thoughts are overcome, all passions conquered, and reconciliation with God is reached?'~ If "the true signs of sincere penitence .are the taming of the beast of anger and absti-nence from all condemnation.of others''~ and if only sincere pen.itence can open the way to any kind of consistent experience of God, then it would seem to be the better .part of enlightenment to .work at those hydra-headed passions. That, at any rate, seems to be what the Spirit.has always bee.n saying to t.he Churches. ; It wbuld not,.perhaps, be necessary to notice the belief clusters and attitudes in popular spirituality which .hinder its. developing genuine in-teriority if it had not attained a very rapid and, indeed, massive growth and were not now showing a decided disposition to impose .itself wherever possible on the rest of theoChurch. Now it is, of course, highly d~e~irable that we should all be more committed Christians, but it may be4hat a good many of us do not desire to be imposed upon, nevertheless. ~Especially by those whose light does not exceed our own. The prospect of spending the rest, of one's spiritual life occupied in "praise"~ and intercessory prayer, punctuated by predictable prophecies will not appeal to everyone . While enthusiastic neo conversi may be able to speak winningly and cohvincingly of their ~newly discovered life in Christ, it is the Church's ex- ;'C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: Macmillan, 1974), p. 169. ~-~ "Iulia de Beausobre, ed., Russian Letters b] Direction, 1834-1860, beiiig the l~tter~ of Staritz Macarius of Optino.(St. Vladimirs Seminary Press, 1975), p. 106. rlbid., p. 169. The Incomplete ~onversion / 521 perience that fruitful apostolates are the result of a mature Christian life. And it is, besides, the spiritual doctrine of Catholicism that too great an eagerness to teach others is, in beginners, a sign of sp!r!tual pride.i, Although it is typical of evangelical Christianity to send its converts immediately into the field, it has not been the apostolic Church's custom. Following the example of her Lord, who spent thirty years in obscurity be-fore undertaking his public mission, she has preferred that her children nurture the life of grace in humble penance, in mortification and in prayer before sending them "as sheep among wolves." ". when we are fully grown men," writes Tauler in full fidelity to the tradition, "we may come and live in the land of Judah. 'Judah' means 'to confess God.' Then you can teach and admonish in Jerusalem . You can cross over into Galilee which means 'overcoming all things'. ,,8 The facility with which the technique for inducing a Pentecostal type conversion experience can, apparently, be acquired, makes it tempting to the popular movement to adopt evangelical traditions of proselytization. The maturer fruits of conversion oin terms of authentic interior cleansing will not be likely to develop, however, under condition~ 6f forc6d acti~on. Th6 spirit of "results" apparent among the'fastest paced evang'el!qa~l,16rom0i~r~ today should give us pause. For that spirit is not the meek Spirit, the Holy ~pir!t, thee Spirit of repentance which the popular spiritua!ity ~has claimed for its own. "I realize," wrote Andre Louf in a rece6t ar~ic, le, that repentance is not o_nly~ a difficult theme to touch on today, but is also~ g~ven the .complexes of our times--one of the most. difficult to pin down and live authentically. And yet it remains essential. In general, repentance is:'re-fused today. We live at the turning point between th~ obsessive neurosis (if ~ - I may call it that) characterizing the pe~:iod immediately before our own, and °~ the adolescent effervescence add aggressivity of a period that is now freeing ~ itself;of~ that neurosis. ProoL~that he has sinned can only create unbearable ~, ~anguish in one ~ho is already eate.~ up with anguish. Sin was intolerable for the l~eriod immediately before our own, and people tried to free them-selves from it by what the Fathers used to call dikaioma, the pretension to ° justice. Sin-is unbearable, so one claims to be just by an outward observance of law, or rather, of a certain n~n~ber of r~gulations; in r~hlity one is fleeing from me~tanoia. Today instead we hav~ an adolesc,eni effervescer~ce and aggreg- '~sivi~y which is~just as~ neurotic and ~'for which sin is just as uhbea'rable; the solution now, however, is to say there is no such thingP " ~ '" -~or to bury it under the cliches Of "love" and "joy" and "community" and "perice." ~' " The question for the next few years or s6, so far as the popular spirithal-itY goes, is whether ~it ~ill be able radically, to assimilate to its present spirit the basic spirituality of the Church and its metan~iac techniques. Or will the conversion remain incomplete? ¯ - SJohn Tauler, O.P., Spiritual Con]erences (St. Louis: B. Herder, 1961), p. 38. aAndre Louf, Spiritual Experience, Cistercian Studies, Vol. X, no. 2, p. 132. Ministry, Grace and the Process of Humanization Rev. Stephen J. Duffy Father Duffy is Associate ProfessOr and Chairmarl of the Department of Religious Stud.ies; L6yolaUr~iversity; New Orleans, LA 70118. My" subject ~is ttie very topical "theology of liberation.''a Before we plunge into the subject, however, there are some contextual questions that demand an answer. Why should w~ be concerned with grounding Christian pastoral or social ministry in theology at all? In this connection, is talk about a theology of liberation just a pep-talk or a sales pitch to send enthusiasm soaring? Are institutes and courses on pastoral ministry some kind bf inter-lude before we all get back to our real work? Do they amount to little more than abstract and theoretical discussions designed to titillate, the more intellectually inclined? My strong conviction is that a theology of liberation and discussions of pastoral ministry in that context should be far more than any of these. ZGustavo Guti6rrez, A Theology o] Liberation (Maryknoll: Orbis B~oks, 1973)." See also his "Notes for a Theology of Liberation," Theological Studies 31 (1970), pp. 243-261. Guti6rrez is prob~b~ly the most widely read and mo~t influential single theologian of liberation. For a good overview accompanied by a rather, complete bibliography, see Phillip Berryman, "Latin American Liberation Theology," Theolog-ical Studies 34 i(1973,), pp. 357-395. A variety of liberation theologies has been flourishing outside the Latin American situation. Cf. e.g., James H. Cone, A Black Theology o! Liberation (Philadlephia: J. B. Lippincott, 1970); R. Lauren.tin, Libera-tion, Development and Sa/v~ttion (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1972); J. B. Metz, Theology o] the World" (New York: Seabury Press, 1973); R. Reuther, Liberation Theology (New York: Paulist Press, 1972);~F. Herzog, Liberation Theology (New ¯ York: Seabury Press, 1972). 522 Ministry, Grace and Humanization / 5~23 '~ I am convinced first of all that there is a deep theological meaning to pastoral ministry. One of the most important contributions of Vatican II's Constitution on the Church is' the notion of Church as mystery. According to Vatican II, the. Church is first and foremost a mystery, a "kind of. sign of intimate union with God," and of the unity of all mankind." The Church is ,an outward sign and instrument, at once concealing and dis-closing the invisible action of God in the world. But if the Church is a mystery, then all its activity in the world is mysterious too, sharing in the very mystery of God. And if0'the Church is not solely the hierarchy or a voice speaking infallibly, or some vague entity.floating serenely above the chaos of this world, but is rather a community of persons, then our ac-tivities, too, share in the mysterious character of the,Church's action. As individual Christians, and as persons engaged in a work more or less clearly identified in some way as the Church's, there is no esCaping the fact ,that our activities will not be merely social or economic or educational or political .or psychological, but will bear a dimension that is Christian, and therefore mysterious. In the second place i believe'it is highly important for us to understand theologically this Christian dimension of our work, to grasp something in our own lives of this mysterious sign simultaneously revealing and con-cealing the. mystery of God. It is crucialfor us to understand what w~ are doing, for it is difficult to do a task well or enthusiastically without under-standing its purpose and meaning. Crucial, I say, because the meaning of Christian ministry cannot be exhausted by political~ sociological, economic, educational, or psychological interpretations. As sharers of the Chris'tian vision we affirm, in fact, that all such human acti'~ities, abstracted from their Christian dimension, would be ultimately meaningless. Thirdly, as students of theology, or :at least as persons with something of a professional interest in the Work of the Church, we must learn to think in theological terms about our ministry in the world. One of the emphases of liberation theology is that if theology has any meaning at all, it .must be applicable to real-life~ situations. Theoria .and praxis must be wed. I think that here our Christian education is :often lacking. We go through hours of religious instruction, even theology, without a hint that sometiow this must have practical implications. Few attempts are made to show the student how to relate what he has learned in °the classroom with what he is meeting in the s~reets. When Thomas Aquinas faced the prob-lem, at the very beginning of his Summa~ whether theology is a practical or a speculative science; he answered that it is both. From our~practice think we would have to deduce that we consider it to be purely speculative. The popular image of the priest closing his theology books on ordination, never to reopen ttirm again, is, unfortunately, close to the truth. Now I do not in the least want to downgrade theoretical or specuiative theology. I do not want it thrown out in favor of pastoral or even biblical Review ]or Religious, Volume 35; 1976/4 theology, I. feel it should.be even more emphasized, in the sense thaf each one should be trained, not merely to accept passively the theology he. or she is taught, .but rather to be able to reflect actively, creatively, theologi-cally, not only about classroom matter, but about the whole spectrura o1~ Christian :life in the world. If that is not done the pastoral gimmicks taught today will be obsolete in ten years, Critical theological reflection, by rel-ativi

Issue 22.5 of the Review for Religious, 1963. ; THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Personal Integrity and Intellectual Obedience If only through what we may term'a nebulous feeling of supernatural discomfort, no thoughtful religious long escapes the knotty problems implied in his reasoned re-actions to his superior's directives. Sooner or later he wonders how the perfection of obedience could possibly and honorably require that he judge to be wise and prudent what he may on occasion strongly feel to be un-wise and imprudent. Some of the implications of this complex question we have explored in two previous articles.1 The interest shown in these questions together with the oral and epistolary discussions consequent on them have prompted us to propose several additional problems and to seek suitable solutions to them. The Problems Religious superiors, like the rest of humankind, usu-ally do not know what we may call the content of the divine will. As I type this sentence I cannot be certain that objectively speaking this is what God prefers me to be doing at this moment. When a major superior as-signs a religious to teach the tenth grade, he cannot be sure that such is precisely the divine preference for this particular religious. In both of these cases all we can know is that our action, and our intentions are good. At times we may be reasonably assured that the action we contemplate is in its concrete circumstances better than some other, but even then we do not see how God judges the situation. Does not our inability to know the content of God's will render pointless the whole concept of intellectual obedience? Is the subject supposed to conform his judg- 1"Psychological Possibility of Intellectual Obedience," R~w~w FOR RrLtO~OOS, v. 19 (1960), pp. 67-76, and "The Superior's Precept and God's Will," REVIEW FOR RELmXOOS, v. 20 (1961), pp. 435--41. 4, 4" Thomas Dubay, S.M., is the spiritua director at Notr. Dame Seminary' 2901 South Carroll ton Avenue; Ne~ Orleans 18~ Louisi aria. VOLUME 22, 196~ 49~ ÷ + ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4:9,1 ment to the superior's judgment because the latter is somehow expressing the thought of God when he com-mands? And if the superior is not expressing the divine mind, why should one try to think as he thinks? Meaning of Intellectual Obedience Before we wrestle with these questions, we should per. haps review the fundamental principles involved. And among them we may recall first of all that intellectual obedience implies the attempt of a subject to see the wisdom of his superior's decision. While it does not re-quire a man to call black white when his superior is manifestly wrong, yet it is more than an assent to the mere proposition that God wills the non-sinful act of compliance. This latter assent plainly is not a conformity to the thought of the superior (as the classical concept of intellectual obedience would have it) or even an at-tempt at conformity (with which the classical concept would be content when more is not possible). Agreeing that God wills execution of a given command is nothing more than an assent to a universally received principle of Catholic theology: God wills obedience to legitimately constituted authority. Intellectual obedience according to the formulation of St. Ignatius .Loyola in his well known letter (from which Pius XII said we may not depart) requires that the subject "think the same, submitting his own judg-ment to the Superior's, so far as a devout will can incline the understanding." And hence in the many matters in which evidence is not coercive, "every obedient man should bring his thought into conformity with the thought of the Superior" (America Press edition, ;~ 9). This doctrine presents no problem when the subject possesses a founded certitude that his superior is either right or wrong. In the first case his judgment is con-formed by the very seein~ that the direction is correct, and in the second there is no need to try to conform to what is obviously false. The problem arises in debatable matters, matters in which an honest and objective man will agree that there may be something to be said for each of two or more opposing views. Since the evidence in these cases.is not coercive, a religious practices in-tellectual obedience when he makes a serious attempt to see reasons ~or the superior's view as well as for his own. We spont.aneously conjure up reasons for our own opinions, and so intellectual honesty hardly requires much effort regarding this half of the situation. But we do not spontaneously think up reasons for an opposing opinion, and so effort is requisite if we are to be co~n-pletely open. While this effort should be made in our disagreements with any man, it is especially needful in the relationship of the subject to his superior. Because of the position the latter holds as a representative of divine authority and because we may presume that this representafive re-ceives divine help in the exercise of his office (not, how-ever, a help that makes him infallible), the ftillriess of religious obedience bespeaks an especial effort to agree with his thought insofar as honesty permits and a devout will can bring it about. When a good religious, therefore, receives an unpalatable directive, this third and highest degree of obedience suggests that he make an earnest at-tempt to see his superior's point of view whenever the matter is important enough to consider motives at all. Man's Knowledge of the Divine Will From the point of view of the divine will, we may re-call to what extent a conformity is possible and in what sense a superior may be said to manifest that will. A man's will is materially conformed to God's when he wills precisely what God wills. If God were to give him a pri-vate revelation indicating exactly what He wished done at a given time and if the recipient of the revelation carried out the command, there would be a material con-formity. In this case the person's activity would corre-spond exactly with what we have called the content of the divine will. On a moment's reflection one can easily see that a material conformity known to be such is usu-ally impossible. A man simply does not know as a ,rule precisely what God knows to be the preferable course of action together with the circumstances that should sur-round the action. A religious superior is no exception to this limitation on our knowledge of the divine intellect and will. Frequently the superior cannot know that this directive or that is exactly what God would like done at this time and in these circumstances. And if the superior cannot know, neither can the subject. Formal conformity, however, is another matter. It re-fers to the motives one has in doing whatever he does. A man conforms his will to God's when he refers what he does to the divine good. Such is the conformity that St. Paul taught when he enunciated the command that we do all for the motive of God's glory: "Whether you eat or drink, or do anything else, do all for the glory of God" (1 Cor 10:31). While we often cannot know the content of the divine good pleasure and therefore cannot be sure whether or not we possess a material conformity to it, we can always know the motive with which we are to act, and thus we can be sure that we possess a formal con-formity. Hence, even thongh I cannot be sure that my proposal to give ten dollars to this particular poor man is the best thing I could do with the money (God may 4- 4- 4- Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 196.,1 495 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 496 well know some other better way in which I could use it) and even though as a consequence I do not know whether my will is materially conformed to His, yet if a~ a matter of fact I do give the gift out of love for God I am sure that my will is formally harmonized with His. And this is all that I am commanded to do in the situa-tion. I am bound to have the right motive for whatever good act I perform. When all this, then, is applied to religious obedience, it means that a superior usually does not know the con-tent of the divine will and consequently may or may not be commanding-, in material accord with it. From the point of view of the subject obeying, this does not matter. God does will that he carry out the precept as long as there is no evil in it. (We must notice that in this prac-tical execution of the command material conformity is always possible and commendable, that is, conformity to that content of the divine will which has revealed that it wants men to obey their superiors.) Furthermore, the subject should possess the formal element, the proper motive for obeying, which proximately is the authority of the superior and ultimately the ordering of his obedi-ence to the divine goodness by charity: Suggested Solutions We are now prepared for the first of our problems. Why should a religious try to make his judgment regard-ing some precept conform to his superior's judgment when he is not even sure that the latter's represents the content of the divine will? How can the constitutions of some religious congregations admonish members that they should make their superior's judgements their own, that they should "obey" even the superior's thought inso-far as such is possible? In answering these questions several principles must be borne in mind. First of all, any man is bound by mere natural honesty to conform his mind to the truth insofar as he is able. No one has a right to entertain error. He may have a right to immunity from attack because he is in error, but this is not to say that he has a right to cling to the error. There can be no right to what is unreal. Secondly, in a'genuine difference of opinion between two persons in which difference the truth is not definitely established with 'an objective certitude, honesty demands that any man make a sincere effort to see the reasons for the other's view. Any man is bound to weigh the other man's reasons as well as his own. Any other procedure is mere prejudice. Hence, the demand of intellectual obedi-ence that a subject try to see that his superior's directive is wise is no intrusion on his human dignity or intel-lectual integrity. On the contrary, this perfection of obedience is protective both of intellectual humility and of integrity since it aids a man in divorcing himself from his often inordinate attachment to his own opinion. It opens his mind to other views and other opinions. Hence, this fundamental honesty by which we give a sympathetic consideration to the intellectual position of another is common both to the subject-superior relationship and to the ordinary man-to-man relationship. Yet there is a difference. There must be a difference. Otherwise, we could hardly speak of the attempt a re-ligious makes to conform his judgment to that of his superior as a distinct degree of obedience. But what is the difference? What is the difference between Brother X and Sister Y trying to look sympathetically upon their superiors' decisions and these same two persons attempt-ing to discuss a question of politics or philosophy in an unprejudiced manner? In both situations there is a pursuance of truth, an effort to maintain intellectual in-tegrity. The solution to this problem is difficult, admittedly difficult. And we frankly confess that we are not at all sure that our solution is adequate. We think that it is correct as far as it goes, but we are not sure that it says all that needs to be said. We believe that there are two reasons why a religious' attempt to see his superior's decision as feasible and cor-rect is something over and above this same religious' ef-fort to see a differing view in an ordinary discussion. The first "something over and above" is the supernatural posi-tion of the superior. While he remains a weak, imperfect, and entirely fallible human being, an ecclesiastical su-perior does occupy in the supernatural society which is the Church a position which is ultimately derived from God Himself. As Pope Pius XII rightly observed, the authority by which religious superiors rule is a participa-tion in the divinely received authority possessed by the Roman Pontiff. Therefore, while the religious superior does remain fallible, and sometimes sadly fallible, yet his dispositions and directions enjoy an ontological rank that other dispositions and directions do not enjoy. This basis and rank are the foundation for a new reason over and above intellectual humility and integrity why a sub-ject should seek to view his superior's disposition sym-pathetically and seek, if possible, to conform his judg-ment to it. A second reason is based on the relationship between the first and second degrees of obedience with the third, that is, the relationship between execution of the com-mand (first degree) and conformity of will (second de-gree) with the submission of intellect (third degree). A mere reflection on the psychology of obedience indicates ÷ + Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thoma~ Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 498 that the perfection with which a man executes a directive and with which he conforms his intention to that of his superior will ordinarily be dependent on his intellecttial agreement or disagreement with the judgment implied in the directive. Our point is not that the typical religious will not execute a command unless he sees its wisdom but that he often will not execute it as per[ectly when he believes it to be unwise or foolish. Our point is also that he will find conformity of the will, that is, really wanting to carry out this command, much more difficult when the precept appears to him unfeasible. A religious priest whose superior directs him to teach a course which he judges to be of flimsy value hardly throws himself ir, to the task of doing an excellent job with it. He teaches the course, yes. But unless he is a man of rare virtue, he cuts at least some minor corners with it. A sister who is asked to organize a testing program that seems to her ineffectual is an unusual person if she does not experi-ence difficulty in wanting to organize it. Because there is a lack of intellectual harmony between these religious and their superiors, harm is done to the first and second degrees of their obedience. This fact affords us another reason over and above mere open-mindedness why a subject should seek to see the wisdom of his superior's decisions and to conform his judgment to them. If our analysis is correct, it seems to follow that intel-lectual obedience is rooted in the will. The conformity on this third level is, of course, found in the intellect; but the force moving the intellect toward it is the will. This observation is not surprising when we consider that the "moving-moved" relationship is the case even with the execution of a command. The actual operation of teach-ing or sweeping is executed by the other faculties, while the moving role is that of the will. We may speak, there-fore, of obedience of the intellect because it is the in-tellect in the third degree of obedience that is harmo-nized with the intellect of the superior, even though it is the will that moves it to the harmony. There remains another facet to this problem, or, if one prefers, another problem. Granted that we have in-dicated two reasons over and above mere intellectual honesty why a subject should attempt to see his superior's view, we must yet discover what guarantee of truth can be offered that will justify the subject's conformity. After all, is not evidence the fundamental criterion of truth; and if we are going to ask a religious to hold a precept as prudent or feasible, do we not have to assure him of its validity on the basis of objective evidence? And if a religious superior has no divine guarantee that his di-rections conform to the objective truth of things, how can one rightly ask another to harmonize his intellect with them? This is no easy problem. In answer to it ~ve must first, remark that no one is asking a subject to extend the value of his intellectual assent beyond available evidence. We do not suggest that a religious ought to make a certain judgment that his superior is correct ~vhen there simply is no irrefragable evidence that he is correct, nor do we feel that the sub-ject should entertain a judgment of higher value than his superior entertains. If the superior only thinks that this course of action is feasible, surely the subject is not re-quired by intellectual obedience to be sure that it is such. As a matter of fact, the latter would be a difformity, not a conformity. We may observe, likewise, that in many of the disposi-tions made in a religious community neither the superior nor the subject can be prudently sure that a particular course of action is the most feasible. An autocratic su-perior may act as though he is certain that his decisions are the only reasonable ones; but this does not, of course, mean that they are. How often can one know with complete certitude that a given sister should teach the third grade rather than the fifth or that a brother should specialize in history rather than in political sci-ence or that a priest should serve on the mission band rather than on a parish staff? Many of us may entertain strong opinions in such matters, but few could offer in most cases objective evidence that one decision alone is reasonable or even the best possible. It would seem, then, that intellectual obedience frequently does not require a certain assent. But we think that it often requires an opinionative assent, that is, an assent that holds a proposition to be probably true because based on one or more solid mo-tives. Two reasons suggest this statement. First, when an intelligent man or woman (we refer to the superior) decides on a course of action, one may usually presume that there is at least one solid motive behind it that would found at least an opinionative judg-ment that the decision is a prudent one. Secondly, the superior himself usually judges his directive as at least probably correct; and so il~ he can find some good reason for it, the subject of good will should frequently be able to find it also. The first reason bears on extrinsic evidence (authority), the second on intrinsic. Is a guarantee required for the objective truth or wis-dom of the command? Must the superior in looking for intellectnal obedience in his subjects offer them some guarantee that he is at least probably if not certainly right in his dispositions? Although the two questions ÷ ÷ ÷ Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 499 4. 4. + Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 500 may look equivalent, we would answer yes to the first and no to the second. No man can rightly give an intellectual assent to a proposition unless he has some motive pro-portioned to the quality of his assent. I do not proceed in an orderly fashion when I judge to be certain an as-sertion for which I have only probable evidence or when I hold an opinion with not even probable evidence. Hence, a religious need not judge his superior to be surely correct when he can see only probable reasons in favor of the command. When the subject can see no intrinsic reason in favor of the precept's feasibility (and such is rare, indeed), he should either refrain from judg-ing it altogether or base his opinionative judgment that it is feasible on the mere fact that his superior thinks, it so. In this second case he rests on extrinsic authority or evidence. His intellectual honesty is preserved in that he has not made a certain assent, and his obedience is per-fect in that he has made every reasonable effort to bring his judgment into accord with that of his superior. A superior is not ordinarily bound to offer the guar-antee for the assent his subject is to give to his disposi-tions. It would be unreasonable to expect one in author-ity to explain his reasons every time he decides upon some course of action. And it happens occasionally that natural secrecy prevents him from disclosing why he acts as he does. Yet at the same time we feel that often, if not usually, a superior should spontaneously offer reasons for his directives when they are out of the ordinary or when they are especially susceptible to misunderstanding. would even say that unless secrecy forbids it, a superior ordinarily does well to let the reasons for his commands be known whenever an intelligent subject could not l easily conclude to them and when the matter is impor-tant enough to go into them at all. Otherwise, it is dif-ficult to see how the subject could give an intelligentl assent or bring his judgment into line with that of hisJ superior except perhaps by a sheer act of will. As we have just hinted in the preceding paragraph,, all of our above attempts to give a reasonable account the roots of intellectual obedience as it bears on the ob-jective order of things are directed toward cases in whichl an agreement with the superior's mind is called for. There are many cases in the ordinary living of the re ligious life in which the directions given are not impor tant enough even to concern oneself about a conformity~ of judgment. In these it is rather blind obediertce thai is indicated: the willed execution without any thoughi as to why the command is given. We hardly think tha, a sister who has been asked by her superior to serve a.~ companion for another on a trip to town should bothei about trying to discover the rightness of the request o~ why it was made. Such scrutiny too easily lends itself to pettiness. Our above discussion rather envisions more important matters in which a religious should know his superior's mind that he may all the better carry it out. How, then, may we answer the questions with which we began? Does our inability to know the content of the divine will render meaningless the whole concept of in-tellectual obedience? It the superior is perhaps not ex-pressing the divine mind when he commands, is there any point in the subject trying to conform his judgment to that of his superior? Man's inability to know the divine mind in many of the practical details of human lille does not render mean-ingless the widely received principles of intellectual obe-dience. The religious is not assenting to his superior's direction as though it were an infallible oracle, nor is he judging that it is the only possibly reasonable disposition of the matter. Precisely because we reject the notion that a superior is revealing the content of the divine mind do we dissolve at the same stroke that other mistaken notion that in intellectual obedience the subject is assenting to a certain proposition known as such by God. Rather is the subject merely trying to put his whole being, intellect as well as will and body, into a harmony with his su-perior, a man who takes the place of God for him. And this attempt at harmonization implies no violence to in-tellectual integrity for the simple reason that it rests on evidence, either intrinsic or extrinsic. We may conclude, then, that the religious who prac-tices perfectly all three degrees of obedience integrates rather than disintegrates his personality. He executes di-rectives promptly and wholly, and thus establishes a new contact with God who has parceled out some of His supreme authority to men. He wants to carry out the precept because he sees the divine authority in a human instrument, and thus he places himself in the genuine stream of what is. He attempts to set his intellect in ac-cord with his superior's, and thus he simultaneously maintains intellectual integrity and submits his supreme faculty to the divine order. And all this is done through supernatural charity. This is sanctity because it is reality. ÷ ÷ ÷ In~ellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 501 PAUL HINNEBUSCH, O.P. Requesting in Charity ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul Hinnebusch, O.P., is the chaplain at Rosaryville; Pon-chatoula, Louisiana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~02 We are all very conscious that charity inspires us .to give help to others, but have we ever realized that char-ity also inspires us to ask for help? St. Thomas Aquinas was well aware of this. He writes, for example, to a prince: "Your charity has asked me to reply in writing to your question. It is not proper that the requests which charity faithfully offers be refused by a friend.'u Thomas realized so well that charity seeks help as well as gives it, because he knew from experience what unity in lively charity can be. Living in the golden age of the Order of Preachers, when community life was fully synonymous with life in charity, when mutual charity penetrated everything, Thomas daily experienced char- ~ty at its best. Charity was a mutual give and take in per-fect spontaneity. Those early friars knew well the spirit behind St. Augustine's command in their rule: "Call nothing your own, but let all things be held in common among you." In the thinking of Augustine, this statement applied not only to material goods but to whatever the Christian has, whether material or spiritual, whether gifts of grace or talents of nature. Augustine was remarkably conscious of the unity of all Christians in Christ, of how all live one same life together in Him. For example, constrasting his own intensely active life as a bishop with the leisurely contemplation of a monk to whom he is wri(ing, Augustine says: "We are one body under one head, so that you are busy in me, and I am at leisure in you" (PL 33:187). Because I am one with Christ, what Christ is doing in you He is doing for me. And because you are one with Christ, what Christ is do-ing in me He is doing for you. We are one body with many functions of one life. We are one mystical person in Christ. Elsewhere Augustine writes: "Whatever my brother has, is mine, if I do not envy and if I love. I do not have it in myself, but I have it in him. It would not be mine, if we were not in one body under one Head." x Martin Orabmann, The Interior Lile o] St. Thomas Aquinas (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1951), p. 9. In this unity of life in Christ, this one life in love, the mutual sharing of spiritual and material goods is love in action. Love receives as well as gives, love asks as well as grants. If the bond of love makes us consider that our brother's needs are our own and inspires us to supply him with what he needs, that same bond of love does not hesitate in appealing to our brother's love for help. Our appeal is based upon our love for him and his love for us. It is only right that what we expect him to grant in char-itY should be requested in that same charity so that both the asking and the giving are an exercise and a strength-ening of the bond of love. Our blessed Savior sets a beautiful example of these things in dealing with the Samaritan woman at Jacob's well. In His love for the woman, He desires to do her a service; but good psychologist that He is, He knows that her pride will resent His offer of help. And not merely because in her particular case pride will resent the un-veiling of her sin but because human beings in general like to be independent and do not care to admit that they need others. Their pride instinctively resents anyone who tries to help them. We have all experienced at one time or another the pain of having our charity rebuffed. And therefore when Jesus wishes to do this woman a service, instead of immediately offering help to her, He begins by requesting help from her. He knows how valu-able a request for help can be in establishing good rela-tions among people. Rather than give her pride an op-portunity to resent His help, He appeals to what is best in her human nature. Human nature was made for love. But love's proper act is to give. To win the woman's good will and love, Jesus gives her the opportunity to give to Him. He asks her to do Him a service: "Give me to drink" (Jn 4:10). His humble request and His need immediately wins her sympathy and benevolence. Upon the initial good will which she thus manifests, Jesus proceeds to build an eternal friendship. By humbly accepting the service of her love, He leads her humbly to accept His love in re-turn, His love with its gift of "living water" springing up into a divine love, binding her to Him in an everlast-ing friendship. This is the apostolic technique which Jesus teaches to His apostles. Christian charity has to be mutual, love has to be a response to love. From the prospective convert the apostle must draw forth some sort of love, even if it is only an act of natural benevolence towards him. Grace, seizing upon this, can transform it into some-thing divine. Since man was made for love and love's proper act is to give, if we would set up a bond of love between our-÷ ÷ Requesting in Charity ÷ ÷ Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 504 selves and our fellow we must give him the opportunity to give to us. We must win his benevolence and sym-pathy by humbling ourselves before him in need. Love knows how to receive as well as give. Is not the recogn:i-tion of another's need a natural incentive to sympathy and love? Is not then the humble recognition of our mu-tual need of one another the best soil for mutual low:? For charity is mutual giving. Almighty God has deliber-ately created us mutually dependent upon one another that we may have an opportunity to love by giving ar, d to love by receiving, that thus the bond of love may 'be perfect. Therefore our blessed Lord instructed His apostles to receive even while they gave: they were to accept the hospitality of those to whom they wished to preach, they were to eat what was placed before them, they were to sleep on what was prepared for them (Lk 10:7-9). They were to be humbly dependent for material things upon the people upon whom they wished to shower super-natural gifts. Thus there would be established a balance and the mutual interchange which is charity in action. St. Paul's words describe the situation well: "There is a just bal-ancing- your abundance at the present time supplying their need, that their abundance may in turn supply your need, thus making for an equality" (2 Cor 8:14). Christ used this same technique with the disciples on the road to Emmaus. Though it was getting towards evening and the day was far spent, He acted as though He were going on, giving them the opportunity to urge their hospitality upon Him, so that by their love in giv-ing to Him their hearts would be prepared to receive His greater gifts (Lk 24:28 f.). Christ our Lord sent forth His disciples two by two so that they could mutually give and receive as they trav-elled to their missions, upholding one another in love. For in Christianity there is no room for the proud inde-pendent spirit which rejects others as though he does not need them, spurning their help as though he can get along without them, refusing to accept from others lest a debt of gratitude make him dependent upon them, carefully hoarding his own resources in fear that giving to others will impoverish him and make him dependent. How tremendously more fruitful all of our labors would be if all of us would work together in this humble charity which recognizes our need of one another! True charity is ever humbly aware of our mutual dependence upon one another in Christ and of our solidarity in Him; and therefore it is willing not only to give help but humbly to accept it and to give again in grateful return. For Christians must never give to others with an air of condescending superiority but must always humble them-selves to the level of the needy, in genuine compassion. "Be minded as was Christ Jesus," says st. Paul. "Though he was divine by nature, he did not consider his being on an equality with God a thing to be grasped, bi~t on the contrary he emptied himself, taking the nature of a slave, and was made like to men" (Phil 2:5-6). For the gifts of God, whether spiritual or material, are never given to us in order to exalt us above our fellowmen but rather to give us the means of serving Him in humble love. "Freely ~have you received, freely give" (Mr 10:8). If St. Thomas Aquinas always looked upon requests for his help as proceeding from humble charity, in humility he considered himself the servant of all in that same charity. For example, a young Dominican lecturer of Venice once wrote to him a list of thirty-six questions and asked for the answers within four days! Though this may seem to be an inconsiderate abuse of the generosity of an extremely busy man like Thomas, especially since the questions were vaguely phrased, nevertheless in sending back all the answers Thomas gently replied: "Although I h~ave been very busy, I have put aside for a time the things that I should do, and have decided to answer in-dividually the qusetions which you proposed, so as not to be lacking to the request of your charity." We must beware, then, of setting self-sufficient bound-aries about ourselves, saying, as it were, "This is my sphere of influence in the community, this is the work I will do. I can do this and no more, and I will accept no help in doing it, for I am self-sufficient within these lim-its. I want no help, because I wish to be independent of the need of helping another in return. So let us all de-marcate our spheres of influence, let us carefully portion out the common resources of our community life. This portion shall be mine, that portion shall be yours, and let us not trespass upon one anotherl You may not borrow my help or my equipment or my resources even in time of need, for at all costs we must avoid trespassing the 'rights' of one another. In short, let us kill all the spon-taneity of community life in charity." Religious who by vow have renounced everything, even their own wilI, are the last people in the world who should be insisting upon their rights. Is not charity a higher law than rights, does not charity break down the wails of proprietorship? Does not charity concede to others that to which they have no strict right? For whenever we have something and our neighbor is in true need of it, then it is no longer our own but his. It is not his in justice, but in charity. He cannot demand it of us--unless he is in dire necessity--but he can humbly ask it in love, and we grant it in love. We owe it to him + + + Requesting in Charity VOLUME 22, 1963 505 Paul Hinn~bu~ch, O.P. REVIEW FOR REL|G~OU$ in the charity which makes all of us one body under one Head. And yet, there is order in charity. For though what I~ have is given me by God not just for myself but for the service of others in Christ, yet I must use and distribute what I have in an orderly way, using it for the appointed purposes in community life. If I am called upon to de-vote some of my time or my resources in giving emer-geny help to another so that my appointed tasks may seem thereby to suffer, rather than stifle charity's eager-hess to help I entrust my own affairs to divine providence while I attend to the immediate needs of my neighbor. On the other hand, the common ownership of all things in community life, in this one body under one Head in charity, does not justify any one member or group of members o[ the religious community in appro-priating an unjust share of the common resources, taking more than should be alloted when distribution is made to each according to his need. If resources are unjustly appropriated in this way, even the charity of those who are unjustly deprived cannot approve of the injustice, though they may have to endure it in patience. Even charity cannot approve of the injustice, for charity is obliged to love the common good and cannot permit this harmful swelling of one member at the expense of an-other. We cannot appeal, then, to the fact that we are one body under one Head to justify any highhanded appro-priating of the common resources. What my neighbor has is mine, what the community has is mine, but only in the friendship of charity. I have only love's rights to these things. And therefore only in humble charity may !1. re-quest more than is already allotted to me. Only mutual charity makes what is his mine and what is mine his. Charity never demands, charity humbly asks. And when she has received, in due course she makes a grateful re-turn. Everyone who is generous in fulfilling the law of char-ity and is ever eager to be at the service of others sooner or later runs into those who abuse his generosity by mak-ing, in the name of charity, requests which charity has no right to make. There will be those who will use the main point of this article as an excuse for imposing upon others, saying, "I request this in charity, so in charity you may not refuse me." Are there situations when we may refuse requests for help without violating charity? At first sight it would seem not, for our Lord says, "Give to everyone who asks of you" (Lk 6:30). However, our Lord never asks the im-possible. There are times when one is so laden with other duties of justice and charity that he cannot possibly ful-fill a request for help. But in a case like this, charity must know how to say "No." "There is always a way of refus-ing so graciously," says the Little Flower, "that the re-fusal affords as much pleasure as the gift itself would have." Lest we abuse charity's rigl~t to ask help, we must al-ways be very considerate of those of whom we ask help. We should not ask a generous person for his help when we could do the things ourselves easily enough. For if the one we ask is really charitable and generous, then we can be sure he already has more than enough to do, for every-one is asking his help. We must take care never to ask un-necessarily or selfishly. If we really do not need help and the person we ask sees that this is so, then he is not uncharitable in refusing us. In this case a work of charity is not called for, since by definition a work of mercy is aid given to one who has true need. Furthermore, a busy religious has to be dis-criminating in the works of charity he undertakes. Since it is impossible for him to do everything, he does not violate charity if he makes a prudent choice about whom he is to help or about the type of aid he is to give; for as we have said, there is an order of charity. No one is obliged to sacrifice the greater works of charity and jus-tice to aid someone who would abuse his charity. Even in refusing a request which charity has no right to make, we must be charitable in our manner of refus-ing. One must patiently bear with the fault of the one who seeks to impose upon him. Likewise, we must be careful in judging whether or not a person really is abus-ing charity's rights to ask. Ordinarily we ought to pre-sume that the bond of charity lies at the basis of all re-quests for our help. If we may refuse help to those who are uncharitably inconsiderate in the requests they make of us, on the other hand we should anticipate the needs of those whose charity is so considerate of us that they hesitate to ask our help lest they unduly burden us. If, when necessary, charity knows how to refuse help in a gracious way, true charity is also always gracious in its manner of giving help. If our consent to help another is grudging and ungracious, we deal him an uncharitable blow even as we help him, for we humiliate him by our attitude. My son, to your charity add no reproach, nor spoil any gift by harsh words! Like clew that abates a burning so does a word improve a gift. ÷ ÷ + Requesting in Charity VOLUME 22~ 1965 5O7 Sometimes the word means more than the gift; both are offered by a kindly man. Only a fool upbraids before giving: a grudging gift wears out the expectant eyes (Sir 18:14-17). "The word means more than the gift" because the gen-uine charity behind the asking and the giving, the giving and the receiving, is the one thing precious above all else. 4- 4- 4- Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ANTONIO ROSMINI Three Q estions on the Spiritual Life [Antonio Rosmini, 1797-1855, was one of the great figures of the Church in the nineteenth century. Besides founding the Rosminian Fathers (the Institute of Charity), he also founded the Sisters of Providence (the Rosminian Sisters). As the founder of the sisters, he was naturally solicitous for their spiritual progress and advancement. The Review is happy to present here a translation of a letter :from Father Rosmini to the members of the Sisters of Providence in England on three important matters of the spiritual life. The translation has been made by the Reverend Denis Cleary, I.C.; Saint Mary's; Derrys Wood; Wonersh; Guildford, Surrey; England.] Stresa~ September 24, 1850 Dear Daughters in Christ, I would not wish you to judge my charity towards you by the number of letters which you receive from me. The Lord knows that I have you in my heart and that I offer you to Him every day on the altar. If I write infrequently, attribute this to my weakness and to the fact that I know you have a superior who is full of zeal for your growth in Jesus Christ. Nevertheless, now that this superior of yours, and my dear brother in Christ, is returning to you after his journey to Italy, I cannot but send with him a letter which will serve to thank you for the gifts which you have sent me in your charity as a sign of your devo-tion and in which I shall answer those three important questions which you sent to me. I answer these questions because, although I know that you could have the same answers from your immediate superior who is full of wisdom and the spirit of God, I think that hearing the same things from me, as you desire and ask, will give you consolation and strength in doing good because of that affection and obedience which you grant me in Christ Jesus. It is for this reason that I write, not necessarily for your greater instruction. The first question which you ask me is this: "How can one use a spirit of intelligence without falling away from simple and blind obedience?" ÷ Three Questions VOLUME 22, 1963 + 4. ÷ ¯ 4ntonlo Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS This question and the other two which follow show your spiritual discernment becau.se they manifest your de-sire for instruction in the most perfect things. Perfec-tion demands that we know how to join and harmonize in our daily actions those virtues which, at first sight., seem opposed and even, perhaps, to exclude one another reciprocally. In fact, although no virtue can ever truly be opposed to another, just as no truth can be opposed to another truth, there is an art in uniting harmoniously those virtues which belong to faculties and passions which have contrary tendencies. When possessed by a per-fect man these faculties and passions come together in an orderly way. Knowing how to bring them together, there-fore, belongs to the study of that perfection to which we are consecrated. The person who seeks for perfection is rather like a composer who knows how to blend the voices of contralto, baritone, and bass. Coming now to your que.,stion, I say that simple and blind obedience can be joined with a spirit of intelli-gence and that this can be done in various ways. The First Way. It must be realised that the higher and the more universal the reason which governs our actions, the greater the use we make of a spirit of intelligence. Acting with a spirit of intelligence only means acting ~c-cording to reason without allowing ourselves to be moved or disturbed by any passion whatsoever. Now the highest and most universal of all reasons for acting is that of doing in everything the will of God (I expect you have seen what I have written on this matter and have also read it). But he who obeys with simplicity and purity is certain of doing the will of God who has said concerning ecclesiastical superiors: "He who hears you hears me." This is a simple but efficacious and sublime reason for acting. It contains so much good in itself that, when it is present, it renders every other reason superfluous. So you see that although obedience is called blind this is not because it is without light but because it has so much light that it does not need to take it from elsewhere. It is as though a man is said to be without light because he does not light candles when the sun shines. The Second Way. Besides this, he who obeys blindly and simply can use his spirit of intelligence in the way in which he carries out what he has been commanded. Two persons carry out a command of their superior: one of them does it without reflection, without attention, without putting his heart into the work, without think-ing of what he has been told, without endeavoring to understand what has been commanded; the other does the same work trying to know, first of all, what his supe-riot's intention was, then endeavoring to carry out that intention in the best way possible as if it were his very own. The former, you see, acts without conviction and almost in spite of himself. The other performs his duty willingly; he desires to succeed; he finds his happiness in this work since he is certain of pleasing God. The latter obeys both with simplicity and with a spirit of intelli-gence, like a living and intelligent person, not like a machine. It is obviously impossible for the superior, when he commands, to mention in detail all those things which concern the way in which the order, is to be carried out. He gives the command and then leaves the subject to carry it out. The subject who has the greater spirit of intelligence can be known immediately through observa-tion of the manner in which he carries out his duty. The Third Way. It often happens that the command is more or less general and that many things are left to the common sense of the one who receives it. In this case, the subject must be careful to note the sphere of action de-termined for him by the command of his stiperior. Within that sphere he is obliged by obedience itself to work in a personal manner, not capriciously, 9[ course, but according to sound judgment, that is to say, with a spirit of intelligence. If you consider the different members of a religious congregation, you will see that they all act through obe-dience, even the general of the order because he is subject to the pope at least. Nevertheless, obedience leaves a more or less free field to the details of their obedience. .Superiors have greater scope in this respect than subjects. According to his position, each one can .and must make use of his spirit of intelligence. In your own house, you begin from the central superior and you go down through all the other offices, each of which is subordinate to the one above and so directed by obedience. Nevertheless, all the work has to be carried out with a spirit of intelli-gence. Everyone has to use this spirit in so far as obedi-ence leaves the matter to her discretion. Take another example, a teacher or a nurse, for in-stance. Obedience imposes this work, and so the merit of obedience is present. But what a great deal of intelligent application is needed to carry it out perfectlyl And if you consider even particular commands, you will find that the greater part of them leaves some liberty where one's own intelligence can be used. For instance, you have to write a letter and have even been told in general what to write. Is it not still necessary to think carefully about the way in which the matter is to be expressed? Obedience, therefore, never determines all the actions which a person does--that would be impossible. Many commands give scope, and great scope, to the exercise of personal initia-tive. + + + Three Questions VOLUME 22~ 196~ ~ntonlo Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Fourth Way. This concerns the observations which we make respectfully to our superiors about the commands they give us. These observations are perfectly lawful, but in order to make them with a true spirit of intelligence three conditions are required: first, that these observations spring simply from zeal for good and t.he glory of God, not from any self-interest; second, that they are not made lightly--in a word, that we do not say the first thing that comes into our head without having re-flected upon the matter; third, that they are made in spirit of submission so that if the superior insists upon his command the subject does not sulk but does what he is told with alacrity and joy. If the matter has great importance for the glory of God and it seems that what is commanded by the superior is not the right course, one can have recourse to a higher superior. This is not contrary to the simplicity of obedi-ence provided that the three conditions mentioned are put Jr;to practice. Superiors like to hear the observations of their subjects provided that these are offered in a spirit of charity and humility. If after all this it happens that what has to be done and what is done for obedience leads to some harmful effect (provided, of course, one is not treating of sin), the one who obeys has lost nothing. On the contrary, he gains because his act of obedience con-tains a mortification which is most pleasing to God. The man who mortifies himself in order to obey has taken great step forward on the road to sanctity both because he has denied his own will and because he has sacrificed his selblove and submitted his reason to a greater reason, God's very own, from which the command comes. That is suflacient for the first question. The second question is this: "How can one unite prac-tically the spirit of contemplation to an active life en-gaged in works of charity?" Since the union of holy contemplation with the exer-cise of works of charity is the aim of our congregation, follows that we must not be satisfied until we have ob-tained from God the light to join these two things in our-selves. I say that we must obtain from God the power of uniting contemplation and action in our life because the' only master who can teach us such a sublime science is, Jesus Christ Himself who gave us a most perfect example' of it. You see, this science consists in nothing else but' union, and the closest possible union, with Jesus Christ. In His mercy He has already prepared in His Church the' means necessary for this union. Even before we were born or knew how to desire them, these means were made' ready for us. What are these means, then, which enablel us to obtain this intimate and continually actuated union~ with Jesus Christ, this union which does not distract us from works of external charity but, on the contrary, im-pels us towards them and helps us to implement them? The first among them is the pure and simple intention of seeking Jesus Christ alone in all our thoughts, works, and actions. This uprightness of intention is harmed to a greater or less degree by any other affection which influ-ences our actions. It follows that our intention of seeking in everything Jesus Christ alone is not perfect if we have not given up self-love and sensuality entirely. I said, how-ever, that that intention which seeks Jesus Christ alone in everything is hurt by every affection which influences our internal or external actions because an affection or sensation which has no influence on our voluntary thoughts or words or actions (in which case the affection or sensation is entirely opposed by our will) in no way diminishes the purity of our intention. On the contrary, it gives it scope and increases it according to those words of God to St. Paul: "Virtue is made perfect in tribula-tion." The second means, which serves to help the first, con-sists in carrying out all our exercises of piety, and espe-cially our reception of the sacraments and our assistance at Mass, with the greatest possible fervor, tenderness, gratitude, sincerity, and intelligence. It is especially in these two acts of devotion that there is loving union be-tween Jesus Christ and the devout soul. The third means is that of endeavoring continually to keep alive the love of Jesus Christ in our hearts by hold-ing Him present, painted, as it were, before the eyes of the soul. We have to hear His words as they are recorded in the Gospel; we have to consider the actions which He performed during His mortal life and at the moment of His precious death (all these actions should be familiar to a spiritual person); we must apply His words and His example to ourselves and to all that we have to do; we must ask how He would act in our case and how He wishes us to act; when we are in doubt we should take advice, desiring sincerely to know and to do what is most perfect and is most pleasing to Him; we must listen to His voice with reverence and love when He speaks within US. The fourth means is that of beholding Jesus Christ in our neighbor. Whenever we have contact with our neigh-bor, we must endeavor to be of use to him in Jesus Christ and receive from him edification for ourselves. If we have a great zeal for the salvation of souls, we shall do every-thing in our power to win them and to bringlthem close to Jesus Christ. At the same time, we will wage war on useless and idle words and upon superfluous conversa-tioHnso awnedv vear,i nin c uorridoesrit yto. direct our every wo|rd/and work + 4. 4. Three Questions VOLUME 22, 1963 Antonio Rosrnini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to the betterment of others and of ourselves, and so to bring forth fruits of eternal life, two things are necessary: primarily and principally, charity should always be ou.r guiding star; secondly, we must ask from Jesus Christ the light of His prudence which multiplies the fruits of charity. A soul that always proposes to itself the good of souls in everything that it says or does will always be recollected even in the midst of many external works be-cause its spirit is always intent on charity; and he who thinks always of the charity of Jesus Christ and has noth-ing else in his heart is always recollected in Jesus Christ and in God because the Scripture says: "God is charity." To acquire the habit which enables these four means to fructify in a constant recollection of spirit even in the midst of external occupations, it is necessary to make great efforts in the beginning and mortify oneself reso-lutely with regard to everything that distracts the mind and is opposed" to this state of recollection and of the presence of God. We must ask this grace of Jesus Christ with great constancy. Only by persevering in intense prayer can the soul be established in that permanent con-dition of quiet in God which is never lost through any' external action provided the will does not give itself to evil. Here you must realise that the power which communi-cates with God and is joined to God is different from those other powers with which we work externally. When, therefore, man has come to a certain state of con-templation and union, he works with those powers which regard external actions without placing any obstacle to that supreme power which gives him quiet and rest in God. So it is that we read of certain holy persons who, while they seemed completely taken up externally, were speaking internally with their God and Creator. And this conversation of theirs, instead of impeding them, helped them to do their external works better, just as outward actions did not turn them away from their interior~ union with God. Such a desirable state is usually obtained by those faithful and constant souls who, at the beginning, suffer much and mortify themselves greatly and pray with in-tensity and wholeheartedness. This is the state which the Sisters of Providence must strive to obtain during the time of the novitiate when they have every opportunity, if only they will use it, of binding themselves indissolubly to God, the spouse of their souls. The union begt, n then must last for the whole of their life. Those sisters who have not obtained it completely during their novitiate must strive to gain it as soon as possible, But let us pass to the third question. The third question was, then: "How can one unite per- fect zeal and an ardent desire for the perfection of charity with perfect detachment from the esteem~ of others and a sincere desire for contempt and ill use." This question is no less difficult to dea,1 with than the preceding two--to answer in practice, ,I mean, not in words. But what is difficult to Jesus Christ and to those who hope in Him and pray to Him . ?~t In order to reply to this last question~of yours, I say that it is necessary to suppose in a person h foundation of solid humility. This consists in not attributing to oneself that which belongs to God alone or to other men. Humil-ity, in fact, is only justice. It is just that m~{n should think himself nothing (because he really is such) and that he should think God everything; it is just tl~at man should recognise that glory does not appertain to !nothing but to that which is everything. Therefore he should wish for no glory for himself but the greatest possible ~glory for God. When a man knows these things, it is just ~hat he should feel a certain uneasiness when he is praised by men be-cause he who is nothing cannot desire to b~ praised with-out usurping what is not proper to him. IOn the other hand, he should be joyful when he sees that men glorify God. Man however is not only nothing. He is something worse: he is a sinner (not only because of the sins which he has committed but also because of th~se which he could have committed and would commit con. tinually if God did not have compassion on him). It lis just there-fore that he should desire to be despised[and that he should rejoice when he is ill treated by mefl. Sentiments of this nature must be unshakeable and deeply implanted in the soul of a religious person. Nevertheless, this per-son must realise also that although man is a, lnothing and moreover subject to every sin, Jesus Christ lias redeemed him through His mercy freely given; He h~s saved him and clothed him with Himself in such a maqner that the Christian bears the adornments of Jesus Christ. These are more or less rich and precious according io the abun-dance of virtues, of merits, and of grace poss,essed by the Christian. A man who finds himself adorned in this man-ner is indeed mad if this causes pride in him. On the other hand, if he realises that all these treasures are given to him freely and through no merit of his own, he will humble himself and attribute to God alone dhe glory of them without usurping for himself even the sdaallest part of that glory. Yet, just as God has given to man theset'reasures of v~rtue and of grace through a wholly gratmtous love, so also He makes h~m a paruc~pator of H~s own glory. Once more, though, man must not consider this glo',ry which is g~ven to him as his own but as belonging to Jisus Christ 4, Three Questions VOLUMF 22~ 1963 4. 4. ÷ Antonio Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS who, through His mercy, has wished to pour it out upon those who believe in Him, and to allow them a share it. With all this well understood, we can formulate certain rules which enable us to unite a desire of perfecting onr works of charity with detachment from self-esteem and, moreover, with a sincere desire of contempt (a most pre-cious thing). The rules are the following. First Rule. Generally speaking we must not give any occasion for contempt, at least through our own fault. When, despite this, we are belittled~ we must receive our humiliation with joy as something precious; we must thank God for it without fearing that it will damage our works of charity because, even if some damage does re-sult from it, this is desired by the Lord for His own ends. We ought not to turn away from it but trust in Provi-dence which will know how to obtain greater good h'om the immediate evil. Second Rule. We must never do anything whatever to gain praise from men. To do so is a most despicable act. When praise doescome of its own accord, we must at-tribute it to Jesus Christ to whom alone it belongs; we must, for our part, fear it as a danger and take precau-tions against it by internal acts of humility and contempt of ourselves; we must protest that we do not want to re-ceive it as a part of our reward. After this, if we find that praise is useful towards the perfection of our works of charity, we can take pleasure in it provided that this pleasure concerns the perfection of charity. We must not refer it simply to ourselves and we must be careful that no feeling of vanity or pride arise from it. On the con-trary, after we have received praise we should prepare ourselves for greater humiliation, persuaded that praise has made us no better than we were before. Third Rule. When we realise that the praise has been exaggerated, we should be displeased because this is con-trary to truth and justice. We should attribute it to the large heart of the one who gives it. Fourth Rule. In order to know whether we are really detached ourselves, we must see if we are glad when others are praised. You especially must ask yourselves whether you rejoice when praise is given to your sisters. Even the very smallest dislike or jealousy on this account would be a very great defect. You must be generous with others but especially with your sisters; you must consider their virtues far more than their vices; and you must try to maintain, by just means always, the esteem which others give them. Everyone must be ready to turn praise away from herself and see that it goes instead to her sis-ters. Each one must wish to be first with the work in hand and the last to be praised. This is not a dit~icult thing when a person considers his own defects and the virtues of others; when he no longer judges or condemns the defects of others; when he leaves ~ll judgment to God to whom alone it belongs; when he puts into prac-tice the lesson which Jes.us Christ tau :ht with these words: "Do not judge and you will not be judged. In fact, exposing oneself to the danger of j, " " one's brethern is the same as doing tlztdging wrongly ¯Therefore, in order not to be in danger o~ em an injury. lnj"us ¯uce against them, one must abstain [croom mevitetrinyg d aen-finitive judgment which may harm them. tions as the answers occurred to me. I hope that, if you meditate and do all this, you ever more dear to God and assure for your mortal crown. Your most affectionate fat~ Filth Rule. We must never speak of th ings for which we can be praised-~even the world considers this wrong. Moreover, although we ought not to bl'ame ourselves without good motives, nevertheless we ought to strive to cover up our virtues as far as we can andI to speak con-temptuously of ourselves sometimes provided so with sincerity This i . ¯ ~ .we can do you are speaking with yo~u rp rsaislsteewrso orrm wy iethspl et~cmerlsloyn ws h"en wh.om you are friendly, provided, once mo~, that itwl~tahs a s~ncere foundation. My dear sisters in Christ, I have replied t.o your ques- ,n our Lord will become seives an lin-er in Christ, A.R. ÷ Three Questions VOLU~ ~:,, SISTER JEAN DE MILAN, S.G.C. Toward Greater Maturity ÷ ÷ Sister Jean de Mi-lan, S.G.C., teaches psychology at Rivier College; Nashua, New Hampshire. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 518 The compatibility of neurosis and religion has re-ceived considerable attention in the psychological litera-ture of the last. thirty years. It is argued that sanctity re-quires a certain integrity in the psychic order,1 that man's struggle for perfection is directly proportionate to his mental equilibrium.2 There is no doubt, then, as to the importance of mental health in religious life where men and women consecrate themselves to God by vows to practice the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Religious commit themselves to community living and they depend mostly on one another for the works of the community and for companionship. It takes only elemental charity to prompt one to look into the dynamics of a neurosis in search of the elements incom-patible with a religious life. It is now an accepted fact that without being diagnosed psychoneurotics everyone exhibits neurotic symptoms at irregular intervals. It will be the purpose of this paper to identify these neurotic traits and to suggest measures within the framework of a religious life which can help to attenuate if not to eradicate the troublesome symptoms. The paper will be developed along twelve characteris-tics listed by Schneiders as typical of neurotic person-alities: immaturity and sensitivity, self-centeredness, un-realistic ego ideal, rigidity and anxiety, isolation, ag-gression against self, mental conflict, lack of control, sug-gestibility, irresponsibility, lack of sense of humor, and emotional instability,s These traits can be found in many people including religious; it is only when they become x Jordan Aumann, "Can Neurotics Be Saints?" Cross and Crown, v. 5 (1953), pp. 458-59. s Robert Meskunas, "Sanity and Sanctity: An Inquiry into the Compatibility of Neurosis and Sanctity," Bulletin o] the Guild o] Catholic Psychiatrists, v. 7 (October, 1960), p. 248. s Alexander A. Schneiders, Personal Adjustment and Mental Health (New York: Rinehart, 1955), pp. 390-95. a consistent and persistent pattern that/one speaks of a neurotic personality. As a type of adjustment, it is in-adequate and it represents an meffioent and unwhole-some effort to meet the demands and rdsponsibilities of daily living. / 1. Immaturity,and Sensitivity The neurotics immaturity makes allI problems and frustrations loom large and menacing, IThis tendency, often paired with regression, connotes not only loss mature habits of behavior but a consequ~ent progressive inadequacy of response. The neurotic be.comes decreas-ingly able to meet the ordinary demands for social living and begins to withdraw from acuve part~opauon, m group acuwty. He does not master hfe ~ut expects life to look after him. He is unusually sensitive to comments concerning himself and cannot tolerate/any form criticism. His sensitivity makes the stresses~ and threats of reality almost unbearable¯ Religious life favors the cultivation of a/Christianper-sonality through the development of a perfect life---~ne exquisitely balanced, of noble service to ohe's neighbor, a life most happily modeled on Christ Hi~aself. In lead-ing to spiritual maturity, religious life de~aands of one constant and close personal contacts in theI common life which comprises factors capable of actualizing the po-tentialities of the individual. To be a constructive and mature power, the individual personality ]nust exercise itself through activity upon others. Religious who can be characterized by "immaturity and sensitivity" are likely to be living in a sElf-contained world. They have refused to walk through the doors swinging outward where the self can be ektended and actualized. 2. Self-Centeredness Neuroticism is characterized by a life which is, in some respects, self-centered. It is ~mmatunty s firs.t ally. The neurotic makes his ego the center of the universe; good is what is good for the ego, bad only what unpleasant to it. Menninger, a renowned psychiatrist, b~lieves that Christ Himself laid down one of the pnnople~s of mental health that is now recognized as of paramo,unt impor-tance. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all quoted Christ when they said: "For whosoever will save his life s~all lose it, but whosoever will lose his life for my sake will save it." What better can condense the attributes of a mature per-sonality? "Some men can love others enough~ to derive ¯ more satisfaction from that than from being lo~ved them-selves. It is still a magnificent precept. If you can follow VOLUME 22, 1963 ,519 it, you will never have to make a date with a psychia-trist." 4 Religious life, because of its theocentric plan, teaches a person to surmount his egocentricity. It also provides a basis for satisfactory interpersonal relations and cha:r-ity toward fellow men in the fatherhood of God instead of in changing human sentiments.5 The spirit of self-abnegation and self-denial is fundamental to the re-ligious life. Religious are called to share one mind, one heart, one life, one love in Christ. Their social service is motivated by the love of God in the neighbor. Self-love, then, tends to decrease as a function of one's love. for others. The paradox of a self-centered religious be-comes a serious indictment. + + + Sister Jean de Milan, S.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3. Unrealistic Ego Ideal The neurotic harbors an almost pathological ego ideal which prevents him from achieving a realistic attitude toward the issues and problems of daily life. His goal is a purely idealized and often artificial one. The ego ideal, the self one wants to become, may take the form of an ideal of personal conduct or it may be identified with certain desired accomplishments. The purpose of the ideal is to bring about identification with it in view of self-actualization. It emphasizes the forward movement or activity that is characteristic of living or-ganisms. The personal pattern of tendencies is projected into the future. This orientation toward future goals is commonly accepted by psychologists as a mark of matu-rity. Obviously, it reaches its highest perfection in re-ligion where man is oriented toward his ultimate goal.e Religion aims primarily at bringing persons closer to God, and by doing so it may secondarily promote their mental health. When a person believes that God assists him in a very personal way, life's perplexities and emo-tional crises become relatively unimportant. With such a clear-eyed notion of God, of His claims on the indi-vidual and His plans for him, the religious has a reliable and stable framework upon which to build a plan of life. Religion is the supreme moral virtue dominating his interior life and his relations to other human beings, and the religious view of life becomes the philosophy which dominates both thought and conduct.7 Such a man is strengthened by the sense of his own personal dignity. ' Schneiders, Personal Adjustment, p. 160. ~ James H. VanderVeldt and Robert P. Odenwald, Psychiatry and Catholicism (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1952), p. 185. e James E. Royce, Personality and Mental Health (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1955), p. 277. ~ Thomas Verner Moore, Personal Mental Hygiene (New York: Grune and Stratton, 1944), p. 236. A religious has only to gauge his serentty to evaluate himself on this trait. 4. Rigidity and Anxiety The neurotic's rigidity and anxiety d, not allow ~him to adapt to changing situations. Flexibility, suppleness, and malleability are the signs of life. I Rigidity, rigor mortis, is the sign of death. Such is the sta'te of the person who lacks malleability, whose personali~,y is excessively rigid'S Fear and anxiety, the very core of neurosis, are emo-tions which generally assume a rather egoistic character. It is well known and readily accepted thatldiffuasnexiety is reduced in the neurotic by the development of somatic symptomatology, exther phys~ogentc or psychogemc ~n nature. The physical symptoms then bdcome ways of structuring the anxiety¯ Anxiety may result from dejection flowing from one's inabilityto realize his ambitions; it maylbe due to in-jured vanity. There are surprisingly few neurotics' among people who are genuinely humble. Real Ihumil!ty is a prophylaxis against the anxieties one encounters ~n every day human interaction, for the truly huml~le person not only recognizes his own weaknesses and limperfections but he remains peaceful when his deficiencies are recog-nized by others also.9 One who has consecrated himself to God by religious vows is officially the spouse of Christ. Bu~ one can be officially the bride of Christ without having made in reality a complete sacrifice of himself in which his will is identified with and absorbed in the will of God, or without having attained to that psychologtcal state that St. John of the Cross designates as "spiritual ,matrimony." This state results in a cessation of all anxiety and a men-tal state of peace and delightA0 It is quitd remarkable how religious experiences tend to the moral perfectton of the one who has them. They give him a be~ter mode of adjustment in his relations to other humanl beings and a spiritualized conception of the nature of t~ials. 5. Isolation There is a certain amount of hostility in .he neurotic make-up coupled wtth tnabthty to get along w~th others. The psychoneurotm ts essenually a maladjusted personal- 8 Charles J. D. Corcoran, "Types Suited or Unsuited for Religious Vocation," Proceedings o] the Eighth Annual Convocation o[ the Vocation Institute (Notre Dame: Notre Dame Press, 1955), p. 33. 0 Raphael C. McCarthy, Sa]eguarding Mental Health! (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1937), p. 253. lOThomas Verner Moore, The Driving Forces o[ H~man Nature (New York: Grune and Stratton, 1948), pp. 421-22. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity VOLUME 22, 1963 521 4. Sister lean de Milan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ity and the victim of a bad system of mental habits. isolation results from a group of defense reactions, in-cluding primarily the fundamental biological reactions of defense and avoidance. The neurotic withdraws from his social group and becomes a nuisance even unto him-self. Man is a social being whose ultimate destiny is bound up with his observance of the great commandment dual charity. His perfection as a person is analogous to that of a seed which, to bear fruit, must grow outside of of itself. Religious growth in perfection can be measured in terms of one's serviceability to and influence on others. A life in the service of God and man, a wholehearted de-votion to the ideal of religious life, appears as the realiza-tion of our friendship with God. The profound feeling of loneliness and sense of isolation one experiences oc-casionally can be cured by a sincere trust in God, our friend. 6. Aggression Against Sell Neurotics are characterized by a great deal of petulance, annoyance with others, sensitivity to their at-titudes and behavior, readiness to quarrel and to find fault, and so on. Self-hatred as well as hatred of reality underlies both the spiritual and emotional disturbance. Aggression against self flows from conceited pride which has a twofold weakening effect: one of walling up its victim from reality and the other of making him super-sensitive to anything that might be construed to indicate a belittling attitude on the part of others,ix Running through all these neurotic ups and downs is a thread of chronic dissatisfaction and hopelessness which pre:;ents the eternal problem of "to be or not to be." The neurotic tries to evade the problem but no evasion is possible. He goes on unhappy and feeling offended and disregarded while it is within his power to modify, change, develop, and perfect his attitudes of mind, his emotional reac-tions, and the habits that fall under the competence of the will. It may call for the adoption of a new plan of life. Religious life, by having one strive towards the per-fection of a Christian personality, calls for a conscious development along the lines of private and social con-duct. Weekly confession is productive of a healthy ac-ceptance of one's shortcomings without introspective brooding. One is helped to come to a realistic acknowl-edgement of one's place, one's assets and liabilities, and one's dignity and dependence on God. Meditation is also a great promoter of insight. n James A. Magner, Personality and $uccessIul Living (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1945), p. 44. Mental Conflict Since it is the nature of conflict to pull the organism in different directions at the same time, deep-seated neurotic conflict is bound to disrupt the organization of personality. In the concept of. conflictI the conscience principle is of supreme importance; for it often happens that there is no real conflict between desire and its mere physical fulfillment, or between desire a~d one's sense of expediency, but that it is mainly and al~ove all between desire and the sense of duty. When impulse and fear are in conflict, the neurotic tries to resolve the conflict not by cont.trolling the im-pulse but instead by evasion and decep, uon. The fear results in behavior which seeks grauficauon while trying to keep punishment from occurring; thits strategy com-monly involves secrecy and falsehood. Th~ neurotic seeks to avoid social disapproval, but his conscle, nce hurts him. Attempts at repression may be unsuccessful and the in-dividual may resort to neurotic symptoms. Rehg~on, by reason of its experiences, behefs, and prac-uces, ~s eminently stated to the reducuon of damagxng conflict, feelings, and frustrations. It constantly reminds one of the intrinsic value and dignity of man, and of the fact that he is created to the image and likeness of God; there is no better way to offset the traumatic effects of in-feriority and the feeling of personal worthl~essness. There can be no more solid anchor than trust in! divine provi-dence and in the belief of His personal interest in each of His creatures. Conformity to the will of th~ all-wise God makes life's sorrows and fears bearable. Whlen a religious weakens under the burden of mental conflitcts, it will be wise for him to work out the debits and credits of his conduct in terms of self-will and will of G~d. 8. Lack of Control When the emotions are chronically ou~[ of control, some degree of neurosis exists. There is no neurosis with-out some evidence of failure in control an~t integrative functions. Integration presupposes wisdom ~in the intel-lect and character in the will--a scale of lvalues, self-knowledge, and habits of self-control. Most o,[ the neurot-ics are recruited among those whose will power is undeveloped. Stability amid the ups and downs of emotional moods is essential to both physical and mental heal~.h. Here the virtues of fortitude and temperance play their part. Re-ligion gives moral principles with a bac,king which makes them easier to hold onto when the going is hard. Meditation, a daily spiritual exercise for all religious, Moore, Mental Hygiene, p. 306. 4. Maturity VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ $i~tet lean d~ Milan, $.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 524 readjusts their thinking to a proper sense of values. Be-sides, one is not allowed to elude the dynamics of grace for any considerable time when one truly lives his re. ligious life. 9. Suggestibility Suggestibility is closely linked with emotional im-maturity and harmful dependency. The suggestible neu-rotic is controlled by an idea or by someone else rather than by himself. His want of self-confidence makes him dependent upon others so that he leans on their judg-ments and readily yields to suggestion. He is vacillating in his purposes, uncertain in his opinions, fearful of re-sponsibility, and reluctant to assume the initiative in any activity. Such feelings batter at a person's mental in-tegrity until it is weakened or destroyed.13 Suggestibility resembles "lack of control" inasmuch as it implies lack of integration. The greater one's erno-tional vulnerability, the greater will be the predisposition to neurotic reactions. No doubt the neurotic is happier with his neurosis than he would be without it in view of all the circumstances external and internal as he per-ceives them; however, he lacks the happiness of an inte-grated personality. What VanderVeldt said of religion can be said of re-ligious life: "The condition for the mental health value of religion is that people truly live their religion.TM Perhaps not all people who are supposed to be religious and become neurotic have made their religious convic-tions an integral part of their lives. 10. Irresponsibility Sense of responsibility is the realization that one has certain duties and obligations to fulfill and the deter-mination to fulfill them to the best of one's abilities. Sense of responsibility and the willingness to accept obli-gations are dependent to a great extent on maturity. The comparison is often made of a neurosis being a closed door that bars dyn~imic development for the neu-rotic. If the doors of the neurotic hell are locked from the inside, the psychotherapist can only help the patient find the key. This is not an easy task as the neurotic pa-tient clings to his symptoms even though he is disturbed by them and seeks psychiatric help. The neurosis is a way of life that is pleasant to the neurotic, especially when he is able to manipulate the environment to meet his selfish needs. The ability to assume responsibility is in large part a McCarthy, SaIeguarding Mental Health, p. 266. VanderVeldt and Odenwald. Psychiatry and Catholicism, p. 193. matter of moral courage¯ One who has honest religious convicuons feels obhged to do something worthwhile for God and for man. He turns aside from the unwholesome pursuit of selfish pleasures. Religious Iprinciples direct his mind to the purpose of life, and in/so doing they do not deprive him of pleasure but' give it i~ abundance and permanence as he attains the great purp, ose of life in the service of God and man. If he has adopted the religious ideal with enthusiasm, then it become~ a powerful in-hibitory force against the development of unwholesome mental conditions.15 11. Lack ol Sense of Humor A good sense of humor is one of the c iteria of mental health and adjustment. It is not found in the neurotic whose life is humorless, a drab affair d~ minated by ill-ness, conflict, frustration, dissatisfaction, ~and discourage-ment. Humor is based on the perception of incongruities; it is a feeling of surprise, the joyous shock Iof discovery in our appreciation of life's incongruities. To find these con-trasts we must be self-detached,.account ourselves of little ¯ importance, look outwards and not rewards, feel drawn to people and to th~ngs ~n thanksgxwng; for humor ~s the reward o1: a wxll-to-commumty. "Wlll-to-cornmumty ~s not to be understood as a fixed determ~nauon to hve with the community but rather the will td live in a com-munity as a grateful member of a crowd,°r group. Hu-mor should be the natural endowment oflall thowsheo seek to live in religion. The test of a true sense of humor is the capacity to laugh with others at one's self; but that i~ not all. One must discover the reason for such laughter. One must learn to discover in the laughter of others s~omething like a comphment. True humor ~s akin to brotlierly love and sympathy; ~t brads us closer together and relaxes all un- ! due tensions. There is nothing so effecuve in checking the ingrowing pains of pride as a sense of h~umor. People who take themselves too seriously need the ~antidote of a good laugh to reduce values to their true llevel and to declare a permanent moratorium on manyI of their pet grievances and frustrated ambitions.17 A sense of humor combats anxiety, which is a blight on the ~ehg~ous life, by exercising the mind in a way which develops a living, vibrant suppleness. Cheerfulness is the siga which ac-companies sacrifices made out of true love, the love of God. Gloom and sadness are the signs of s~lcrifice made ~ Moore, Mental Hygiene, pp. 244-45. xo Ferdinand Valentine, The Apostolate o[ Chastity (Westminster: Newman, 1954), p. 15. x7 Magner, Personality and Success]ul Living, p. 48. ÷ Maturity VOLUME 22~ 1963 out of self-love, out of vainglory. A" sense of humor enables one to behd without breaking under the weight: of the cross, to see the proportion between the suffering,; of this life and the glory of the next, and to see oneself in the humble relationship of creature to Creator. 12. Emotional Instability Emotional instability is a dominant feature of the neurotic personality and a primary determinant of the neurotic's difficulties. Along with his emotional change-ability and high general emotionality, he exhibits be-havior that is characteristic of a spoiled child. There is an intimate connection between mental and moral health. Wholesome effective living and mental stability require an adequate scale of values, or philos-ophy of life, and a set of worthwhile attitudes and habits. These qualities can be provided more efficaciously and more abundantly by religion than anything else in one's life. Only moral virtue can give a healthy, integrated personality. The virtues moderate one's emotions and temperament, bringing them into balance. A virtuous life will result in unity and integration of personality. Summary and Conclusion Religious are not immune to neurotic behavior; at one time or another, a religious is likely to exhibit neu-rotic traits. But by its very nature, the religious life can help one counteract the possible neurotic tendencies. A brief discussion of the positive contributions of religious life to mental health was introduced with the discussion of each neurotic trait. The religious man or woman of humble faith in God, of daily prayer and consultation with God, of devotion to his or her religious duties as God has given light to see them has the assurance of a full perspective on life, health of mind, peace of soul, and a view of time in the light of eternity,is ~s James A. Magner, Mental Health in a Mad World (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1953), p. 298. 4. Sister Jean de Milan, S.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 526 ROBERT j. KRUSE, C.S.C. Au in Religio 'From a supernatural point of view, th, exercise of re-ligious authority and the practice of ehg~ous obedience are meaningful only when conceived as~ participations in the authority and in the obedience of Christ our Lord. eAd::a°~n:r~ ~Vreo~tern~p. t to understand authority and obedi- . ~ a ~nrist-centered way of ~ife, we become gud~ of gloss misunderstanding In such }a situ . - gardless ot the reasonableness "a n d t h et ingenudittlyO oIlf~ oreu-r solutions to the problems which religiouslauthority and religious obedience pose, such solutions remain void of genuine supernatural worth. In discussing authority and obedience, therefore, our first and constant care must be to associate them with our life in Christ. ~therwise our discussion will remain purely human and natural and a ~. consequence sterile Attempts ,~ ~-~ - ~-,. ¯ s. hfe~as ~,s Christian a"nd relig~io tu~s x lcifaett~ ~m Uu~lvt lbnee wanaal~zffd in divine terms. To confront supernatural reality with purely natural reflections betokens a wand of reverence ~r~he g~dly way of life with which we ~re ~a . ~st our Lord. ~ ceu ~n In this article we will speak of authority in the r - ligious life. In a subsequent article we will ~er some r~ flections on religious obedience. Of the t~o topics the latter is the more all,cult. Both are intimately connected. Afith~rity and obedience are relative terms so that what-ever ,s said o~ the one necessarily contains implications for the other. In our discussion of authority ~e ~ill group our considerations about three focal poiqts: first, re-ligious authority and the mystery o[ the ~ncarnation; second, religious authority and the imitation of Christ our Lord; and third, religious authority and] the mystery o~ the Redemption. Divine life flows to the souI through many channels. Ultimately, however, all of those channels drink at a sole spring and that spring is Christ. It is He who gives ÷ ÷ Robert J. Kruse, C.S.C;, is a faculty member ot? Holy Cross Fathers Semi-nary; North Easton, Massachusetts. VOLUME 22, 1965 Robert CK,~.Ce., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 528 to the soul living water, "a fountain of water, springing up unto life everlasting" (Jn 4:14). What is it that the Christian and that the religious seeks? He seeks a share in the life of God. For without a share in the life of the eternal God, man is deprived of all eternal significance. Unless a man looks outside of himself to a higher order, to the transcendent order, to God, in search of an ex-planation for his own existence, unless a man looks be-yond self to Another for the fulfillment of his own noblest hopes, he remains imprisoned without hope in the finite, in the created, in the temporal order--with no more persona/significance than that of any other transi-tory phenomenon. Ultimately, all religious questions re-duce themselves to this sole question: the nature of man's relationship to God, the possibility of man's sharing in the life of God. For apart from such a possibility man becomes merely a moment in time. And self is incapable, totally incompetent to satisfy its own profoundest aspira-tions. So that man seeks a way out of the maze of human, created, and limited reality, finite love, imperfect good-ness and truth, a way which will lead him to the enjoy-ment eternally of unlimited reality, infinite love, perfect truth. That way is Christ. Christ is the sole way. There is no other way. Among all communications of divine life, none re-motely approaches that enjoyed by the holy humanity of Christ our Lord. For in all truth the human intellect, the human will, and the human body of our Savior are the intellect, will, and body of a divine person. No created being save the holy humanity of Christ, that hu-manity f.ull of grace and of truth, enjoys this personal union with God. Truly in the womb of the Virgin Mary are celebrated the nuptials of God and of man. In the mystery of the Incarnation, we witness the wedding of the divine and the human in the person of the Word made flesh. And in virtue of His holy humanity, the Son may be said to render perfect obedience to His Father and our Father. "Therefore in coming into the world, he says., a body thou hast fitted to me .B.ehold, I come., to do thy will, O God" (Heb 10:5-7). It is indeed significant that because of His obedience our Savior is glorified and exalted. "Appearing in the form of man, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even to death on a cross. Therefore God also has exalted him" (Phil 2:7-9). It is equally significant that because of His obedience our Savior lays claim to His Mystical Body, the Church, and wins authority over that Body. "Christ is head of the Church, being himself savior of the body," so that, "the Church is subject to Christ" (Eph 5:23-24). God has made all things "subject under hwihsi cfhe eint,d eaendd i sh hiims b hodey ""a (vEepn hea a2so: 2 'o2-v--e2 r-~ ,a) . r/t t,h, e_ C h u r c h., indeed would onlyY g uruhdrigsitn. gOlyn athssee ontth teor lhthaen dw, imll aon y." sup.eriors. The obvious explanatiofi is a~t hand: ~h:uir. Perxor" ,s not Chtr. iIsn d e e d , t h e s u p e./rior ma n be conspicuously Christlike T~;o ~.2, .y ot. even. course, irrelevant. For the. s.u. p,~er-i~olras naauttlhoonr iat s", .ot authority of Christ even if tbo . ¯ ,~ - y as the --- ~uperaor § conauct is far t~oro gmr ~asnpr itshtlei kper.o Tfohuen rdo osti gonf itfhicea pnrcoeb olefm.~/tihiees I innc aa rfnaailtuioren. God has willed to use human channels fo~" the communi-cation of divine life. First and foremost, t~e holy human-ity of the Word Incarnate. That humani,ty is, of course, "tried as we are in all things except sin" ~Heb 4:15). But in His Mystical Body the Incarnation ~1of the eternal Word is extended through all the centuries of man's pilgrimage in exile. And to His Body C~rist has com-municated His authority. In the Church~.~which is the prolongation through history of the mystery of th c,.,arn.auo.n--davme life is communicated ;,,! ,.~" .~__ t, oa. lhe Church can do this only becaus~ Christ is her Head; and in Christ human nature has lald claim on the divine, on the life of God. So that in th~ Church, the Body of Christ, the perfection and humanity receives truly divine gifts, fduilflfneess of Chri.~t's There is, of course, this crucial our Savior's fence between is --' r-. ,., r~.er ~s holy, perfectly sinl,~ss; the latter str~lYesP:~t~ut~iYn "fer~n'wnghi21.y. In the lmeantime it ~vL~.rot~uide of the holiness of its Hena ~dt. sBeuetk ws rite.~h:daelm Cphtriiosnt oin r - h.as c,o,.mmumcate.d to His Mystical B.bdy a arti~i- ~m,~e, ~sni.n ~f.un ltnaless osw on[ a tuhttaato Mrit"ys, tai c~aa]r-t i_cri, ~.,.;.~ i ~soay cann~o, ~t msucbnv eevretn. t~r,~a, ~,~,,.e~ m_t_ynstee.rry l nofta t}hlie. bIlnec naronra itmm.np ercecmabalien si m~ plliivciirt~lyg aty today and everyday. Such religious are ~unwilling to admit that divine life can be communicated to them through human channels---channels ¯ frailties which the very term "humans"u ibmjepclite tso. Talhlu tsh ien our treatment of authority, perhaps our basic need is to emphasize more the "humanness" of it~that it is the ex- ÷ tension and continuation of the mystery of ~he Incarna-tion, the m)stery of God's making His own a human ÷ nature in order thereby to redeem human nature. y our Loro resid " ~mperfect and sinful human bein¢~. . I , ~ an --~, we mUSt also alIlrm ~ut~i~y VOLUME 22t 1963 5,?,9 4" 4" Robert Kru~e, C£.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 53O that it is a duty incumbent upon those in authority to become increasingly perfect and sinless. In this effort those in authority have a sure guide: our Lord's exercise of authority. We have here a question not of what author-ity might be but of what authority must be. That is to say, there is an obligation for those in authority to ad-minister their trust in a Christlike manner. It is not, therefore, a question of some vague, elusive ideal but rather a question of serious moral obligation. Of cour:;e, as in every creaturely .undertaking, perfection is never totally realized. That does not, however, render its quest any less imperative. What, in more concrete .terms, does the Christlike exercise of authority involve? Fundamental, it seems to us, is the sense of service. "But Jesus called them (the apostles) to him and said, 'You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. Not so is it .among you. On the contrary, whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant; and whoever wishes to be first among you, shall be your slave; even as the Son of Man has not come to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many' " (Mt 20:25-28). In the last analysis it is the functidn of those in authority in the religious life to contribute by their direction to "building up the Body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the deep knowledge of the Son of God, to perfect manhood, to the mature measure of the fullness of Christ" (Eph 4:12--13). Religious authority, then, stands in service of Christ's Mystical Body. The superior must never forget that his commands are addressed to a subject in whom the Spirit of Christ dwells. Let those commands never grieve that Spirit. Authority's commands must come from Christ: and be directed to Christ. That is, the superior must speak words which are sensitive to the Spirit of Christ within himself--words which the Spirit of Christ within the subject recognizes as springing from a kindred Spirit. It is the same Christ who both commands and obeys. Con-siderations of a purely human kind, attitudes which re-flect a purely natural assessment of the nature of author-ity-- these are entirely out of place and constitute a degradation of religious authority. Fundamentally, the superior's role is to act as an instrument for the more per-fect rule of the Spirit of Christ over the hearts and over the conduct of those vowed to religious obedience. In the fulfillment of this role, external trappings de-signed to enhance authority's position are of dubious value. One of the most gifted theoIogians in the Church today writes in connection with this point: In the life of the cloister there are still to be found age-old rituals governing the etiquette of superiors, involving demands of respect from subjects, secretiveness, ma ifestations of su-periority, appeals of superiors to a hi her wi ¯ 5°.? escens,o etc. All hould m' ,hs?lay . or w.Juter away. ~UDerlors s .,~a o ~ ~ permitted to me worm aroudd ,~.~ cast a long ~nd quiet lance at fluential, who re~e~'L~ff?c, . w~o ~re truly ]powerfu~ and in- ¯ ~ a ~reat ~ea/ ot unquestioning obedience pompous front. Superiors should oyu, inetflly i andsmeciut trhitayt ibne cheirntadi na Circumstances their subjecu know ~ore than ' matter at hand? ~ey do about displays of condescension "ro~w st o:- these ourel x , . y e 3ernal competence of the superi8or m proDort~on to ¯ . The truly l~r--- the ~n recognizes spontaneously the 7 ~ cat superior speaking, of all these trappings.i nInsi gthniisf ircea~nacred, ist pisir situuraelllyy salutary to read and meditate upon our Eord's r " . sh~p w~th H~s apostles. Nowhere in the ,ospelse~a~'°~e find our Lord making a fuss over SUch trivia, "You me Master and Lord, and you say well, fqr so call therefore, I the Lord and Master have wasOed yIo aumr f~e eIft,, you also ought to wash the feet of one a,nother. ~i~ ~u ]~ ~x~le, that as I hav~ done t~J ~ ~ ~noum oo (in 13:13-15). Regarding the matter of superiors' see~I i'ng coun~s e' l, some reflections are in order. Today, perha~ps more than at any time in the past, given 'the comolekit o tieth-cent . t Y f twen- . ury apostohc activity, it ~s'urgent ~hat superiors tsheeek i nadspviicrae.t iHonolsy o Mf oththee Hr tohle. ,C ch~ur:c_h:, .e v e ~ .s-e ~ns .i t~"ve to necessity in th~ ~-:-~'o- u s y r ~uVle-s- tw~,h picrohw sohees dd oto~tr tohvise ~ve ~rv 5nao-tt -t.hueg amd- vo¯rice es eorniol ubsu -ot uestions t-h.~ ~,k,u .~. .~ o tfLter n r~e" ulres y the consent of councId.ors asq well. Superiors should gladly reco~ize the Chu ~ch's w" -~d-~ta_g ~ersd taoi nojne gg aai~nde dw firlolimng sleye akvina~il ctohue-m~s :e1l~v,e_s7 o.~'-t~sff~ any reason w ,, the., .k_. ,. ,o . ,,o~,. l~or is there sistance and ehn~l i,g~hyt e~n-mouelnat ctoo nthnonsee t /o~eciria sl~l,a arpcpho fionrt eads-for this task. To put the matter very frankl ~: the Holy Spirit is perfectly capable of inspiring eact and every religious in a community with both a supern ttural view-point and useful practical suggestions re. arding the apostolic work entrusted to the communit, blu.n gtin the s " ' . , Far from + we!gh carefullyu tbhjee cstusp mernmaatut~ravl em, ethrieto s u- e~-'m--r sh,ou!d courage the religious to appropriate ~aoc otit oa n~ wtophoesnal ,p eon-s-sible, and in every case welcome the subject's interest and enthusiasm. It is false to suppose that ;vorthwhile l0 t0 K9~ar0l )R, aph,n 3e~r,4 S. .J . , " R e f l e c t i o n s o n O b c, dience," Crc Currents v. Authority VOLUM~ 22, 1963 Robert K~,r~u.~se,., REVIEW FOR REL)GIOUS ideas can emanate exclusively from those in authority. Such an attitude is an affront to the Holy Spirit. Related to the matter of seeking counsel is the matter of openness. Some superiors, regrettably, are excessively secretive even regarding insignificant daily directives. Many of their undertakings are shrouded with an aura.of mystery. The real mystery is what advantage they think derives from such a procedure. It is small wonder that subjects fail to display much enthusiasm for the su-perior's proposals when they are rarely invited to share in the superior's confidence. We would recommend to such superiors prayerful reflection on the words of our Lord spoken in the intimacy of the Last Supper. "No longer do I call you servants, because the servant does not know what his master does. But I have called you friends, because all things that I have heard from my Father I have made.known to you" On 15:15). What a contrast between the conduct of our Lord towards iHis apostles and the conduct of some superiors towards their religious. In this connection it is most helpful for supe-riors to cultivate within their communities a family spirit and that holy familiarity which the term "family" suggests. Nothing is to be gained by remaining aloof and distant. How can one who is aloof and distant touch and quicken the hearts of his subjects with the Spirit.of Christ? We might consider many other practical questions re-garding the Christlike exercise of authority. More im-portant, though, than coming to grips with parti(:ular problems is grasping the ideal which will serve as a guide for the resolution of every problem. That ideal is at once easy to understand and difficult to practice. What would our Lord do if He were in my place? How would He handle this problem? How would He win to Himself this person? To be a good superior demands intimate knowl-edge of our Lord and constant docility to the inspirations of His Spirit. Finally, some comments regarding authority and the mystery of the Redemption. The religious life, as all Christian life, is at the same time both incarnational and eschatological in character. It looks beyond the temporal order to the creation of new hea,~ens and a new earth. Indeed, the mystery of the Incarnation is itself the prin-ciple of this transformation. God makes Himself a sharer in our humanity only that we in turn might: share in His divinity. And ultimately our divinization will be accomplished solely by our personal sharing in the mys-tery of the Redemption. We must make our own the mys-tery of Christ's passover from death to life. With Christ, the great wayfarer, we journey each day through ter-restrial exile and affliction to our celestial dwelling and resurrection. "Wherefore we do not los! heart. On the contrary, even though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by d~y. For our pres-ent light affliction, which is for the moment, prepares for us an eternal weight of glory that is beyond all measure (2 Cor 4:16-17). Every Christian in the fulfillment of h, is vocation en-counters the cross of Christ. Justly does Saint Paul declare that we are ' always beanng about ~n our Ibody the dying of Jesus, so that the life also of Jesus maylbe made mani-fest in our bodily frame" (2 Cor 4:10). Certainly the re-hg~ ous superior ~s no exception to th~s rule. The exercise of authority is a cross. The superior shoul~l willingly em-brace that cross recognizing that only by Isharing in the mystery of the cross is self-love subject to passion and to death and the love of God to renewal and ~o resurrection. "This saying is true: If we have died withI him, we shall also live with him; if we endure, we shall rilso reign with him" (2 Tim 2:11-12). To exercise authority with anxious care is the supe-riot's cross. It requires no small self-sacnfic,e. On the con-trary, thanks to the constant demands of all kinds made ¯ upon his time, his energies, and his interest, the superior is truly "poured out in sacrifice" (2 Tim 4:8). A continu-ing death to self-love attends the wgflant superior s com-mitment to his holy trust. In this context welmust address ourselves to one problem in particular--a problem which occasions the deepest suffering for the conscientious su-perior. Stated in the broadest possible term~s, that prob-lem is one simply of remaining faithful t~o the super-natural order m the face of the pressures wli~ch a purely natural wewpo~nt bnngs to bear on rehgmus hfe and the apostolate. How many superiors are d~str, essed by the disintegration of spiritual values with which they are periodically confronted? How are they to res~pond to this challenge? Doubtless, the question is a vexifi~.g one. In such cases what is clear is that the super!or must re-main faithful to supernatural values. Spec~ous as the temptation to compromise may be, such compromise un-dermines. the very structure of religious life. S~metimes it may appear that only by making concessions to man's innate self-indulgence can harmony be maintained. Are not such concessions a mistake? Has not our ILord Him-self declared: "Do not think that I have come to send peace upon the earth; I have come to bring alsword, not peace., and a man's enemies will be those of his own household" (Mr 10:34-36). Obviously we are not sug-gesung that the superior pounce upon every trifling de-parture from regular &sc~phne. Shortcomings of this kind are usually nothing more than manifestations of our common frailty in persons of genuine goo~,d will. To ÷ ÷ ÷ Authority VOLUME 22, 1963 533 ÷ Robert Krt~e, .S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 534 tax the subject's good will over every peccadillo is hardly a Christlike manner of exercising authority. The situ;t-tion we envisage is far different. We have in mind the case of the religious who deliberately and systematically by his actions and attitudes exhibits practical contempt for the religious life. Cost what it may the superior mtlst courageously resist such a betrayal of religious values. To permit flagrant disregard for the supernatural order to go unchecked is intolerable. It proves demoralizing for those religious honestly striving to fulfill their vows and scan-dalizing for the faithful who almost inevitably become acquainted with such a state of affairs. Certainly in all such cases those in authority must dis-play arl exquisite kindness and sympathy, tempering the rmness of their decisions with tangible benevolence, t,ut I firm tliey must be--for the sake of the religious life it-self. Let St. Paul's exercise of authority be their model: "For though we walk in the flesh, we do not make war according to the flesh; for the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but powerful before God to the demolishing of strongholds, the destroying of reasonings--yes, of every lofty thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every mind into captivity to the .obedience of Christ" (2 Cor 10:3-6). Surely no cross burdens the zeal-ous superior with more anguish than the recalcitrant subject. It taxes both his prudence and his courage to the utmost. Only let him recognize in tiffs cross an instrument for his personal sanctification. For the realization of God's will let him sacrifice his own popularity. To act with firmness and decision seems temperamentally almost impossible for many superiors. Nevertheless, their voca-tion demands just such firmness. In their weakness let them surrender to the Spirit of Christ their Lord, the Spirit of fortitude, who has been poured forth in their hearts. By so doing they will purify their own souls and will contribute significantly to the sanctification of their subjects. For their course of action is self-crucifying and so redeeming. Regarding positive steps to be taken in such situations, it is extremely difficult to generalize. Two suggestions come to mind which may prove of some utility. First, when dealing with such cases it would seem particularly desirable for the superior to work in close harmony with his councilors. Such collaboration contributes signifi-cantly to an objective evaluation of the problem at hand, minimizing the danger of the superior's being prompted by merely human considerations in his analysis of the situation. In addition, one or another councilor may be in a much more advantageous position to cope with the problem than the superior himself. Second, it would seem a duty incumbent upon the superior to neutralize and even to turn to the spiritual advantage of the corn .any d!sedification or scandal ar;~;n~ t_AJ_ ,mun"l.ty ject's behavior Cann~, -~-- .o,,:~ ~,ul~ an unruly sun- ,,L L.c superior exploit this oppor- ~t~rn2~aYn~n~?Cf~lrC~etaer:nnce~hn:ne~ elli:k,gelo,u as s~ ;wttiteuldle sa osf tuon- encourage prayer and sacrifice 'both for dheir delino confrere and for their own . : ¯ v,--o~vc,ance ~n noeiity. This ~uh~ULnb7 odn°noe;~of_ co,urse: ,m. a spirit of h~mility. Passinl~ tiit-~rS snoulo. I~e SCFU U ' " violatioofn - - . e rChh ri.s.t.h. kpe sIpoiruit swlhyi cahv ~ohoiduled dan aimsa ate ! the entire community. Rather, a sense of cornorate re-sponsibility and an awareness of man's Inborn weakness should be developed. In some such anner as this can the superior offset the harm done y th problem reli-b ! gtous in his community. In this article we have attempted to relate the exercise of religious authorit,, to the fun-'- our faith¯ the Incar~nation a--~ -u~a-m- e,~n t-a tt m. ysteries ot ¯ .tt ttte l~eclemDtlon A from such a vision of .~-^-: . t : 2 part dn~,.~.~u ,.~.,. ,~.~. . -,,~:,~,tLty mere e, XlStS tlae real ,at purely natural attitudes will invade our minds and shape our thinking along lihes devoid supernatural dimensio¯ns Such in~r,,o:~-- l_ . - of dured. That is why, practically "s -n~e,a~k,-isn c,~an .nt.o_t _o e, en- ,- ~,,I t,e sole tr .bmee Cashurrt.set s0 ,of wthne eCxherirsctiisaen oe¯xf eirtc ~ioo^,~-- u^-t', -a.".u.[ni o, r¯ltv can onu.e devoted some attention to ¯ xoi tHIS reason we also ¯ authori"ty and ~th e ~¯m~¯ tation of Christ. In closing, we would recommend to all who seek more knowled,,e on the su~-:- - -- ,~ d- ivine Lord¯ For l~ove of Him iosj cbcotr nm oatf t~,~kenyo wstuleadyg oeu orf Him,. and out of love shall grow likeness. And ultimate that ~s all Christian authority needs: to be ~hristlike. ly + + ÷ Authority VOLUME 22~ 196~ BROTHER PHILIP HARRIS, O.S.F. The Parent's Role in Guidance 4. Brother Philip Harris, O.S.F., is the vice president of development of St. Francis College; Brooklyn, New York. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS One area of formal guidance1 in the schools today which has been most neglected but which holds the great-est promise for the future is parent guidance. Although extensive training is now provided for a profession or an occupation, little assistance is offered to the newly-mar-ried couple facing one of the most challenging human responsibilities--the rearing and education of children. The average parents want to do a good job of raising their offspring as useful citizens. But they need the~ as-sistance of educators who are willing to share the fruit of their own special knowledge and experience. Such a partnership with parents can be a.great aid to the over-burdened and under-staffed guidance department as it seeks to help a maximum number of youth in adjusting to a confusing and complex twentieth-century world. By right, and in fact, the parent is the child's principal counselor. Jusot as parents have the primary duty to edu-cate their children, so they have the basic obligation of providing sound guidance to them. Any guidance en-deavors of the school should be based on this premise, for educators only supplement the counsel given to students by their parents. The influence of parents on a child's life decisions is formidable. It is the task of the school also to aid the parent so that the young person makes the correct decisions and attains optimum personal development. It is understandable that in this age of rapid techno-logical changes, vocational opportunity, and personal challenge parents would look to the guidance specialist to help them discover, develop, and direct all of the God-given potentialities of the child. The theme of this con-ference is "The Adjustment of Young People to a World in Accelerated Technical and Economic Evolution." Par-ents possess the opportunity to assist today's youth to be- 1 This is the text of a paper delivered to the International Con-ference on School and Vocational Guidance, Paris, July 16-22, 1962. come tomorrow's successful adults. Ho!ever, the faculty in general and the guidance worker in[particular must help parents to understand the child of tl~ television and the space age, to project themselves into the future so as to determine educational and vocational possibilities for their children in the decades ahead, to appreciate the school and the guidance department's objectives and practices, to utilize good principles of met tal hygiene and right living in their families. Such a plan for cooperative and compiementary child formation by parents and educators must be~in with the pre-school youngster and continue throul~h ~aigher stud-ies. How to accomplish this will be the Isubject of this paper. Before examining the methods for peiping parents to fulfill their natural role as guides, it is ~seful to realize the advantages of such emphasis through t ae student per. sonnel services of the school. Values o[ Parent Guidance A parental guidance program strengthms a schooI's guidance efforts in the following ways: l) Teachers are limited in the amoun~ of time and energy they can devote to helping pupils so~ve their prob-lems and meet life's challenges. Trained counselors, even on the high school level, are few in nurhber and can guide only a fraction of the student bod~. Any sound guidance practices, therefore, that parents can utilize with their offspring will lessen the educator's load and permit school counselors to do more effectiv~ worL 2) Prevention of more serious problems ~hould be the aim of .any. paren.tal gu¯idance effort. If p~rents can be alerted to signs ot emotional disturbances, .to the effects of broken homes or rejection, to their children,s needs especially psychological), to the acceptance Iof their chil- ~tgi~srd.less ,of speci.a.1 talent or limitation~, then many 3) Througinh stchheoiro cl ownitlalc bt ew riethd upcaerden otsr ,a evdouicdaetdo.rs may gain insight into the family background ofttheir pupils and are better able to understand each child! 4) Parents gain a greater appreciation of]the school's program and the teacher's efforts. As a resuh, they may give increased support to school activities, fcr they truly appreciate every endeavor made for their chil ~l's improve-ment. Some of the means for translating these calues into realities through the school's guidance effor follow: Parent Clubs Teachers are familiar with various home-sc/~ ol groups, such as the Parent Teacher Association and Fathers' or Mothers' Guild approach. Such or~anization~. o ]. however, ÷ ÷ ~Pmarde Gntusidance VOLUME 22, 1963 4" 4" 4" Phili~ HaOr.Sr.iFs,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS should have a two-way effect. The parents may raise funds for special school projects and assist in other ways; the school should provide, in turn, programs that help the members do a better job in their role as parents. Par-ents with exceptional training and skills may be willilxg to aid pupils and other parents with special knowledge and experience. For example, speakers for a career day can be recruited from a parents' guild; or parents who are doctors, nurses, or psychologists, can be called upon to address the parent group. Volunteer workers of all types from among the pupils' parents may offer free service to the school. A well-functioning parent club can be a deterrent to juvenile delinquency and offer good leisure time activ-ities for both parents and children. It not only will bring the school and home into closer cooperation but also may promote greater harmony and understanding between parent and child. Parent Forums Any aspect of child development or improvement serves as a good topic for a parent forum. It is best ithat parents be invited together who represent children of distinct grade or age levels, such as the upper, middle, or primary grades, or the pre-adolescent or adolescent pe-riod. Thus, there will be some common meeting ground for discussion. The student's intellectual, vocational, so-cial, or moral development can serve as the basis for a number of group conferences. This type of affair can be conducted in various ways. One is to have a guest or faculty speaker whose address is followed by questions from the floor. Another procedure brings in a specialist whose talk is discussed by a panel of parents with a faculty member as moderator. Parents of the graduating or senior class often profit from an educational forum to which representatives of high schools (or colleges) which the graduates will likely attend are invited for individual questioning or group discussion. These general meetings of parents are most effective when they do not take more than two hours for the total program. They may be preceded by some type of audio-visual aid while the assembly hall is slowly filling up. Sometimes films on adolescence or family mental hygiene may be projected and then followed by a discussion led by one of the faculty. Usually parent forums are held in the evening, but a week end or holiday afternoon may prove appropriate. Refreshments served after such events help teachers to meet the parents in a relaxed, social atmosphere. Parent Group Conferences These conferences are small group me~etings of parents and a teacher. If a guidance counselor or~ school l~sychol-ogist is available, these conferences may be arranged with him. These group interviews run'from ~fteen to twenty ~tin.utes and ,gi.ve the parents an. opport,~nity to present ae~r parental ~mpressions and experiences and to hear the educator's evaluation of their child. ~uch interviews have great potential for "preventive" ~ ¯ cational, vocational, or social areas. Tclo{uen tseechhn~n iinq ueed uis, most effecti.ve when these conferences a~e arranged parents a common problem, rot ex!mple, ents of students failing the sam~ two school subjects or the parents of pupils who are truant or.l.the parents of students who are withdrawn and antisocial or the parents of "exceptional" children--such natural groupings will permit the process of multiple counselin~ to take place. The teache~-counselor must prepare for ~he conferences by studying the family background anbdeI t¯horoughly fwahmosilei apra rwenitths mthaek ec uump tuhlea tgirvoeu pre. cords of the studbnts ,u. oSno motm tet~ i.sn p.terorecsetidnugr ree sbeya rPcrho hfaess sboeresn Sreapwo r~tnedd Mona ah vlearr iaa-t Chico State College in the United States. Their gr0ut~ counseling approach included botfi parents and student~. It centered a~0und underachieving pupils and involved a series of eight sessions where freedom of e~xpression was uppermost. First, students were asked to sit in a circle of six with a counselor, while the parents Isat off to the side as observers. Then, after personal introductions stu-dents were asked to express their feelings a~s to why ,they were ,u.nderach.ieving. The sessions were structured aproos.tut~.moan sK weye rteo ps,w cist cohre qdu, ewstiitohn tsh. eA pfaterre nthtsir itn3 ~th mei ncuirtcesle the and the youth as observers. Prior to such meetings~, it is helpful if both parents and students fill out an inventory of their attitudes toward each other and sc[ ool. Gradually, parent and offspring will gain insight into their own personal relationships and uriders~ anding as to why the child is not obtaining better grade.,. A plan for improvement can be developed, and a gap of time be-tween the fifth and the last two sessions will )ermit them to try out these ideas in practice. Then, th~ final guid-ance periods can be devoted to reports of success or fail-ure as well as a realistic review with implications for the future. The initial results of this technique i adicate that such family counseling can become a useful part of the school guidance program. Parents and Guidance + + ÷ Philip Harris, O .S.F. REVIEW FOR REL]G|OUS 540 Individual Parent Guidance Teachers and administrators have long met with par-ents on an individual basis to discuss their mutual con.- cern--the student. Frequently, such meetings were con-cerned with an analysis of the pupil's problems, abilitiet~, potential, and plans. However, this old technique can be made more effective by the use of some modern ap-proaches. For example, with the student's permission, his autobiography, anecdotal records, test results and ventories may be interpreted and discussed with parents. Another useful procedure is role-playing--the teacher switching to the role of the parent or the child and pos-sibly the parent switching to the role of the student. Or, the youth may be invited to attend the session to explain his feelings or position, or to "role-play" his parents. Parent Bulletins and Reports In addition to the written reports commonly given to parents by schools, bulletins which interpret standard-ized test results may be prepared to help parents gain greater insight into their child's abilities, aptitudes, and interests. A newsletter can be issued by the guidance de-partment, principal, or parent organization on: com-munity guidance and psychological resources; suggested means of helping a child with specific physical, psycho-logical, or social problems; a bibliography of free or in-expensive publications useful in the guidance of youth, of use to parents; scholarship or student aid opportuni-ties; entrance requirements of local institutions of higher education; projects for family group recreation; adoles-cent needs and conflicts; and principles of good human relations in the home. In working with modern parents, it is wise to consider the changes that have taken place in parental attitudes toward education and their goals as parents. The Chang-ing American Parent by Daniel R. Miller and Guy E. Swanson (New York: Wiley, 1959) is but one example of published reports that provide much light on the sub-ject. Many guidance books for teachers contain a chapter or two on working with parents. A recent volume, for example, Guidance in the Elementary Classroom by Gerald and Norma Kowitz (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1959) devotes the last chapter to "Counseling with Par-ents." Another recommended work is Adlerian Family Counseling edited by Dreikurs-Corsini-Lowe-Sonstegard (University of Oregon Press). The school's attempt to aid the parents to fulfill their God-given responsibilities as guides to their own children will undoubtedly prove fruitful in the good accomplished attaining the objectives of the school guidance service, in saving on teacher time and energy, and in the, good public relations thus promoted. SISTER TERESA MARY, C.S.CI Religious 0 ce and Critical Thinking It is often said that we are living in a critical t.he people of the present tim . L . a.ge,. T, hat mose of the ,~, o,~L- _, ~- ,~-,: naor,e critical t~aa consc.musne~s s. .o.f. t~h,e,, ~co, mat pteIeaxstl tmy opfa rtth, efr uon~i tvheerisre g. eMateenr recognize that they must constantly adapt [their thinking to manifold new discoveries being made.~ While it is not necessary to doubt the existence of absolutes as some of I our contemporaries do, the need. to recq~ze relative aspects of man's being and knowledge o~ the world is much more apparent today than ever b~fore A new manifestation of the evolutionary ~rocess in th ha,s . ~coe ab?y~ largely because ot t~he ~e~t ro e world ~twy esncthioetlhar cs einnt uthreiesse Mpeoriroedosv eisr, bethe ~ i"nng o cw o¯~m ~em,~ u g -ne i c a a a.te c~ea~ath m content and method to large masses of or " ~eople. The spread of scientifi- -~ . ,-- , dreary the development of the crit~ic ~a-lu supginrti tn eacmespsnargil ym menea. nIss this critical spirit a good or an evil for them? than e a s g ~re Although the wordc .n.t~.osm,, often e a to break down some existing structurec ownintohtoeus ta desire apprec~atmn of facts~ ~t need not have th:~ 1 . ~rop~r meamng As a genuine intellectual effort, ~,t~s ure-sfuolrttsu nmaatye more often be presupposed as good and ~onstructive. Criticism is usually offered out o~ a sincere ~ntent'on to better the existing structure, not to destroy i~, and~is the m~ural product o~ a creative mind. Without seein~ the ~ ly as the values which he holds have been critically examined, Sister Teresa ra~"mnally acceet~d,.an~ then u~e Mary, 5 as general guides to behavior is in-ra~ her than as ng~d mvmlable principles can the perso~ be character- structor in theolo~ ~zed ~ liberally educated." Paul L. Dressel, "'The Role of Critical at St. Mary's Col-Thinking in Acquiring Enduring Attitudes and lege; Notre Dame, w~th Revolutionary Chan~es ~ . Know'ledge to Deal Indiana. National Con er~ . ~. ?~.u, a paper presente~ to a. 19 .~ f . u n~gner Education in Ch'cz£. ~ ~' v0~v~ ~, ÷ + ÷ Sister Teresa Mary, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS deficiencies in the current state of our existence, individ-ually and within a group, we cannot even maintain our present good, much less acquire all the good that is po:~- sible for us.2 The tendency of the modern age to be critical can, if rightly exercised, open up wider oppo:r-tunities for full human existence. Having recognized the value of the critical process in human activity, we come to the problem of this article, to consider the relationship of criticism to the virtue o[ obedience in the religious life. While attachment to per-sonal judgment has always been the crucial issue in the question of obedience, this matter takes on added dimen-sions in an age which emphasizes the value of a good, free, critical personal judgment. When a subject has been educated to think for himself, there is bound to be a se-vere adjustment for his personality if he is obliged to give this up in the interest of religious obedience. Part of our problem will be to determine whether the subject of obe-dience is obliged to give up personal judgment in any way and, if not, how he is to coordinate a conflicting judgment with the will of the superior. The following examples from current articles should suffice to show that there are a variety of answers to the problem of obedience. These answers have seldom been compared so that some sharp differences among them could be properly noted. It will be well to look at them first before trying to answer whether religious obedience and critical thinking are compatible. All authors, of course, agree on two points: the supe-rior's will is to be obeyed in all commands which are not sinful, and this obedience must be more than a mere external execution of the command; as a genuine human act it must flow from self-determination to the goodness of the act of obedience. The religious subject recognizes in the light of faith that the superior has been invested with authority in a congregation estab

Issue 21.2 of the Review for Religious, 1962. ; FRANCIS J. WEBER The Relics of Christ The spiritual value of a relic is directly proportional to the devotion it inspires in those who venerate it. Apart from this spiritual significance, the relic is merely a his-torical curiosity. It may or may not be of archaeological value to the museums of the world. The official attitude of the Church regarding individual relics is one of extreme reserve. In most cases, the Church prudently withholds definitive judgment on even the most demonstrably ancient relics. In fact, while reluctant to proclaim the authenticity of a particular reli.c, the Church has not infrequently withdrawn from public Veneration relics whose claims were found to be dubious or spurious. In recent memory, this has happened in the case of "St. Philomena," center of a devoted cult for more than a cen-tury, though she had never been formally canonized and nothing actually was known of her life. Despite the many miracles attributed to the relics of this supposed second century martyr, unearthed from a catacomb in 1802, mod-ern research shed doubt on the authenticity of the re-mains. It should be noted that the decree of the Sacred Congre-gation of Rites in 1961 dropping the feast of St. Philomena from the liturgical calendar did not touch on the validity of the miracles attributed to her intercession. They may well have been genuine miracles performed by God be-cause of the faith and devotion of those who prayed for them. The oldest and most cherished of Christian. relics nat-urally are those reputed to have been connected with the holy person of Jesus Christ Himself. Those few that are still extant, for the most part, have sufficient historical documentation to merit scholarly attention. It must be borne in mind that the honor and veneration given to these objects is directed primarily to Christ. Hence, in, some cases where documentation establishes only doubtful authenticity, the Church is certainly jus-tified in remaining silent, if it is understood that in so doing the Church is not giving positive approval and if 4, 4. Francis J. Weber, a dPiorcieesste o of ft hLeo As rAchn-- geles, is presently assigned to Catholic University, Wash-ington 17, D.C. VOLUME 21, 1962 79 4. 4. Francis ~. Weber REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 80 greater honor and glory are thereby rendered to Almighty God. Our approach to this obscure and sometimes contro-versial subject is that of the historian, who presents only the facts, leaving conclusions to the reader, The True Cross The Cross on which our Savior died has been tradi-tionally the most precious of all Christian relics. Tiny splinters of the True Cross have been so widely distributed that, in the words of St. Cyril, "the whole inhabited earth is full of relics from the wood of the Cross." St. Helena is credited with discovery of the True Cro:;s in 327 A.D.1 Early testimony of the fathers, among them Ambrose, Jerome, Sozomen, and Theodoret, recounts this marvelous event in copious detail. The Cross was found in an abandoned cistern near Mount Calvary. Identifica-tion as the True Cross, according to St. Ambrose, was easy enough since the titulus was still affixed. To commemo-rate this great occasion, St. Helena orderd a magnificent basilica to be erected over the H61y Sepulchre. She gave it the name of St. Constantius in honor of her son, the Roman emperor. When Helena returned to Rome, the relics were placed in the Sessorian Basilica, Santa Croce in Gerusalemme. A substantial segment, of the. Cross-was left in Jerusalem where it annually attracted thousands of devout pilgrims. It was captured in the seventh century by Khosru II, the Persian conqueror. When the holy relic was returned by Heraclius in 628, the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross was instituted. The Jerusalem relic was divided many times. When certain of these fragments fell into the hands of the Mohammedans, the Crusades were inspired to restore them. An extensive and intensive study of the True Cross was made and published in 1870 by Rohault de Fleury. After examination of all extant fragments claimed to be from the True Cross, he drew up a minute catalogue of them, with precise weights and measurements. His findings proved that if all known pieces of the True Cross were put together, they would consitute less than one-third of the original Cross. This effectively silenced skeptics who had scoffed that the total of supposed fragments was bigger than the Cross itself. De Fleury's calculations2 were based on a cross of pine wood weighing an estimated 75 kilograms. The volume of 1 Louis de Combres, The Finding of the True Cross (London: Trubner, 1907). = Charles Rohault de Fleury, Mdraoire sur les instruments de la Passion (Paris: Lesort, 1870), pp. 97-179. this. cross would have been approximately 178 million cubic millimeters. Known volume of the existing relics does not exceed ,t0 million cubic millimeters. 0 Crux ave, spes unica! The Title of the Cross There are many fanciful legen~ls associated with the dis-covery of the True Cross by St. Helena. The manner of distinguishing the True Cross of Christ .from those of the two thieves is usually related with colorful if not his-torically accurate circumstances. However, St. Ambrose testifies there was no problem in identifying the True Cross as the titulus or title-piece was still intact. Other writers corroborate this account, notably Sts. Cyrils and Jerome. As has been the case with so many holy relics, the titulus was divided into seveial pieces. The Diary of Etheria lo-cates a piece of the titulus in Jerusalem in 380 A.D, Helena undoubtedly brought a part of the title back to Rome with her. Regrettably, there is no further documentation avail-able on the fate of the Jerusalem relic, For some reason, very likely to protect it from invaders, the Roman relic seems to.have been walled up in an arch of Santa Croce by Placidus Valentinian III in the fifth century. In the twelfth century it was accidentally un-earthed by Gherardo Caccianemici, titular cardinal and later Pope Lucius II. The future pontiff placed his seal on the reliquary and replaced it in its hiding place. In 1492 Cardinal Mendoza of Toledo rediscovered the relic which he immediately presented to the then Holy Father, Innocent VIII. A papal bull, Admirabile Sacra-mentum, was issued, after which the titulus was exposed for public veneration in Santa Croce. The title-piece is of wood, about nine by five inches in size, and comprises two-and-one-half lines of faded in-scription. Hebrew, Greek and Latin characters are dis-cernible, all of which axe printed in reverse, a practice common with the Romans of the time of Christ. The Shroud of Turin It is recorded in Chapter 27 of St. Matthew how Joseph. of Arimathea wrapped the body of Jesus in a "dean linen cloth." No further mention of this funeral shroud appears in Christian literature until the time of St. Nino4 (d. ~38), who relates how Peter removed the shroud from the tomb shortly after the Resurrection. The fourteenth century Byzantine historian, Nicephorus Callista, tells how this 8Philip Gonnet, De Sancti Cyrilli Hiersolymitani Catechismt~ (Paris: 1876). ¯ Edward Wuenschel, C.Ss.R.0 Sell-Portrait oI Christ (Esopus, New York: Holy Shroud Guild, 1954). ÷ ÷ ÷ Relics ot Christ VOLUME 21, 1962 81 4. Francis $. Weber REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Holy Shroud, soaked with the blood of Christ and bearing an image of His holy face, found its way to Constantino-. pie: "Pulcheria, Empress of the East, having built a basil-ica. at Blachernes in 436, piously deposited there the fu. neral linens of Our Savior, which had just been rediscov-. ered and which the Empress Eudoxia had sent to her." Eyewitnesses to the presence of the Holy Shroud at Con-stantinople are recorded in the Annals of 631, 640, 749, 1157 and 1171 A.D. During the Fourth Crusade, the Holy Shroud was sur. rendered in recompense to Otho de la Roche, Duke of Athens and Sparta. The Duke in 1204 sent the prized relic to his father in France. Soon after, it came into possession of the Bishop of Besan~on. A fire caused minor damage to the shroud in 1349. Later that same year, it was stolen from its case in Besan~on Cathedral and given to King Philip IV who in turn gave it to Geoffrey, Count of Char., ney and Lord of Lirey. There is documentary evidence ¯ that it was at Lirey in 1360. During the Hundred Years War, the Holy Shroud wa:; handed over by Geoffrey's granddaughter to the House of Savoy for safekeeping. In 1454, Pope Sixtus IV directed the Duke of Savoy, Louis I, to build a shrine for the shroud at his Chambery residence. During the troubled war years of the sixteenth century, the Holy Shroud was moved from town to town in France. It narrowly missed being destroyed a second time by fire in 1532, and in fact its corners were noticeably singed. At the request of the aged Charles Borromeo, the shroud in 1578 was brought to Turin where it has re-mained for the past four hundred years. It is presently preserved in the black marble chapel specially built for it behind the city's beautiful fifteenth century cathedral. Several pronouncements by the Holy See leave litth: doubt regarding the Church's official attitude toward the Turin Shroud. An Office and a Mass were formally ap-proved by Pope Julius II in the bull Romanus Ponti[ex issued in 1506. Sixtus IV had previously stated that in thbl Holy Shroud "men may look upon the true blood and portrait of Jesus Christ Himself." A remarkable discovery was made in .1898, when a pho-tograph of the Turin Shroud revealed the faint, blurred image on the ancient linen to be an actual "negative" produced by vapors from a human body covered witll spices. The negative of the modern photo~a negative of a negative, thus producing a positive--offered a far more pronounced picture of a human face than was previously recognizable. ChemiCally, this "vapograph" was caused by the am-moniacal emanations from the surface of the body after an unusually violent death. It has been proved experimen-tally that these vapors are capable of producing a deep reddish brown stain which would vary in intensity with the distance from a cloth soaked with oil and aloes. Hence the image of Christ's face on the shroud is a natural nega-tive. This modern evidence, together with the identification of human bloodstains, prompted Dr. Paul Vignon to read a brilliant paper before the Acaddmie des Sciences, in which he suggested that any explanation denying the authenticity of the Turin Shroud would be scientifically inaccurate. It might also be mentioned that, the impression on the shroud of the Grown of Thorns is in perfect conformity with the "helmet type" of crown displayed at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. Further, the nail wounds are not in the palms of the hands but in the wrists. It has been re-alized only in our own times that this was a physical neces-sity, for nails in the palms .of the hands would not have been able to sustain the weight of a human body. One of the major opponents and critics of the Turin Shroud was the anti-pope Clement VII, first of the Avig-non Pretenders. His opposition apparently stemmed from a vague charge made by the Bishop of Troyes that the shroud was the work of a local craftsman skilled in the subtle art of simulating antique handiwork. Other shrouds, thirty in all, each purporting to be the genuine article, have turned up through the centuries. Most notable are thosestill preserved at Besan~on, Ca-douin, and Champiegne. These shrouds likewise bear im-pressions alleged to be those of Christ's face and body. However, the preponderance of ,historical evidence seems to leave no doubt that among all the claimants, only the Shroud of Turin has a valid pretension to au-thenticity. The Pillar of the Scourging The column of the Praetorium to which Christ was bound during His scourging was discovered in the For-tress of Antonia in 373 A.D., according to a chronicle penned by St. Ephrem. St. Paulinus of Nola,5 writing after 409, refers to several relics of the Passion, among them "the pillar at which He was scourged." Philip of Brosserius saw the pillar in the Church of the Holy Se-pulchre in 1285. Some time before the end of the four-teenth century it was broken and one part was sent to Constantinople. An interesting Christian" tradition, dating back to .the See Letter 310f Paulinus. ÷ ÷ ÷ Relics o] Christ VOLUME 21, 1962 83 ÷ ÷ ÷ F~ancis $. Webe~ REVIEW I:OR REI.I~IOUS 84 fourth century, holds that Christ was actually scourged twice. St. John Chrysostom tells us this second flagellation took place at the house of Caiaphas after the mock trial. This tradition finds prominent mention in early chroni-cles. The pillar used for the second scourging was reserved in the Church of Mount Sion, the Cenacle, where St. Jerome reported he saw it. During the Persian invasion, it too seems to have been broken into several pieces. The portion left at the Cenacle was lost in 1537. The other part was returned to a church subsequently erected on the sit~ of the house of Caiaphas. Here it was venerated until the fourteenth century, when it completely disappeared. In 1222 A.D., Giovanni Cardinal Colonna, papal envoy to the Orient, returned to Rome with a fragment of the Pillar of the Scourging, apparently given him by the Sara-cens. He enshrined it in his titular church of St. Praxedes, where it may be seen today. The Roman pillar is of mar-ble, about two feet four inches high. It is.probably one of the parts of the Praetorian column. Its counterpart in Jerusalem is of a different material and may have formed the lower part of the pillar. The Holy Stairs Among the many treasures brought back from the Holy Land by St. Helena was the marble staircase from the palace of Pontius Pilate in Jerusalem. It is still extant,e The stone steps number twenty-eight and are said. to have been sanctified by the feet of Christ himself when He as-cended this stairway at the Praetorium. The stairway, reconstructed in Rome, originally formed part of the old Lateran Palace, leading into a chapel dedi-cated to St. Sylvester. When the Lateran Palace was torn down by Pope Sixtus V in 1589, the stairs were moved to their present location. Today the Scala Sancta constitutes the entranceway to the Holy of Holies~ an old private papal chapelY In its present site, the Scala Sancta is flanked by additional stair-wells on either side. Traditionally the Holy Stairs are ascended only on one's knees. The last pope to ascend the stairway in this fashion was Plus IX on the eve of his exile from Rome in 1870. Pope St. Pius X decreed a plenary indulgence for those who devoutly ascend the Scala Sancta on their knees as testimony of their love for Christ. Replicas of the Scala Sancta have been erected at Lourdes and other centers of pilgrimage. e Herbert Thursfon, The Holy Year o] Jubilee (Westminster: New-man, 1949). ~ Philippe Lauer, Le trdsor de Sancta Sanctorum (Paris: Leroux, t~o~). The Soldier's Lance Mention is made of the soldier's lance in Chapter 19 of St. John. In his account of the Savior's death, St. John re-lates that "one of the soldiers opened His side with a spear . " The first extra-Biblical.~mention of~,this relic seems to be by Anthony of P~efiZ~, who wrot~'~a~;he saw the Crown of Thorns and "the lance with which He was struck in the side," in the Basilica of Mount Sion.s A miniature of the renowned Syriac manuscript, illu-minated by Rabulas.in 586, assigns the name Longinus to the soldier whose lance pierced the crucified Christ. Gas-siodorus and Gregory of Tours speak of a spear venerated at Jerusalem, which was thought to be identical with that mentioned in Scripture. After the fall of Jerusalem in 615 A.D., several of the major relics of the Passion fell into the hands of the Per-sians. The Chronicon Paschale relates that a piece of the soldier's lance came into the possession of Nicetas, who enclosed it in an icon and presented it to Santa Sophia in Constantinople. In 1241 the Holy Lance was given to King St. Louis for Sainte Chapelle in Paris. No trace of this part of the lance has been found since it was lost during the French Revolu-tion, some time after its removal to the Bibliothkque Na-tionale. The second and larger part of the shaft of the soldier's iance was reported seen by Arculpus in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem about 670 A.D. Later it was taken to Constantinople, where Sir John Mandeville writes about it. It was sent to Pope Innocent VIII in 1492 in return for favors shown to the captured Zizin, brother of Sultan Bajazet. At request of the French hierarchy, during the pontifi-cate of Benedict XIV an investigation was conducted to ascertain the .relation, if any, between the two relics, one at Paris, the other at Rome. A papal brief, issued after the inquiry, concluded that both relics were originally parts of the same shaft. Several other supposedly genuine Ho!y Lances are pre-served in various treasuries of Europe, but none of the others offers a valid claim to authenticity. Even the story told by William of Malmesbury about the Holy Lance given to King Athelstan of England is historically in-accurate. Since the tragic loss of ihe Paris relic, only the Roman lance remains. It is exposed each year for veneration dur-ing Holy Week by the Archpriest of St. Peter's Basilica. 8 Francois Martin, Reliques de la Passion (Paris: Lethielleux, 1897). 4- 4- 4- Relics of Christ VOLUME 21, 1962 85 + + + F~ancis ~. Webe~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 86 Veronica's Veil According to the historian Eusebius in his commentary on the Legend of Abgar and according to remarks con-tained in the apocryphal work Mors Pilati, several au-thentic portraits of Jesus Christ were made at various times during His lifetime. The oldest and most authenticated of these images has been known to Romans for centuries as the Vera Icon or Veil of Veronica. So highly has this image been held in Roman esteem, that a Mass celebrating it was composed and inserted into at least one of the early Augsburg Missals.9 There is no reference in Scripture to a woman offering her veil to Christ during His Sacred Passion. But it is highly plausible that there was such a compassionate soul among those who followed Christ on His way to Mount Calvary. The incident itself is undoubtedly worthy of some credibility, since it has found its expression since very early times in the Christian devotion of the Stations of the Cross. Apparently the holy woman in question, known in pious legend only as Veronica, found her way to Rome, where she presented her Vera Icon---True Picture--to Pope Clement I. The veil, ostensibly bearing the image of the suffering Jesus miraculously pressed into it, was vener-ated in several places until the pontificate of John VII who had it enclosed in an ornate reliquary. During the ensuing centuries, the Holy See has exhibited particular solicitude for this precious relic. It had been reserved to the Pope's own chapel, St. Peter's Basilica, where it is ex, posed briefly during Holy Week for veneration by the faithful. The Holy Grail A whole cycle of romantic legends has been woven about the theme of the Holy Grail,1° but the legendary quests, inspiring though they may be, add nothing to the few slim historical facts available. Of the two notable "pretenders" to genuine Grailship, one alone merits se-rious consideration. And while tl~e chalice displayed at Valencia is not generally accepted as genuine by histo-rians, its proponents present a tolerable case in its behalf. An account by Bishop Siuri of Cordoba relates that the chalice used by Christ at the Last Supper was brought to~ Rome by St. Peter soon after the death of Mary. It was used frequently at Papal Masses until the pontificate of Sixtus II. During the persecutions of Valerian, St. Lawrence sent the chalice to his native Huesca in the northern part of o Sainte Veronique, apostre de l'Aquitaine (Toulouse: 1877). a0 Nutt, Studies o[ the Holy Grail (London: 1888). the Spanish peninsula where the Holy Grail remained until 713 when it was removed to San Juan de la Pena for protective custody during the Moslem invasion. A deed of exchange, dated September 26, 1399, testifies that King Martin acquired the Holy Grail for his private chapel in the Palace of the Aljaferia. About 1424 .the chalice was moved to Valencia by King Alfonso V. The chalice has remained at Valencia since the fifteenth cen-tury except for a brief period during the Spanish Civil War when part of the cathedral was burned by the Com-munists. It was restored to its chapel in the Metropolitan Cathedral at Valencia by the Franco government in 1937. Artistically, the Holy Grail is Corinthian in styling,ix made of agate or Oriental carnelian. The handles on ei-ther side are common appurtenances for drinking vessels of its period. The costly pearls, rubies, and emeralds were added much later. The Crown of Thorns St. Paulinus of Nola, writing early in the fifth century, is the first of the chroniclers to mention specifically "the thorns with which Our Lord was crowned." Other early writers allude apparently to this relic of the Passion, but their comments are vague and inconclusive. Writing about 570, Cassiodorus speaks of "the thorny crown, which was set upon the head of our Redeemer in order that all the thorns of the world might be gathered together and broken." The pilgrimage of the monk Ber-nard establishes that the Crown Of Thorns was still at Mount Sion in 870. According to fairly recent studies, the whole crown was transferred to Byzantium about 1063, although many ot the thorns must have been removed at an earlier date. The Latin Emperor of Constantinople, Baldwin II, offered the Crown of Thorns to St. Louis in 1238. After lengthy ne-gotiations with the Venetians, the r(lic was taken to Paris and placed in the newly built Sainte Chapelle where it remained an object of national devotion until the French Revolution. For security, the crown was placed in the BibliothOque Nationale during the bloody days of the upheaval. In 1806, it was restored to Notre Dame Cathedral. It was en-shrined in its present rock crystal reliquary in 1896. All that is left to be seen today is the circlet of rushes, devoid of any thorns. What remained of the original sixty or seventy thorns were apparently removed by St. Louis and deposited in separate reliquaries. The king and his successors distributed the thorns until nothing remained at Paris but the circlet. The Holy Chalice o/the Last Supper (Valencia: 1958). 4. 4. + Relics o] Christ VOLUME 21, 1962 Francis J. Weber REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 88 Reportedly there are more than 700 "holy thorns" scat-tered around the world. But only those traceable to St. Louis, to one of the emperors, or to St. Helena are genu-ine. Such authentic thorns aCe at Cluny, St. Praxedes in Rome, Santa Croce, and at Aachen, to mention but a few. The Nails There seems to be little agreement among Biblical scholars on the number of nails used to fasten our Blessed Lord to His Cross. Religious art of the early Middle Ages almost unanimously depicts the crucified Savior with four nails~ In the thirteenth century, however, it became in-creasingly common to represent the feet of Christ as placed one over the other and pierced with a single nail. Either of these methods is compatible with the informa-tion we have about the punishment of crucifixion as practiced by the Romans. The earliest authors, among them St. Ambrose, speak only of two nails.12 And it is a point of interest that the two oldest known representations of the Crucifixion, the carved door of Santa Sabina in Rome and the Ivory Panel in the British Museum, show no signs of nails in the feet. The most commonly accepted opinion is that there were three nails that actually touched the body of Christ. This is borne out by the evidence of the Shroud of Turin. In addition, there were probably another three nails used for the titulus, the seat block, and the foot rest. St. Ambrose and St. Jerome speak of the discovery of the nails in Jerusalem by Constantine's mother, St. Hel-ena, in the third century. Sozomen notes in passing that St. Helena had no trouble identifying the nails. One of the nails was fashioned into an imperial diadem for the emperor. This Iron Crown of Lombardy is now at Manza. Another nail was made into a bit for the imperial horse. This relic is believed to be the same as the one at Carpentas. A third nail was venerated for many years in Jerusalem before being moved to Rome's Santa Croce by Pope Gregory the Great. Several European treasuries claim to possess one or more of the true nails, but their, authenticity is clouded with the passage of time. Most of the confusion regarding the thirty or more known spurious nails can be traced to the well-intentioned Charles Borromeo who had reproduc-tions made of the nails and gave them out as memorials of the Passion. Conclusion These, then, are the more commonly accepted relics as-sociated with the holy person of Jesus Christ, our Savior. u De Combres, op. cir. If they have served to increase devotion to Almighty God, they have fulfilled their noble purpose. A saintly priest was once heard to exclaim: "Our Savior's greatest bequest to His children was not a treasury filled with mere material relics, but a golden tabernacle in which He Himself resides to be our fo6d~f6r all ~tei'nit~.!: 4. Relics ot Christ VOLIJME 21, ~962 89 EDWARD J. STOKES, S.J. Examination of Conscience for Local Superiors ÷ Edward J. Stokes, S.J., is Professor o[ Canon Law at St. Mary of the Lake Seminary, Munde-lein, Illinois. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 90 In the summer of 1961 Father Edward J. Stokes, s.J.0 was asked to conduct the annual retreat for a group of local superiors. One of the projects he asked them to do during the retreat was to compose on the basis of their own experience an examination of conscience to be used by local superiors at the time of the monthly recollection, the annual retreat, or at any other suitable time. The ques-tions submitted by this group of local superiors were syn-thethized by Father Stokes who then submitted them to the REvmw. The questions were further revised by Father John E. Becket, S.J., of the editorial staff of the REw~w; the final version of them is given in the following pages. Readers, whether superiors or subjects, who have ideas for the improvement of this examination of conscience either by way of addition, deletion, or emendation are urged to submit their views to the Rzwvw. If enough of such improvements are received, a newly revised version of the examination of conscience for local superiors will be published in a later issue of the R~viEw. Personal Religious Li[e 1. Do I strive to come closer to Christ by leading the life of union and interior peace with Him? Do I do everything in, with, and for Christ? 2. Am I afraid of sanctity because of the demands that it will make on me? 3. Have I forgotten that if I live better, I will pray bet-ter, and that if I pray better, I will live better? 4. Am I firmly convinced of our Lord's words: If you love me, my Father will love you and we will come to you and make our abode with you? 5. Am I convinced that this office of superior, when ful-filled to the best of my ability, is a source of sanctification for me? 6. To be a superior means to carry a cross. How often do I thank our Lord for the privilege of suffering with Him? 7. Am I a superior truly aware of my ownnothingness? 8. When I suffer discouragement, is it because I have not succeeded in doing God's will or because I have not succeeded in pleasing men? ~-,, . ~ °~' ~ 9. Am I deeply convinced that if I have done my best to fulfill God's will, I have succeeded? 10. Do I accept as personal any recognition, privilege, or service accorded me by reason of my office as superior? 11. How often do I make a Holy Hour in petition for the solution of a problem or to obtain a special grace for my fellow religious or myself? Ever a Holy Hour of thanks-giving? 12. Do I make the Sacred Heart of Jesus the King and Center of our religious house and Mary its Queen? 13. Do I take St. Joseph as the advocate and the pro-tector of the interior life of each one dwelling in our house? Personal Recollection and Prayer 14. Am I convinced that recollection is an absolute ne-cessity for any progress in the life of prayer? 15. Is my spirit of recollection such that it provides an atmosphere conducive to prayer? 16. How do I prepare the points of meditation in the evening? 17. What special meditation has drawn me closer to Christ?_ 18. Do I sometimes excuse myself from my prayers by telling myself that this or that duty must take first place? 19. Have I given full time. to my prayers or have I hur-ried through them in order to get to my other work? 20. Does the demand for great activity cause distractions in my prayers or perhaps lead me to neglect prayer; or does it rather make me realize my dependence on God? 21. Have I said common vocal prayers reverently and not annoyed others by my haste? 22. Am I observant of recollection immediately after breakfast? 23. Do I make a special effort to keep recollected on the days when it seems especially impossible? 24. Do I ever revert to God's presence in me throughout the day, to adore Him, thank Him, love Him, speak to Him about the needs of soul and body, my own, and those of my fellow religious? Confession 25. Do I make it a point to confess my added responsi-bility by reason of my office when I confess criticism of su-periors or priests? ÷ ÷ ÷ local Superiors VOLUME 21, 1962 91 4, 4, E. ]. Stokes, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 92 26. Do I make it a point to confess my added respons.i-bility as a superior when I confess failure to exercise ju:~- tice or charity in dealing with my.fell0w religioug? 27. Do I take advantage of my weekly confessions to re-ceive spiritdal direction? 28. Have my confessions been hurried due to an in-efficient planning of my time? Particular Examen 29. Is my particular examen specific? 30. Do I make a tie-in of retreat resolutions, the particu-lar examen, and weekly confession? 31. Do I make a daily examination of the motives that govern my external life? 32. Do I make my particular examen a vital part of my day as a religious? Mortification 33. Do I realize that my chief mortification is to tie found in the justice and the charity of my dealings with others? 34. Am I willing to perform one interior and one exte-rior act of mortification each day in order to obtain the blessing of our Lord on my community? Charity 35. Is love for others the outstanding virtue in my life? 36. Have I deliberately practised acting towards Christ in each person I meet? 37. Do I appreciate the importance of my personal charity to this community as a cell of the Mystical Body? Faith 38. Are the mysteries of Christianity the basis of my re-ligious life? 39. Have I made the connection between these mys-teries and the Rule, or have I let concern with the Rule obscure my reliance on broader Christian principles? Hope 40. Am I aware of the need for Christ's help in sanctify-ing myself by governing others? 41. Do I realize that Christ is able to utilize my faults in sanctifying others? Principles of Government 42. Do I realize that the most exalted duty of a su-perior is care for the spiritual life of his subjects? 43. Do I seek to serve God by serving my fellow re-ligious always and everywhere? 44. Do I pray regularly for the spiritual well-being and growth of those in my house? 45. Do I try to help each religious to develop a deep inferior life by my words and by my example? 46. Do I give my fellow religious an example of the love of regularity? . 47. Do I try to help my fellow religious develop a ready and loving acceptance of God's holy will by the example of my own acceptance of it in all my difficulties, trials, and failures as well as in my joys and success? 48. Do I realize and am I firmly convinced that seeing, accepting, and willing all that God wills for me in every circumstance of my life is the essence of sanctity; and do I teach my fellow religious this? 49. Am I trying to establish in my fellow 'religious a sense of the Mystical Body so that they are able to com-municate spiritually one with another? 50. Do I look for Christ in the problem religious? in the impudent child in the classroom? Do I see Him looking at me through the eyes of all my charges, seeking my love and devotion? 51. How often have I passed a fellow religious in the hall without noticing and greeting him? 52. In making use of the aspiration, "Praise be to Jesus Christ" during the periods of recollection, do I really try to see Christ present in that person?' 53. Did I personally visit at least one sick person of the parish or community, or delegate a religious to do so? 54. Have I in any way, by actions or words, shown a mere toleration for lay persons associated with our work? Or have I accepted them as allies in our work? Community Exercises 55. Do I faithfully observe the daily order? 56. Do I realize that as superior I set the tone and the spirit of the house, in recollection, cheerfulness, peace, hospitality? 57. Do I let human respect interfere with the duty I have as superior to insist on charity and the observance of the rules in my community? 58. Do I miss or am I late for spiritual exercises unless for a grave reason? 59. What community exercises have I missed in the past month? My reasons? Did I make them up at another time, or did I let them go through neglect or carelessness? 60. What can be done to make the chapter of faults more effective? 61. Do I create a family spirit? 62. Is my recreation self-centered? Do I do what I want and not talk or .do too much of the talking? Local Superiors VOLUME 21, 1962 95 ]. Stokes, FOR R~:LIGIOUS 94 63. Do I endeavor to make community recreation an exercise of wholesome family spirit? 64. Is my house truly a religious house or does it have the impersonality of a modern railroad station? Personal Qualities 65. Am I even-tempered? 66. Do I show true joy in my work? 67. Have I betrayed immaturity and lack of courage by disproportionate manifestations of disappointment and discouragement? 68. Do I allow my feelings to regulate my actions? 69. Do I have a good sense of humor? 70. How much self-pity does my countenance mirror when things go wrong? 71. Am I approachable? 72. Do I try, as far as possible, to treat all my fellow re-ligious in the same way--not showing any partiality or favoritism? Have I excluded any or passed them over iu the sharing of responsibility or favors? Are the same few always near me? 73. Do I treat as sacred anything that a fellow religious tells me in confidence? 74. How many times in the past month have I been im-patient with my fellow religious? 75. How do I act or react when I know that one of my fellow religious has offended me? Do I~take it in a Christ:- like way or do I hold-a grudge? Do I consider violations of rule as offenses against me? 76. Do I as superior always show exterior peace, calm, and happiness? I must do this if I am going to be the un-derstanding, religious superior that I should be. 77. In the presence of outsiders do I always show great loyalty to each and every member of my community? 78, Am I as reserved as I should be while visiting in the parlor? 79. Am I kind to all lay people, regardless of how much they can, orhave helped financially or otherwise--look-ing to the good of their souls first and foremost? Government 80. Do I run a disorganized house so that my subjects tend to say: "We never know what we are going to do next"? 81. Do I get all the facts before I make a decision? 82. Do I hesitate in making the decisions that I must as superior? Do I harm my fellow religious by my habit of procrastination? 83. Am I under someone's influence in the decisions that I make, an older religious or a former superior? 84. Do I contradict my orders, thus making it difficult to know what is my will? 85. Am I available to my fellow religious? 86. Am I open to suggestions? 87. Do I delegate responsibility and do I trust those to whom I have delegated it? If a duty is not being done as I would, do I give it to someone else or take over myself rather than try to help? Do I show interest without in-terfering? 88. Do I give authority as well as responsibility to re-ligious when I give them a job? 89. Am I a politician in dealing with my fellow religious instead of a Christlike superior? 90. Am I unnecessarily secretive in trivial matters, keep-ing the community guessing? Do I not see that this will cause bad feelings? 91. Do I talk uncharitably or show displeasure to one of my subjects about another subject in the house? 92. Should I not close my eyes to many insignificant petty things? Should I not use tact and by my example bring it about that these failings and imperfections will vanish--al'though perhaps not totally? 93. How have I controlled the conversation at table? Was I alert always to see to it that it never became un-charitable or critical, especially regarding students? 94. Do I initiate conversation regarding worthwhile reading? 95. Do I give the required instruction time to the young religious? Do I conscientiously prepare these instructions? 96. Do I complain about fnoney? Am I overly anxious regarding finances? 97. What is my attitude toward the suggestions, deci-sions, or orders of extern superiors in the institution in which our community works? Fellow Religious 98. Do I as superior treat my subjedts as mature, dedi-cated persons? 99. Do I trust my fellow religious and have confidence in them and show them that I do by the way I treat them? 100. Do I correct all when only one needs the correc-tion? Do I not see that this causes much criticism and irritated discussion? 101. Do all the members of the community feel that they belong and are an important part of the whole? 102. Do I give my fellow religious encouragement and show them gratitude for the good work that they are doing? A pat on the back does not cost much but it means a great deal especially to those inclined to get discouraged at times. 103. Have I within the last month made it a point to 4. Local Superiors VOLUME 21, 1962 95 .÷ ÷ ÷ E. ]. Stokes, .S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 96 compliment or praise or show attention, at least in some small way, to each religious in my charge? 104. Has each of my subjects received some word of praise (not flattery) from me recently? 105. Do I encourage group discussions so that all the community can express themselves? Do I see that such discussions are well-prepared and stimulating? 106. Do I see to it that the rest of the community share,,i in the rich contributions that some of its members can give, those, for example, who have had special oppor-tunities for studies? 107. Do I seek to serve God by serving my fellow re-ligious always and everywhere? 108. Do I show concern for the trials and crosses of my fellow religious? 109. How often do I check and consider the welfare of ¯ each of my subjects--spiritual and physical? 110. Is understanding the essence of my charity? Do I try to put myself in the subject's place and realize his emotions, attitudes, and difficulties--or is my charity based solely on my own attitude and outlook on life? He might not always want done to him what I would want done to me. I must try to understand his viewpoint. 111. Is each religious an individual to me? 112. Do my fellow religious.feel wanted and valued by me? 113. Do my fellow religious find the quality of thought-fulness in me? 114. Do I make it a habit to direct my attention to each religious individually at least once during the day? 115. Have I tried to satisfy each one's basic need to be accepted, the need for belonging? 116. Have I made use of each one's talents (all of them), or do I level them down to an equal share from each? Do I, then, expect only three talents from one who has and can give ten talents? 117. Do I take too much ~or granted the conscientious and well-balanced religious who does not demand my at-tention? 118. Do I give each individual religious my undivided attention regardless of who he is and how often he may come to me in a given day? 119. Do I make a sincere effort to speak to each re-ligious some time each day? 120. Do I give a sufficient amount of time to those who need to talk over with me the question of students who may be a problem to them? This could be a problem of behavior or some method that would help teaching. If a teacher is weak in discipline, this is a good means of gently getting across the fact that the child is not always at fault. 121. How well uo I "listen" when religious come for permissions, advice, and such? With preoccupation? With patience? With haste or annoyance? And this especially at difficult times? Or am I gracious, patient, helpful, Christlike? Have I shown impatience with those who come to me with trifles? Which of them? Do I r~ally listen when a religious is telling me something---or am I finish-ing up this job or starting another? 122. Have I treated each religious the same behind his back as I have to his face? 123. Do I control my hurt when one of the religious tells lies about me to religious of our own house? 124. Can my subjects sway my will by flattery? 125. Do I afford my subjects the opportunity of sug-gesting spiritual reading books? 126. What have I done to encourage professional read-ing on the part of my subjects? Do I give them an ex-ample in this regard? Do I ever check,up on them on this point? 127. Do I seek to prepare my fellow religious for fu-ture responsible positions in the community? ÷ Local Superiors VOLUME 21, 1962 97 KATIE ROCK Restoration, with a Difference 4. + 4. Katie Rock lives at 200 Oak Street, Falls Church. Vir-ginia. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 98 Washington, D.C. is a city of contrasts. There are beau-tiful green expanses and there are dark, depressing alleys. There are massive monuments and tremendous buildingsl and there are rows and rows of shabby, run-down homes. Happily, there is city-wide slum-clearance consciousness; and already in some parts of town the monotonous rows are being converted into magnificent Town Houses with every modern feature. Restoration is taking place for many reasons, but unfortunately the power and profit motives seem the big reason. It is therefore refreshing to know that some are bringing their talents and inspiration to the restoration simply because they want to have part in "restoring all things to Christ." An assignment enhanced by my own curiosity took me to Foggy Bottom, the latest dilapidated section to be-come the site of intensive re-making. Situated only one.~ half mile from the White House, it is bounded roughly by Georgetown, George Washington University, the new State Department Building, and the Potomac River. This was my first visit to Foggy Bottom since it became "fash-ionable," and I was so fascinated as I walked down the narrow streets that I stopped to browse a bit. Gradually tiny broken-down row houses are being transformed into confortable city homes. Interesting colors, small but per.; fect gardens, unique combinations of contemporary and forsaken styling are attractive and appealing. Among the private homes there are apartment hotels arising. ¯ It was fun to speculate about the insides of these color., ful homes as I walked along the old brick sidewalks. Oc.; casionally a brass plate revealed an M.D. was occupant, or a navy captain, or a professor. A baby carriage in a tiny yard indicated there is new life in Foggy Bottom, too; When I arrived at my destination, the corner of H and 25th Streets, I stopped in wonder and admiration. Be-fore me was a turreted three-story structure of brick, painted a soft yellow with black trim which offsets awe-somely the octagon-shaped tower, dormer, and windows. There is a terrace in front, a landscaped yard, and I peeped onto a sheltered patio. A lacy black iron fence surrounds the property and a brass plate announces that this is the home of Melita god~ck,~A.I.A, g: Associates. I was welcomed inside by Melita, who introduced me to her assistant, Bernice, and after' being made to feel at home, I settled down to hear the story of a wonderful new venture into the new frontiers of our faith. Who is Melita? The decor and art work and religious atmosphere of this first floor indicate an unusual life. Melita was born in Milan, Italy, and educated at Vienna Polytechnic. She is a convert to Catholicism. Although she is an artist and sculptress, her professional experience and livelihood have mainly been centered On architec-ture. Twelve years were spent with other firms. Included in her work with those firms were high schools in Arling-ton, Virginia, and Rockville, Maryland, commercial buildings and a shopping center, a drive-in restaurant, hospitals.and the huge Medical Center of the National Institute of Health in Bethesda, Maryland, and many government buildings ranging from a missile base to renovations of Post Offices. Since establishing her private firm about three years ago, Melita has designed the Queen Anne's Lane Town Houses in Foggy Bottom valued at :~1,000,000 (and which won for her a Goid Medallion award), many residences, the Consolata Missions Semi-nary in Buffalo, New York, the Ayles~ord Retreat Center in Chicago, and remodeling of churches in southern Mary-land. For the Government, among other projects, she modified a hangar at Andrews Air Force Base. There is another facet to Melita's background. Dur-ing the 1940's she worked for four years in the Harlem Friendship House, engaged in interracial work, apolo-getics, and the practice of the spiritual and corporal works of mercy. During this time she had rich experi-ences. She undertook a formal course in philosophy un-der Jacques Maritain. She learned the principles of social justice from the best of its exponents, Father John La- Farge, S.J., Baroness Catherine de Hueck Doherty, the Sheeds, and others. During these years, she developed a great love for liturgical music through the influence of other wonderful visitors to Friendship House, one of whom was Professor Dietrich von Hildebrand. More and more, as years went by, Melita!s ability in. architecture and her various artistic talents became an integrated venture. And the motivating force in her life was her religion. Her love of designing, composing, creat-ing, on the one hand, and her love of God and her fellow-man on the other were beginning to congeal into one idea. + + + Restoration VOLUME 21, 1962 99 ÷ ÷ Katie Rock REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS I00 In 1956, Melita took several months off from work to take a trip around the world, studying and observing the architecture of many lands and plans of other countries to meet the changes of modern life. Her first stop was Australia where she visited her brother, an engineer there. Then she visited the Philippines, Thailand, and India, observing certain unique and desirable aspects of Far Eastern architecture. From India she proceeded to the Holy Land, and this part of her journey provided a re-treat, as she put the world out of mind and became ab-sorbed in the life of our Lord. Her travels continued in Turkey, on to Italy where she lingered in Rome, then to Spain and France. In Germany she studied problems in-volved in regional planning for mining. Because of a serious interest in necessity for inter-diocesan planning, Melita was deeply interested in the episcopal planning bureau in Belgium, by which city churches and rural churches and schools are planned according to needs of city, suburban, or rural life. Here in Belgium, Melita observed the tremendous effect of "Young Christian Workers" in Catholic activity. The last stop was England, then home to sift and appraise the ideas and inspiration from her round-the-world journey. In 1958, Melita began her own firm, specializing in providing for her clients complete architectural, engi-neering, and planning service combined with interior decorating. The firm has the services of excellent consul-tants in engineering and financing. When the firm was first Organized, .Melita and Bernice lived and worked in the Potomac Plaza Apartments. One day a For Sale sign went up on a deserted, dilapidated dwelling across the street from the apartment. Curiosity and vision sent Me-lita on an inspection tour. The unusual lines and the lovely view of the Potomac from the third floor tower captured Melita's heart. And the creaky stairs, plaster-bare walls and cobwebs provided a challenge to Melita's pro-fessional ability. The house today seems to say it was joy as well as work that restored it to its immense liveability and unusual beauty. So much for Melita, the architect, for she is more than an artist and an architect. Melita has vision and percep-tion and appreciation for beauty not touched by human hands. Designing is not only a business with her but a God-given talent in which she expresses the love of God in her soul. Creative art, Melita told me, is the remedy man needs in this age of technology, assembly lines, and automation. These things, cold and impersonal, produce ragged nerves and tensions and strike at man's very soul, leaving him unmindful of the purpose for which his Crea-tor put him on earth. Into all forms of art--painting, poetry, music, and so forth---goes one's own personality, reflecting a personal relationship with the Heavenly Father. The closer to God man is, ~the truer his work, and the more he will choose a good and proper use of ma-terials. In the arts a man may find peace and contentment for he may use his.creativ.e ability' to transform his inner energy in a satisfying manner,~, ~, Happily, Melita sees her obligation to use her creative ability to promote a Christian society, a Christian com-munity life. Melita is taking the giant step of using her profession solely for the glory of God and for love of her neighbor with no profit except the profit of peace in her own heart. Others have done this; for example, Dr. Albert Schweitzer and Dr. Tom Dooley and Geo.rge Washington Carver. Her heart and will having been entrusted to God some time ago, Melita began sifting ideas about putting her philosophy into practice. Then ideas had to be translated into blueprints, and these blueprints needed and received approval from her auxiliary Bishop, Most Reverend Philip M. Hannan, chancellor of the archdiocese. Then came discussions with many wise and prudent friends: spiritual directors, teachers, fellow artists, other archi-tects, and even mothers of children who are awakening to the needs of our frustrated society. Far from relying solely on her own ideas, Melita sought and listened to ~he counsel of all. The result was a plan to begin a secular institute of the design professions to be called Regina Institute. A secular institute is an association of lay people living in the world but bound by the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, performing duties suitable for their talents for the love of God. Though popular and plentiful in Europe, secular institutes are just emerging in our coun-try. Their specific purposes vary widely. In Madonna House, for instance, workers live among the poor, teach-ing crafts and catechism, nursing the sick and feeding the hungry. In the Company of St. 'Paul, members teach, work in the Government, and so forth. This is a quiet life~ there is nothing in their dress to indicate they are an organization dedicated to Christ. Members simply strive to live as "Christs" among those needy in goods or in spirit. Regina Institute is taking another direction. First of all, Melita is concerned with the arts in the service of the Church's liturgy. She would like to assist in setting stand-ards for the quality of sacred art just as Benedictines have set a standard for sacred music. Second, she is endeavor-ing to bring the Incarnation into society by bringing Christian attitudes into the building professions and in-dustry and into city planning. The Christian philosophy of man and the social teachings of the Church are being Restoration VOLUME 21, 1962 ]0! Katie Ro~k REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 102 applied, thus supporting such contemporary projects as open occupancy, adequate housing, and so forth. Third, Melita and associates try to teach all of us the visual arts and their spiritual and cultural values. My visit showed me a great deal about the practice of these ideals and the life of this infant group. Melita and Bernice filled in a picture of a day in Regina House, tak-ing me on a tour of the house as they talked about their Rule. Recently Gwen moved in with Melita and Bernice. For the present they are living according to the Rule of the Third Order of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Melita has served as novice mistress of the St. Therese Chapter in Washington for eleven years. The Rule seeks to instill in its followers the spirit of constant prayer and love. Early each morning the group leaves for St. Stephen's Church nearby for a halfihour.of.meditation before 7:30 Mass. Breakfast follows, then they recite in ~ommon Prime, Terce and Sext from the Little 01~ce. (On.nice days they do so on the patio which they call their "clois-ter.") At 9:00 work begins. Lunch is at 12:30, followed by None and Vespers, then free time. At 2:00 they go back to work until dinner. At 7:30 comes Compline, Matins, and Lauds, and after that there is recreation-- long walks in nice weather, singing or reading at other times. One day of each.month is spent in retreat. There are three floors in l~egina House. The first con-tains the dining area and kitchen opening onto the patio, Bernice's office, and a music area. Melita plays the piano, and there is also a stereo arid many fine records, including Gregorian chant and classical music. On the second floor, we entered a work and study spa.ce. I was fascinated with the dozens of books and their range of subjects, from the culture of the Far East to the philosophy of Frank Lloyd Wright. There are books in German and French and Spanish, books on philosophy, Catholic Action, and the liturgy, books on ancient architecture and books on mod-ern design. Attractive chairs and a lovely view are invit-ing. Melita's bedroom, also on this floor, shows all her separate interests united in her one endeavor. There are beautiful religious objects, side by side with a drawing board (she is currently working on a dental laboratory) and there were several sketches in process, both water colors and oils. On the third floor are more drawing boards. This floor also serves as a workshop for other projects. Bernice finds time to make beautiful cards by a linoleum process fea-turing Melita's impressionistic designs. Bernice has a talent for dress designing and sewing; also she does lovely ceramic tile work. I noticed several clay models of build-ings as well as wooden models; Melita explained these help her visualize her ideas. Certainly the first purpose'of this institute is sanctifi-cation of its members. Theystrive for a four-fold contact with Christ: Christ the Life, through prayer.and the sacra-ments; Christ the Truth, through study and meditation; Christ the Way, through i~bedience; and Christ the Worker, through creative human effort for love of God. Melita invites young people inclined towards the design arts, who would like to dedicate their service to God, to talk to her. Regina House is large enough to house several women. If men apply, perhaps a home close by will be found for them, while work and prayer will be centered in Regina House. The necessity for meals and housekeep-ing means the Institute must attract also "artists" of the kitchen and "masters" of the broom. In fact, Melita is ready to consider anyone who is willing to share her ideals and approach, and invites those interested to con-tact her at 801 25th St. N.W., Washington 7, D.C. So sold was I by my visit that I was ready to apply-- but Melita just won't take a mother of eight growing children. Reluctantly I said "good-bye" and went out the big black door and the lacy iron gate. I looked back with new appreciation at Regina House which today so sur-passes in beauty and liveability its original design. From the ordinary it has become majestic. I left, believing that Melita's plan for it also far surpasses the ordinary Chris-tian way of living and that its tower truly points to Heaven and its eternal history is just beginning. ÷ ÷ ÷ Restoration VOLUME 21, 1962 103 WALTER DE BONT, O.P. Identity Crisis and the Male Novice Walter de Bont, O.P., is a member of the faculty o! the Catholic University in Nijmegen, Hol-land. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 104 Beginners' Failings Father Lacordaire,1 the day after his entry into the novitiate, confided to the master of novices: "Father, I can't stay here; these young men are childish and quite silly. They think everything is funny," "It would be a shame," the priest answered, "if the former preacher of Notre Dame of Paris should, by a hasty departure, give the world the impression that his entrance into religion had not been thoroughly consid-ered. Wait a while, then." Three weeks later the master of novices asked him, "When are you leaving?" "But I do not wish to go, so long as you are willing to keep me." "But what of your young companions who are so silly?" "Father," said Lacordaire, a little embarrassed, "I am the silliest of them all." In all the novitiates of the world since the beginning of monasticism there h~tve been young men, and some not so young, who were "a little silly." No matter how more or less normal they were a few weeks.previously, before they had left "the world," here they become affected by a whole series of strange phenomena which spiritual authors call "beginners' failings" (see especially St. John of the Cross, Dark Night, 1, 1-7). Using the material furnished by the experiment described below, the following section will give a rapid and pseudonymous portrait of certain "types" who betray the curious behavior encountered among be-ginners. *This article is translated with permission from the original article, "La crise d'identit~ du novice," which appeared in Suppld-ment de la Vie Spirituelle, 1961, pp. 295-325. The translation is by the Reverend John E. Becket, S.J. Passing Vagaries Brother Clement suddenly develops a phobia for drafts; underground currents beneath his bed keep him from sleeping; he wonders whether the spinach from the garden has enough iron to supply his needs; the light bulb on his work table endangers his eyes; and so on. No one has de-scribed more humorously than St. Teresa of Avila this kind of hypochondriac novice who seems "to have entered the cloister solely to labor at staving off death." She her-self, for that matter, knew this temptation of seeking "not to lose one's repose here below and still to enjoy God in heaven." John is a real gourmet--in search of spiritual delicacies. All his efforts are aimed at getting the satisfaction of a very sensible devotion from' prayer; In his :better moments he feels inundated with grace and spends hours in the chapel. When consolation no longer comes to him, he is desolate and lamentsin the blackest sorrow. At such times he passes the time of meditation breaking in books. Guy fears to embark on the road to perfection, excusing himself as one who was not meant to accomplish great things. He even thanks God for not making him too in-telligent. Comparing himseff with others, he has already lost all courage. Some suffer from quite peculiar sexual problems. At the very moment of prayer, confession, or communion, sexual feelings and reactions surge up. Cassian has already spoken of a brother "who enjoyed constant purity of heart and body, having merited it by reason of his circumspection and humility, and who was never afflicted with nocturnal emissions. But whenever he prepared for communion, he was sullied by an impure flow in his sleep. For a long time fear kept him from participating in the sacred mys-teries" (ConIerences, 22, 6). And then there are the pilgrims of ,the absolute with pure and perfect ideals. They are so punctual in their ex-ercises that you can set your watch by them; but they easily forget that the rule is merely a means to love God and their neighbor better. Burning with enthusiasm, they seem to have sanctity within their grasp. Lacking patience, they try to force the ascent toward God with Draconian measures. The novitiate is the decisive year in which holi-ness must be achieved. For them profession is a final set-tlement and not a decisive beginning. Or else there are the grim ascetics. In his enthusiasm for purity, Henry Suso did not scratch, nor even touch, any part of his body. Throughout the day he abstained from all drink. In the evening at the sprinkling with holy water, he opened his dry lips and gaped toward the 'sprinkler, hoping that a tiny drop of water would fall on his arid 4. + + Identity Crisis VOLUME 21, 1962 ]05 4. W. de Bont, OJL REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 106 tongue. At the age of forty, luckily, when "his whole na-ture was so devastated that nothing was left for him but to die or leave off his austerities," he opted for life and threw his whole arsenal of instruments of penance into the lake. For most of these novitiate "follies" are only temporary. Sooner or later good sense reasserts its rights, and the spiritual life of the subject becomes more balanced. St. Teresa had already clearly sensed that this bizarre conduct of the novice-beginner was somewhat forced and not genuine: Anything which gets the better of us to such an extent that we think our reason is not free must be considered suspicious, for in that way we shall never gain freedom of spirit, one of the marks of which is that we can find God in all things even while we are thinking of them. Anything other than this is spiritual bondage, and, apart from the harm which it does to the body, it constrains the soul and retards its growth (Book of the Foun-dations, Chapter 6, from The Complete Works ot Saint Teresa oI Jesus, translated and edited by E. Allison Peers, Volume III, p. 32 [London and New York: Sheed and Ward, 1946]). If "our reason is not [completely] free," then we are not fully on the plane of moral defects, but partially on that of psychic determinisms. And it is precisely the psychic aspect of these, phenomena that we propose to study in this article which has no other aim than to throw some light by the help of modern depth psychology on this strange being whom the masters of the spiritual life have been ob-serving for centuries, the beginner par excellence, the novice, and on his imperfections. The perspective of this article must, then, be clearly emphasized. This is not a work of spiritual theology. The theologian contemplates the events of the novitiate with the eyes of faith; he sees there the hand of God and the conflict between grace and sin. The perspective of this article is much more modest; it is, to put it simply, psychological. Without in any way denying the workings of grace, we shall systematically ab-stract from them; for the designs of God and the ways of grace are not apprehended by the purely human ways of kno~ving which alone are at the disposal of the psychol-ogist. While leaving aside the supernatural aspect of the growth of the novice, we are bound to point out that this aspect tias been amply clarified by the masters of spiritual theology from Cassian and St. Benedict to St. John of the Cross and contemporary authors. Working Hypothesis and Methodology To initiate the psychological study of the novice and of his "imperfections," we took as "subjects" twenty-eight male novices belonging to two quite different communi-ties. We asked for volunteers only, but in each novitiate everyone volunteered. The age of our subjects varied from eighteen to twenty-two years. The level of their previous instruction was for the most part uniform, and they were about equally divided between those, from rural and those from urban backgrounds. The experiment was made dur-ing the fourth month of the/novitiate. i~ A double series of tools was used, since our aim was to clarify certain problems of the spiritual life. of the sub-jects by a study of their personality in the course of evolu-tion. a) For the study of personality, projection tests were used, especially the Rorschach and the Thematic Apper-ception Test (T.A.T.), since these two tests are universally recognized as highly useful for this purpose. The admin-istration of the Rorschach was preceded by the drawing of a human figure, so that the subject might implicitly per-ceive that a creative effort was expected of him. b) For the study of their spiritual life, the novices were asked to write a four-page essay entitled "The Ideal and the Difficulties of My Spiritual Life." c) To complete our information from the character-ological as well as the spiritual side, we conducted inter-views of about an hour with each subject, his master of novices, and the assistant to the master of novices. It was striking, especially in going over the Rorschach protocols, to see the number of signs of anxiety, of ten-sion, and of disintegration. Equally striking, however, were the efforts at synthesis. Given the age. and the situa-tion of our subjects, this called to mind the psychological situation described by Erik Erikson under the name of "identity crisis" (see Erik Erikson, "The Problem of Ego Identity" in Identity and the Lqe Cycle, volume one of "Psychological Issues" [New York: International Univer-sities Press, 1959]). As a matter of fact, the novice is a young adult, around eighteen to twenty years of age. As others become doctors, engineers, and fathers of families, he, at the end of his adolescence, chose in a more or less definitive way the role he wanted to play in adult society: that of religious or priest. This role is the result and syn-thesis of his entire previous development. In this connec-tion, Erikson uses the word "identity" because in this role the young man ought to be able to accomplish the best he is capable of while at the same time promoting the aims of society. The novitiate is his first serious testing of this role; he is vested in the religious habit and he follows the rules of his community as they are adapted for re-cruits. What does this identity of pries.t-religious become in the novitiate? Is the young man able to realize it here in the way in which he dreamed of doing? Does the com-munity he has chosen respect this identity? If these ques-tions receive a more or less negative answer, .a crisis oc- VOLUME 21, 1962 curs, an identity crisis because it is the novice's identity that is brought into question. As with every crisis it is manifested by certain symptoms; and one may assume that the imperfections of beginners are precisely the signs of this crisis on the religious plane. Our hypothesis then is this: The novitiate induces in the young religious a crisis about his identity, about the role he wishes to play in life, a role which is the end prod-uct of all his previous development; this crisis comes from the fact that this role is threatened by the novitiate; and the imperfections of beginners are the symptoms of this crisis. In order to understand this hypothesis better, a more ample presentation must be made of Erikson's notion of identity. This will be done in several of the following sec~ tions. ÷ ÷ ÷ W. de Bwnt, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 108 Identity, Synthesis of the Personality During adolescence all the impulses of earlier life re-appear accompanied by a strong genital drive. It is the characteristic work of the male adolescent to subordinate this chaos of impulses under genitality and find them their proper object, a girl. But this adjustment of one's infan-tile heritage to one's new acquisitions does not confine itself solely to the level of impulsive life; it equally con-cerns the other functions of the personality, the ego and the superego and their identifications. For the young man. must subordinate his previous identifications to a new kind of identification, an ultimate identity learned in so-cial contacts and competitive apprenticeship with his equals. These new identifications no longer have the ca-priciousness of infancy or the experimental fervor o youth; with extreme urgency they impel the young indio. vidual toward choices and decisions which progressively conduct him to a final definition of himself, to an irrev-ocable configuration of rol~s, and then to lifelong com-mitments. The normal adolescent performs this reintegration him. self, using spontaneously chosen adults and older adbles-cents as his models. But the age at which this synthesis is completed varies considerably. The more complicated a civilization is, the longer it takes its members to integrate their personality and find their place in society. At the bee ginning of our era people were married at Sixteen, a thing that rarely happens today. Suso entered the novitiate ar thirteen, whereas nowadays even canon law considers thi.~ too early. Moreover it would seem that workers or farm people come to adulthood before members of the profes. sional classes who have more to integrate and spend a longer time in training. Finally, the presence of acute conflicts can make this integration even more difficult and slow. At the worst, they may even render such integration impossible and the subject becomes neurotic or psychotic. Identity, a Psychosocial Reality This ultimate identity of which we have been speaking is unique for each individual because no two ,develop in identically the same way. '~Id~e'~,er, it is fa~'~O~ being individualistic. A person becomes himself only in a given society and in order to live in that society according to that identity. Ideally, identity implies that one is most oneself when one is most in relation with others and that our personal values and ideals coincide for the most part with those of the environment which is accepted by the person and in which he feels himself accepted. It is of ex-treme importance for the formation of the identity of the young man that society respond to him and that he receive a function and a status which integrates him into the community. In order to take his place in society the young man must acquire the skillful use of his principal ability and fulfill it in some activity. He should enjoy the exercise of this activity, .the companionship which it furnishes, and its traditions. Finally he must receive a setof teachings which allow him to see the meaning of life: religion, philosophy, or some ideology. Speaking psychosocially, the'h, identity is the role, integrated into the character, which the indi-vidual wishes to play in society and for which he expects the approbation of society in order to give meaning to his life. After the psychosexual delay of the period of latency there must, in consequence, be another delay, adolescence, so that the already sexually adult young man may, by freely experiencing different roles, find himself a place in some section of society, a place which in its definiteness seems made uniquely for him. The Genesis o[ Identity Identity must not be confused with identification. The simple addition of infantile identifications (the child act-ing like his parents, his brothers, his uncles, his teachers, his friends.) never results in a functioning personality. These identifications are too disparate and too contra-dictory; they are, moreover, often far from being socially acceptable or realistic, since the child's imagination dis-torts the image of his. parents or other models to suit his own needs. The final identity which emerges in the course of adolescence and which at the end of its development is largely fixed, is rather a new configuration which includes all previous usable identifications while transcending them all. They are transformed to make a whole which is unique and reasonably coherent. This new configuration ought to be achieved in such a way that in it the physical 4. VOLUME 21, 1962 ]~9 ÷ ÷ W. d~ Bont, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS constitution of the young man, his affective needs, his best liked capacities, his effective defense mechanisms, and his successful sublimations find their rightful use. The formation of personal identity, then, has its roots in the most distant past of the individual, a past often lost in the clouds of the unconscious. It begins with the first introjections and projections of the baby whose relative integration depends on a mutually satisfying relationship between the child and his mother. For it is she who must give him that basic trust in himself and in others which is at the foundation of any process of becoming social. Then follow the different identifications of childhood which will be the more successful according as.their proto-types show themselves to be both loving and firm. The last step of the formation of the ultimate identity begins when the usefulness of identifications is over. It consists of the repudiation of some infantile identifications and an absorptive assimilation of others of them into a new configuration, which in its turn depends on the proc-ess by which a society (or the subgroups of a society) "identify" the young man by recognizing him as someone who ought to have turned out as he did and who is ac-cepted as he is. Society in its turn feels "recognized" by the individual who demands to be accepted, or profoundly and aggressively rejected by the individual who seems un-interested in any social integration. Identity manifests itself, then, in the role which the young man is going to play in society. Identity Crisis When the young man, emerging from.adolescence with his newly acquired identity, does not find in society the place he needs in order to continue to be what he has been and to develop still more, he runs the risk of a crisis. His ambitions may be too vast, society too different from his ideal; certain aspects of his identity may be poorly de-veloped in relation to what is demanded by the customs of his milieu from the viewpoint of sex, occupation, or in the area of academic or athletic competition. This constitutes a failure, at least a partial and provisional one. The at-tempt to enter into a relationship with society will piti-lessly reveal any weakness up to now latent in his identity. There results a state of confusion with the following symp-toms: a feeling of isolation, a breakdown of the feeling of personal continuity, shame, inability to enjoy any ac-tivity, a sense of enduring life rather than of actively living it, a distorted perspective of time, and finally, an extreme mistrust of others as if society were in opposition to what the subject wants to be. But no matter how many neurotic or psychotic symp-toms may be discovered, an identity crisis is not a sickness. Rather, it is a normal crisis, that is, a normal phase of sharp conflict characterized by an apparent wavering in the strength of the ego, but also by great possibilities for growth. Neurotic and psychotic crises are characterized by a tendency to perpetuate themselves because o~ a loss of defensive energy and ~i deep social isolation.~ A'grOWth crisis, on the contrary, is relatively more easy to overcome and is characterized by an abundance of utilizab!e energy. This energy, doubtless, causes the reawakening of dormant anxieties and engenders new conflicts; but it supports the ego in the functions it has newly acqtiired or developed during the search for new opportunities or for, new rela-tions which society is more than ever ready to offer. What appeared as the .onset of a neurosis is often only a quite acute crisis which dissipates itself and helps more than it harms the formation of the subject's identity. Some cases, however, reach a less fortunate outcome: derangement, suicide, or a confirmed case of nerves. We have already briefly mentioned the characteristic symptoms of the identity crisis, now it will be worthwhile to give a more ample description of them by contrasting them with the dimensions of an ultimate identity success-fully achieved. The Dimensions of Identity and Its Crisis At each stage of man's psychosocial, development cer-tain criteria allow us to see whether the individual has passed through this phase successfully or whether he has failed. So it is with the baby's crisis of trust (in the oral stage of development); with the crisis of autonomy at the age of two (during the anal phase); with the crisis of in-itiative around the age of five years (the age of the Oedipus complex); with the assimilation of work during the time of schooling; the crises brought about by marriage and the birth of children; and the problems posed by maturity and old age. What interests us here are the criteria which let us evaluate the identity crisis in the passage from puberty to adulthood. Erikson gives eight criteria which show whether the young man has succeeded in building up for himself in accordance with his possibilities an ultimate identity which is both balanced and accepted by his environment, or whether he remains at grips with an outgrown identity which is deficient and replete with conflicts. As has just been said, each growth crisis reawakens sleeping anxieties, the relics of old battles in former crises which were buried but not done away with. In the identity crisis certain con-flicts of preceding stages of psychosocial development are reawakened. This reawakening evidently does not bring these conflicts forward under the shape which they had when the subject was still a baby or a small child, but in a Identity Crisis VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ W. d~ Bont, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS way that is colored by his current development. The first four dimensions of the identity crisis mentioned by Erik. son are reawakenings of former crises which, as we have mentioned, have to do with trust in o~hers and in oneself, personal autonomy from others, the ability to take the ini.~ tiatives by which one becomes "someone," and the ability to do one's work well. But the young man is not formed by his past alone; he is also stretching towards the future; The last three dimensions of the identity crisis are then foretastes of the problems which he will have to resolve later on in his life when he marries, when he becomes a fafher, or when he .reckons up the balance of his whoh: life. ¯ Here then are the eight criteria or dimensions of the identity crisis: a) Presence. or absence of a perspective in life. The young man in the grips of an identity crisis manifests a confused attitude toward time which may be more or less grave according to the case. He sees no prospects for him-self in life. Since his identity is not well defined and he is fully confused with regard to his place in society, his con-fidence in the future is completely overturned. He is in despair, even if this shows up as a headlong precipitancy with which he tries to reach his goal, like the student who, for an elementary examination in biology, studies only the most advanced articles. This is a derivative revival of the impatience found in the child who has not yet realized that all human activity realizes itself only gradually in obedience to the progressive nature of time rather than all at once as if by magic. When the young man resolves his crisis and begins 'to become himself, when he synthesizes the different aspects of his character and finds his place in society, this co:a-fused attitude toward the temporal element of his life is changed into a rich diversity of prospects; at the same time he becomes open to the temporal dimension as indispen-sable for every building up of his personality. Moreover, through the temporal dimension of the ideology which it offers him, society can help the young man to rediscover the feeling that his past and his future have a meaning. Most religions, philosophies, or political doctrines teach that there is a meaning and a direction to life. Even though such an ideology may not be altogether realistic and may represent a certain simplification of the order of things, still, in such a situation its pedagogical usefulness is real. b) Self-certainty or self-consciousness. The young man going through an identity crisis is characterized next by insecurity, by a doubting of himself accompanied by shame at what he is or has been. What reappear are the social characteristics of the anal stage. Once he has regained at a higher level the balance which he had achieved before, the new sense of his own meaning gives him the necessary assurance to face life and to assume his chosen role in society. Here again, in the recovery of assurance, social surroundings can be a powerful aid by the uniformity of conduct, arid ,sometimes of~:clbthing, which they impose, often without even demanding them by an explicit code. With the help of this uniformity, the young man, though in a state of confusion, may tempo-rarily hide his shame and his doubts until his identity is sufficiently reestablished. c) Free experimentation with roles or its absence. The healthy young man's entrance into adult society is char-acterized by the provisional adoption of a great variety of roles and initiatives, each of which is tested by a process of trial and error in order to .decide which is better for him so that he may make a final choice which will determine the principal content of his adult life. This is a prolonga-tion of the child play of the Oedipal age in which the child sought to overcome anxiety by his identifications; the child of four who plays at driving a bus attains, in this way, at least in his imagination, equality with the adults he fears, especially his parents (the castration complex of classical psychoanalysis). But in certain cases, especially if adoles-cence is unduly prolonged, the opposite of this free ex-pe. rimentation with roles is found. To characterize this other extreme, Erikson speaks of negative identity, that is, "an identity perversely based on all those identifications and roles which, at critical stages of development, had been presented to the individual as most undesirable or dangerous, and yet also as most real" ("The Problem of Ego Identity," op. cit., p. 131). The 'young man whose mother is always saying, "If you act that wa~ you will turn out like your uncle [a drunkard]" can end up precisely that; he identifies himself with what is forbidden because it is more real for him than the positive ideal which' his mother never spoke of with such eloquence. According to some recent research (that of Adelaide Johnson and her staff) juvenile delinquency (in the area of aggressivity)and perversion (in the sexual area) are frequently the result of such largely negative education. But there are still other ways to renounce a free experimentation with roles; for example, the renouncement of personal identity in an ex-treme conformism which tries to root out everything which goes against even the excessive demands of the en-vironment. Here again the different segments of society offer the young man initiations or confirmations which are apt to encourage the spirit o[ initiative while channeling it and allaying the reawakening of Oedipal guilt. "They strive, within an atmosphere of mythical timelessness, to com- . 4- 4- 4- VOLUME 21, 1962 113 ÷ ÷ ÷ W. ~e Bo~t, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS bine some. form of sacrifice or submission with an energetic guidance toward sanctioned and circumscribed ways of action--a combination which assures the development in the novice of an optimum of compliance with a maximum sense of fellowship and free choice" ("The Problem of Ego Identity," op. cit., p. 144). d) Anticipation of achievement or work paralysis. The next characteristic of the adolescent who is initiating him-self into society is the anticipation of success. He feels able to accomplish something, to fulfill his function in the. community in such a way that the other members will re-pay him by their esteem. This is a prolongation of the ap-plication to school work during the period of latency. When things go poorly, the subject, instead of feeling him-self able to assume his role, is paralysed in the work he is doing either because his ambitions are too vast or because his environment has no place for his special capacities or does not give him the recognition he hopes for. Or he risks everything to gain everything and throws himself." prematurely into an intellectual or social activity which is extravagant and rigid and which may in the end com. pletely destroy his personal happiness, if not his physical existence: At the root of ~ill these forms of work pathology we find, according to Erikson, a reawakening of Oedipal competition and of the rivalry with his brothers or sisters. The different segments of society help those who are the process of learning and of trying out their social role by offering them .a certain provisional status, that of ap-prentice or student--with all that these imply of duties, competition, freedom, and also of potential integration into the hierarchy of jobs and of classes, as in associations for young adults (for example, political parties have their sections for youth which act ~s an initiation into adult life). e) Identity or confusion. The most general character-istic of the young man who has not yet achieved interior and social balance is confusion. This is the global result of all the imbalances set up by the reawakening of old conflicts and of all the confused attitudes which come from the fact that the ~oung man is still unable to take his place in the community of adults. A multiplicity of contradic-tory roles results. Two souls come to exist in one body, as the hermit and the power mad man did in Francisco Jimfinez de Cisneros (Le Cardinal d'Espagne), or ~2z~chiely and Tenebroso-Cavernoso in Father Joseph, the grey emi-nence, "combining in his own person the oddly assorted characters of Metternich and Savonarola" (Aldous Huxley, Grey Eminence [New York and London: Harper, 1941], p. 128). Nevertheless, when the conflict has been crystal-lized, that is, become irreversible, we no longer speak of an identity crisis or of confusion, but of neurosis (sympto- matic or characterological) and of psychosis in which the 'T' has become someone else in the complete collapse of the sense of oneself, as in the case of the novice who, having divested himself in choir, appeared on the altar before the community piously assembled for a ho.ly hour and said, "I am the Immaculate C6nceptiofi."'~ The opposite of this confusion, which emerges in a more or less definitive way at the end of a successful ado-lescente, is identity. It is the feeling of having integrated into one's person all the valuable elements of one's child-hood heritage in order to give oneself with all one's forces .to love, to work, and to the social commitments, of adult life. We need not develop this sinc~ it has already been treated in previous sections of this article. f) Sexual identity or bisexual.conIusion. We come now to the ch~aracteristics of the identity crisis which are not derived from old, preadolescent' conflicts reawakened by physical maturation, but which are rather the precursors of conflicts which will find their climax and their.resolu-tion later in the ages of preadulthood, adulthood, or ma-turity, The proper task of the preadult period is intimacy, es-pecially sexual intimacy, with a partner. According to Erikson the "utopia of genitality" ought to include: mu-tual orgasm with a loved partner of the opposite sex with whom one is willing and able to share mutual responsibil-ity and with whom one is willing and able to adjust the cycles of work, procreation, and recreation in such a way as to assure their offspring a similar satisfactory develop-ment. As for the celibate, "a human being should be po-tentially able to accomplish mutuality of genital orgasm, but he should also be so constituted as to bear frustration in the matter without undue regression wherever consider-ations of reality and loyalty call for it" (Erik Erikson, Childhood and Society [New York: Norton, 1950], p. 230). Whoever fails at this stage becomes an isolated personality. In the identity crisis the precursors of these extremes are seen. The one who will later succeed in entering into a true intimacy with another is the one who succeeds in integrating into his personality the true characteristics of his sex, who sees himself both consciously and uncon-sciously as pertaining to his sex, and not more or less to the other sex. In those periods when the personality is less structured, and especially in irreversible pathological cases, there is a clear incapacity to assume the role proper to one's sex, a confusion of masculine and feminine traits which exceeds the relative confusion which' is normal at the beginning of adolescence. Intimacy presupposes, therefore, a sense of one's iden-tity, a capacity to be oneself on the sexual level as on other levels: "The condition of a true twoness is that one must ÷ ÷ VOLUME 21, 1962 115' 4. 4. 4. W. de Bont, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS first become onself" (Erik Erikson, "Growth and Crises of ~he 'Healthy Personality' " in Personality in Nature, So-ciety, and Cultizre, C. Kluckhohn and H. Murray, eds. [New York: Knopf, 1956], p. 222). Anyone who has .not achieved his own identity can not have intimate relations with another. He will take refuge in a sterile isolation for fear of losing himself completely; or else he will turn him-self over to another body and soul borrowing the identity of the other to fill up his own void, in this way vainly seeking to resolve an identification which was not success- [ul in childhood. Different societies have very different means of helping through these difficulties the young man who is already physiologically, though not socially, adult: by demanding complete sexual continence; or by permitting sexual ac-tivities which do not lead to definitive social engagements; or by stimulating sexual play without intercourse (pet-ting). The purpose of this prop is to stimulate and to strengthen the ego and its identity. g) Authority: orientation or conIusion. The adulthood of a truly healthy man ought to be characterized by pro-. creativeness; this means assuming responsibility for' the. next generation by parenthood or by other forms of al-truism and creativity. A failure along this line means that' one is absorbed in his own problems instead of placing his energy at the service of others. This is a victory for narcissism: "Individuals who do not develop generativity often begin to indulge themselves as if they were their own one and only child" (Erikson, "Growth and Crisis of the 'H~althy Personality,' " op. cir., p. 223). What forecasts this approaching procreativeness in the young man is the ability to be either a leader or a follower according to circumstances. The attitude of the subject {n everything that conc(rns authority (exercising it or obey., ing it) is realistic. Any future failure of procreativity be-trays itself in the inability to lead or to follow when one of these two relationships is required. It is especially in sub-groups of his.companionsthat society gives the adolescent the opportunity to try out this strength in the area of aw thority. h) Ideological orientation or conIusion o] ideals. When he has arrived at maturity, the normal man has the sense of having completed his task as far as possible. He accepts responsibility for what he has made of his life and of his personal abilities. Having helped others to become them-selves, he can now pass on this responsibility to the next generation and withdraw from the scene. The man, on the contrary, who has not realized his potentialities for the service of others will experience despair and disgust with himself. He would like to begin his life over but realises that it is too late. His life is a failure whether he admits it to himself or hides it by projecting the blame onto others. This was the case with Father Joseph, that "grey emi-nence" whose double identity was mentioned above. At the end of his life, he felt the bitterness and frustration of a man who has seen God, but who, through his own fault, has lost Him in the attempt t6i'ser~ two mastersJ~loser to us, we have the story of, Sister Luke' and of all those who leave their communities around the age of forty. These two possible attitudes which can emerge at the crisis of maturity are foreshadowed with the'young man by an ideological orientation, "a choice among many val-ues of those which demand our allegiance"; or on the con-trary, by a chaos of ideals without connection or sy.nthe-sis. Society helps the young man here by proposing a variety of ideologies each of which may be useful to him in proportion to its internal consistency. The above paragraphs are a brief presentation of the eight criteria which, according to Erikson, show whether and how the young man succeeds in constructing an iden-tity of his own. If in one or other of the eight areas listed he does not succeed in extricating himself from the confu-sion engendered by this indispensable maturation of his personal identity, he risks becoming the victim of a more or less profound psychic derangement, which may assume the shape of one of the classical forms so thoroughly stud-ied by clinical psychology: symptomatic neurosis, charac-ter neurosis, delinquency, psychosis, and so on. In spite of the interest there might be in studying these personality troubles as functions of the eight dimensions enunciated by Erikson, it is more to our purpose to apply the light of what has been said about the identity crisis of the young man to a study of the problem of the novice, of his quest for identity, and of the crises which this quest may involve. Identity Crisis in the Novitiate The young man who arrives at the door of the novitiate already possesses a certain identity which is more or less well-founded. It shows itself in the choice he has made: to become a celibate instead of marrying; instead of becom-ing a doctor, engineer, or grocer, he aspires to a function in the Church. Moreover, he has chosen this particular community rather than some other. All these factors (cel-ibacy, priesthood, community) are so many aspects of the role which he wishes to play in life. Vaguely he sees him-self in the future as such and such a person, with a more or less specific function, whether it be that of preacher, pro-fessor, pastor, or diplomat attached to a nunciature. This role is the end product of the candidate's total past life, the synthesis of his previous psychic development, But after four months of ttie novitiate (the stage at which the novices who were the subject of our experiment had arrived), the ÷ ÷ ÷ Identity Crisis VOLUME 21, 1962 W. d~ Bont~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS great majority o[ novices are plunged into a more or less pronounced Crisis o[ identity. Signs oI the Crisis In the tests a considerable number of confusion symp-toms were.found, many more than in a group of students of the same age and background who were beginning their studies at a university. We cannot enter here into the more minute d~tails of these symptoms because of their too tech-nical nature; nevertheless, the following should at least be mentioned: a) The universal presence of a considerable anxiety. Anxiety is always an experience of the disintegration of the sell when old conflicts renew their attack. b) Equally striking was the great number of poor in-terpretations in the Rorschach, although they ought not to appear in a normal protocol. Even by using the Ameri-can scoring system of.Klopfer who tends to diminish their number, twenty-two out of twenty-eight novices gave them. This indicates a certain loss of contact with reality which is experienced as too hard, a retreat into phantasy which accompanies the identity crisis. c) Almost all the novices suffered from bisexual con-fusion with a reemergence of feminine traits. This was not manifested in overt sexual responses (except in two cases),, for the novitiate for the most part suppresses overt manifestations of sexuality. But it was visible, for example, in the defective sexual identifications given to the human figures on the Rorschach.cards and those of the T.A.T. (sixteen novices out of twenty-eight). d) Besides, seventeen out of twenty-eight subjects had a deficient image of their own body, according to their drawing of a human figure. This should not be surprising, for the image (more or less unconscious) we have of our own body is a visualisation of our identity. It is very sen-sitive to the influences of the environment; for example, to the interpretative power of clothing. The substitution of the religious garb, a skirt, for lay dress (masculine) has, from this point of view, a profound effect on one's sense of one's identity. "We identify ourselves with others by means of clothes. We become like them. By imitating their clothes we change our postural image of the body by taking over the postural image of others. Clothes can thu:; become a means of changing our body-image completely" (Paul Schilder, The Image and Appearance ol the Human Body [New York: International Universities Press, 1950], p. 204). The great number of deficient images of the body means that our subjects were in a siate of transition between their former identity (the "old man") and their new one. At the level of conscious behavior the crisis betrays it- self in all kinds of sentimental, per~ectionistic, depressive or even mildly paranoid traits. Brother Claude feels sad-dened by the November weather; another is not at ease working with the lay brothers in the garden; Robert thinks that his companions have something~against him when his prayer is not going well; Josephofeels depressed because he may not go out; and the imagination of John-Paul takes refuge in the past. As' for authority, almost all had a poorly balanced attitude, falling either into an exaggerated sub-missiveness or into revolt, or ifito indiscreet exercise of their own authority. Examples of these will be given later. The majority of the novices, then, manifested the two dimensions of the identity crisis which are at the heart of the religious life, for they relate to the vows of chastity and obedience: bisexual confusion and confusion with re-gard to authority. Catalysts of the Crisis The causes of the identity crisis can be summarized in this way: There is crisis, confusion, and disintegration be-cause the novitiate calls into question the initial identity with which the young man came to the novitiate. a) The young man already had a certain role in life before his entrance into the novitiate; he was president of his class, a member of Catholic Action, a well-known foot-ball player. He had a status in his environment, and be-cause of it he enjoyed the esteem of others. Entrance into the novitiate puts an end to all this. He changes his envir-onment and he must remake his reputation. Former modes of satisfaction no longer exist. A whole network of rela-tionships is broken; and it was precisely within this net-work that he found his own place, that he had realized, provisionally but really, his identity. All this he has to do over again. The impossibility of living out his identity in the old way almost inevitably causes a disintegration. The aspirations of the subject and almost their entire psychic substructure remain in suspension until they can be replaced by others or be reaffirmed. Before his novitiate Claude was in love with a some-what maternal girl who was a great help to him in his dif-ficulties. She forced him to become open, although in his own words he had tried to kill his sensitivity. She made an opening in his armor; he could communicate his ideal instead of pursuing it all alone. Separation from her at his entrance into the novitiate was difficult for him. His mem-ories of tenderness keep him alternating between melan-choly and aggressiveness. Arthur, the son of a farmer, is a young man whose strong ambition was enough to assure his success in stud-ies at the rural high school he attended, though from time to time he got on the nerves of his companions. In the ÷ ÷ VOLUME 21, 1962 ll9 novitiate he is more or less forgotten, for the smarter city boys leave him in the shadows. They take in with ease and naturalness everything that he had to fight hard for with an unremitting labor which had in turn cut him off from his modest origins. He can no longer play the role into which he had thrown all his energy. He has lost his place in society. He becomes depressed, grows still more ambi-tious in doing the Work of the novitiate, and becomes over sensitive to the least remarks of others. As for John-Paul, the role he wishes to play in life can be adequately summed up as that of an important priest, very esteemed by his people. Already at college he had to be first in the class to get admiration; and later, feeling himself crowded too closely by the other students, he plunged himself into extracurricular activities for the same reason. But the novitiate, the first step toward the realization of his identity as a priest, becomes a place of frustration and crisis. There he is far from college where he played a role of the highest rank and equally far from a friend whose affection gave him a sense of personal value. Here no one knows him. Hence his homesickness. During meditation he thinks of his friend, of past times, especially of those scenes in which he played an eminent role; or else he thinks of the future, he sees himself in the pulpit as a preacher. Evidently John-Paul is hypersensitive to the impression which he makes on the other novices; for example, in his reading at table. He takes great care with his hair, gives it a real coiffure, and contemplates himself in the mirror. b) Entry into the novitiate not only deprives the sub-ject of a part of his previous identity, but the community also wishes to change the candidate who comes to it in order to make him into a man who bears the community'.~ image and likeness; in other words, a religious with the spirit of his order. It is far from accepting the candidate as he is. The community has quite fixed ideas about what its members ought to become. Certain aspects of the nov-ice's previous identity, therefore, are necessarily destined for elimination while others must be developed to a more considerable degree. This is a changing of habits with its intellectual accompaniment--indoctrination. The conditions necessary for all indoctrination are (see Erikson, Young Man Luther [New York: Norton, 1958], p. 134): Isolation from the exterior world: family, friends, the old environment. Restriction of the sources of sensory stimulation and an immense value-increase in the power of words. The elimination of all private life, emphasis being placed on common life. Common devotion to the leaders who constitute and represent the community. The novitiate is a closed society; no influence is toler-ated there which would compromise the work of reforma-tion and indoctrination. Consequently no girls, no going out, no radio and television,.rio~,p6cket moridy~V~i~y~ ~ew visits. As for papers and magazines, only the more pious and serious ones will be allowed, In order to occupy the mind of the novice now emptied of worldly concerns, it is filled with spiritual teaching. So that he may be put on. the right road, the candidate is submitted to a daily pro-gram that is rigorous and unchanging and thateventually forms his mind as drops of water wear away stone. He is required to judge his own failings in the twice-daily ex-aminations of conscience. He may have no other company than that of the people who embody or partake of the desired ideal: the master of novices, his assistant, the other novices; there is no other model with whom he may iden-tify. The novitiate is, then, a dosed society in which the voice of indoctrination reverberates like an echo in an empty cave. For a change so profound must be brought about in the young man that once he has set out into the world upon his apostolic mission his' new identity must be the one which prevails over all previous attachments. He must himself become a representative and an incarnation of the spirit of his institute. That the "old man" feels uneasy in this hothouse should not be surprising. For example: Brother Yves states that: the isolation from people causes me some trouble, for I feel the need to be fully accepted as I am and also to be understood . My greatest fear about religious life and particularly about common life is that I may cease to be myself in order to fall into line. I fear a conformity in which all would be superficial and artificial, in which nothing would be assimilated, made per-sonal. I do not desire conformity, uniformity, stoic equanimity in my life. Here we discover an interesting difference between the two novitiates we have studied. In one, spiritual forma-tion is much more intense than in the other. The novices give reports of their spiritual progress to the master of novices, who follows and directs them very closely. The other master of novices, on the contrary, is a proponent of less exacting methods. In the "tight" novitiate, certain of the young men regressed to a point that was not reached by comparable novices in the more relaxed novitiate. Their crisis was more violent, for inevitably the less ac-ceptable aspects of their old identity were attacked with greater force. c) A third cause of the identity crisis in the novitiate ¯ comes from the fact that the previous ideas of the young man about the community of his choice are rarely real- 4. 4. 4. Identity Crisis VOLUME 21, 1962 121 ÷ ÷ ÷ 1¥. 4~ Bo~t, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 17.2 istic. Most often they are based on an idealized image of certain members of the community whom he knew before he entered either personally or through reading. He may imagine that every Franciscan is a Poverello, every Jesuit a Teilhard da Chardin, and every Dominican a Sertil-langes. He wishes to become like them. But he finds out very quickly that most of the members of the religious community are far from being the incarnation of this ideal, and then the novice frequently wonders whether his place is in the institute he has chosen, since it is of so little help to growth in his present identity. When Brother Irenaeus triumphantly ascertains that certain of the old fatheks do not practice what is demanded of the novices, his pride and his mistrust are the means by which he pro-tects his own high ideal. Francis, on the other hand, criti-cizes his fellow novices: they should be more perfect. He can't understand why they should be looking out the win-dow, why they should quarrel, or why they slip apples into their pockets after dinner to eat them in .their rooms. All this is personally disgusting to him. "If they entered religion to act like that . " And he is sorry that "medi-ocrity is not only found in the world, but also in the cloister." His excessive criticism is a means of defending himself against the temptation to do what they are doing, a temp-tation which is inadmissible because of a too rigid con-science. d) Finally, most communities have a great number of ministries to perform. It is often the decision of superiors which determines what role will later be assigned to the novice; whether he will be a missionary, a professor of apologetics, a parish priest, a teacher of the young, or the treasurer of the house. For one who has set his heart on the role of missionary, for example, obedience may create from the novitiate on a climate of uncertainty, a doubt about the possibility of realizing his role in life, his iden-tity. For we must not forget that one's identity is a synthe-sis of all one's previous development and hence it is not changed as one changes clothes. The novice ought, never-theless, to leave himself open to the possibility that the vow of obedience may make altogether a different thing of his life than what he thought. So it is that John-Paul wonders whether his superiors will let him go to the mis-sion where "the pagans, once converted to the faith of the gospel, will know better than the people of this coun-try the value of a priest." For he seeks everywhere the love and security he has up till now not found, and it was this quest which impelled him toward the priesthood. These four inevitable factors provoke an identity crisis in the novice which can go just "short of psychotic dis-sociation" (Erikson, Young Man Luther, op. cit., p. 134). This is a kind of fragmentation of the ego, a breakdown of the personality synthesis in a clash with the new en-vironment. The breach which the impact of this environ-ment makes in the synthesis is always located at its weakest point; that is, in certain conflicts Of the past Which Were poorly dealt with. In this serise,, the novitiate,brlngg .OUt the worst in oneself; the combined pressure of competition, adaptation to the level of the environment and the very rigid mode of life causes even the smallest weakness in the identity of the novice to burst fortl~. Beginners' Faults as Dimensions of the Crisis We can now parallel" the faults of beginners with Erik-son's eight dimensions of the identity crisis; for, according to our thesis, these faults are their equivalents in the re-ligious domain. As a matter of fact, it is not only the sogial life of the candidate which is troubled, but his spiritual life; all the more so since this constitutes the principal content of the life of the group and its members. We re-peat, we are studying the spiritual life here only under its psychological aspect and not at all under its theological aspect. a) Loss of perspective, the first of the dimensions of the identity crisis, betrays itself on the spiritual plane by a lack of patience, by a failure to apprehend that religious development has both its heights and its depths as does any other human evolution. This quest for the immediate is evident in spiritual gluttony and in its counterpart, dis-taste for spiritual realities when they do not procure a sensible satisfaction. It is equally to be found in those who wish. to push precipitously ahead. In his spiritual life Brother Mark seeks the love and consolation he did not receive enough of when he was little. In high school he created an environment for him-self which answered more or less adequately to his needs. But the change of environment deprives him of this sup-port and obliges him.to seek it elsewhere, in God. He seeks "the divine presence, a mysterious presence which I try to locate in myself without success. Each of my members dis-covers new sensations at this moment.". But when the quest does not succeed, "I feel a kind of di~sgust without reason or apparent motive. At such times Jesus does not seem to satisfy me; I thirst for something else too vague to be men-tioned or clearly defined." For Andrew, the need to rush ahead and a false apostolic zeal arose when common life and the demands of the no-vitiate for a change in his habits simultaneously reinforced a precocious superego and the unacceptable impulseg he was trying to harness] The unrealistic demands proper to these last two "imperfections" cause this novice not to feel at home with his less demanding comrades and his father ÷ ÷ ÷ Identity Crisis VOLUME 21~ 1962 ÷ W. de Bont, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS master who are themselves far from accepting with benev-olence this excess of zeal. To novices who have such difficulties the religious com-munity provides a helpful balancing factor in the per-spective of the future it opens to them. They are told of the various stages of the spiritual life; in the religious life there is a step-by-step education over several years (no-vitiate, philosophical and theological studies, ordina-tion.). There is a daily program set up in detail and firmly enforced. Finally, the candidate is promised cer-tain success in this world or in the next if he perseveres. b) Lack of assurance manifests itself in all those im-perfections which seek to hide certain defects by an im-moderate reaction: excessive shame for faults, a too literal adherence to the rules, indiscrete mortifications. Two ex-amples have already been given (B~'others Irenaeus and Francis). The novitiate offers the novices a provisional protection against their initial clumsiness in the unifor-mity it imposes in observances, clothing, spirituality. With this protection the novice is able to regain little by little the confidence in himself which was upset by the causes listed above. c) Pusillanimity in the spiritual life can be considered a failure to experiment with various roles; and certain forms of jealousy (of the progress of others) and of hypo-chondria (in connection with fasting, for example) can be considered as derivatives of Oedipal conduct. So it was that Henry, who was not able to identify with his dead father in order to attain, at least in his imagination, a superiority over his brothers which would give him a spe-cial title to the love of fiis mother, wished to carry on his apostolate in such a way that "after my departure people will forget completely that I was ever around, and that it was I who handled mattersY Fearing competition he does not dare to push himself forward. By always doing exacdy as the others, by effacing himself, he denies that he is dif-ferent, jealous, guilty of favoritism. In this case, the novitiate tries above all to encourage him to attempt one role, that of the apprentice religious. The novitiate is nothing else but an initiation into this role, begun with the taking of the habit as an exterior sign of the status which will be had henceforth in the com-munity and continued every day in the life of the novice. d) Paralysis about work clearly reveals itself in the dif-ficulties which the novice has from time to time in his spirit.ual exercises, meditation, examination of conscience, recitation of the Breviary. For Henry, for example, exami-nations of conscience remain at the surface of his person-ality. He fears lest his jealousy and anxiety come to the surface. Religious educators do everything in the noviti- ate to allow positive fulfillment, by teaching the novice suitable methods for achieving success in this domain. e) Lack of identity or confusion of roles manifests itself in a vague feeling of not b.eing at home in the novitiate, by nostalgia for the past, by the impo.ssibility of finding a place and a role in the communi~y: Examples Were" given above. The novitiate seeks to remedy this by encouraging the recruit to identify with his community by proposing to him in an exclusive way the spirit of the congregation or the order. f) Bisexual confusion manifests itself by all sorts of dif-ficulties with sex: the sexualization of religious life, for example, in sexual impulses at the moment of communion or confession; in particular friendships unddr the cloak of a spiritual relationship; in scruples about ~bad thoughts." Brother Guy, for example, transfers to Christ and St. John his tender feelings about a friend whom he has left in the world: You must have embraced very tenderly, as gently as do two beloved people spontaneously when one has acquired the other's special admiration; when one wishes to protest more deeply his profound joy in and friendly respect for the other. I would have liked to spend with the two of you those long evenings beneath the stars, as I had the happiness to spend them with James, speaking no doubt of Your ambitions, become those of Jol~n s~nce You loved him so tenderly, and he loved You. This transfer is meant to fill the void left by the impos-sibility of continuing an earthly friendship. What the novice should learn here, with the help of his spiritual director, is to renounce the exercise of his sex-ual faculty while at the same time .developing his manli-ness. This is impossible unless this renunciation is in-spired by valid and for the most part conscious motives ("for the kingdom.of God'i)and as little as possible af-fected by fear, shame, distaste, or guilt. g) The lack of reasonable attitudes with respect to au-thority is expressed by a crowd of symptoms: an extrava-gant docility, revolt against authority, a kind of freezing up in relations with superiors; too great a zeal to convert others where the aim is much more to resolve one's own problems than to help one's neighbor. 'Michael, for ex-ample, is so docile as to worry the master of novices some-what. He wants to be told what to do; he never resists; he has the spirit of. sacrifice; anything may be asked of him. If he is nettled, he gives a start and then merely smiles. His spiritual ideal is~ complete abandonment to God. He wishes to forget himself in order to be concerned only for God and His interests. Michael is a young man Whose mother thwarted him in his desire :for masculine inde-pendence. At the conscious level he submitted but uncon-sciously he rebelled against her. In the novitiate obedience 4. 4. Identity Crisis 1~5 4- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is a most important matter and there are very few possi-bilities for aggressivity (for example, sports) left open to him. His problem, then, is accentuated. It may be under-stood, then, that for him God and the master of novices are conceived after the image of his mother. Peter's sense of his priestly mission still has "some end other than a supernatural one." The reason for this is that by a slightly megalomaniac identification with pater-nal authority, of which he makes himself the prophet, he is protecting himself against a feeling of persecution. The image he has of his father is split into two, and his feelings are equally divided. Everything good about his father is projected into God, everything bad into the devil. Accord-ingly, to save the world by his apostolate means in fact to preserve the connection with the good parent (God) and to eliminate the bad (the devil). Since the novitiate is a completely masculine society and at the 'same time by it.~ nature demands obedience, it further accentuates the con. flicts about sexuality and authority which underlie thi:~ apostolic identity (according to psychoan.alytic theory, the paranoid personality is rooted in homosexualized relation-ships with the father, the representative of authority in the family); but at the same time it makes the experience o[ the apostolate impossible for the time being. One may not go out during .the novitiate, and so the balance of forces in Peter is upset. The master of novices will have the difficult task of teaching the novices the just mean between the docility of a sheep and revolt at the barricades, as in the case of the novice who barricaded his door when the superior knocked to get him to rise (he always got up late). To give the novices certain opportunities for leadership frora the novitiate on may contribute to the development of the orientation which is desirable in this domain. h) Finally, a confusion of ideals is the most obvious thing about the novices who do not yet know whether they want to stay or leave the novitiate to return to the world or who hesitate to choose among several communities, Brother Mark has grave doubts about his perseverance because he is torn between a "worldly" past made entic-ing by the admiration he commanded at school and tile frustrations of his present conventual life caused by the lack of tenderness and esteem received from others. Spir-itual training here seeks to take away all ambivalence by presenting the novice with the ideology of his order and excluding all other ideologies (newspapers are ban-ishedl). A certain simplification results from this which sometimes becomes a caricature; one novice will think he is living the "pure gospel" because he walks .around in sandals as the apostles did; another will think he has found the perfect balance between contemplation and action because in his community Compline is sung in common before sleep. When the new identity of the nov-ice is sufficiently established, this simplification will no longer be necessary. Psychologically speaking, the faults of beginners are merely attempts to maintain'. Or to reestablish 15rovision-ally the psychic equilibrium which has been upset by the impact of the environment, an impact which has struck the novice at the weakest points of his former identity. As Father Mailloux has said, they are not "typically pathological reactions per se, but rather.irrational modes of expression, upon which the psychic apparatus will normally fall back whenever an individual is unable to cope with a stressful situation in some rational man-ner" (Rev. Noel Mailloux, O.P., "Sanctity and the Prob-lem of Neurosis," Pastoral Psychology, 10 [February, 1959], 40). For in successful cases the novice readjusts; he incorporates the identity elements offered him by the religious environment into the best which his identity al-ready has and gets rid of the less acceptable elements. Having provoked the crisis, a well-directed novitiate helps also to heal it. And once the adaptation is made and the novice has regained his place, this time in the community of his choice, his beginner's faults disappear like hay fever when the season has passed. In less successful cases, there is a failure. Concord be-tween' the identity of the novice and the demands or the support of the environment remains impossible: The reasons may come from two quarters: a lack of flexibility in the subject consequent upon an identity too charged with conflict as with the brother of the barricades cited above who left his community a little later,, or on the part of the community which is unable to Offer the novice the place which he seeks for his gifts and his particular abilities as in that sufficiently large novitiaite where .eighty percent of the novices left because of a master of novices still living spiritually in the nineteenth' century. The shock was the greater for them as their previous educa-tion was the more liberal. Conclusion We have studied in this article the psychological side of this night of the senses which the novitiate arouses by its very nature. By uprooting the candidate from his for-mer environment, it deprives him of the support which his identity enjoyed before in order to invite him to a higher spiritual balance. Our perspective, it is true, has been a restricted one; we have described only what the novitiate may have in common with any identity crisis studied by the psychologist. On this plane, the crisis of the novice resembles that of a young man who prepares 4. ÷ Identity Crisis VOLUME 21, 1962 W. de Bo~t, 0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]28 himself for army service at West Point, or who leaves hi.q small-town home to go to a large, university--although course the crisis has a different content according as concerns military formation, the situation of a student, or religious training---celibacy and examinations of con-science do not figure largely in a military perspective. For methodological reasons we have left aside that which con~ .stitutes the very essence of the life of the novitiate: the introduction to the life of consecration to God to which by His grace He has invited the novice. It is this properly spiritual aspect which masters of novices are best ac-quainted with, and they can guide themselves in this by a solidly established spiritual theology. Our only inten-tion has been to draw their attention to the psychological side of this introduction to sanctity, a side which it 'is better not to be totally ignorant of. The "follies" of nov-ices should not be seen as faults which are exclusively in the moral order, as pride, for example, considered as the capita) sin. There is question rather of provisional, and unsuccessful efforts to adapt oneself to a new situation; hence they are normal phenomena which always arise under one form or another when a man must remake the synthesis of his personality. Nevertheless, they are real difficulties and not imaginary, often very painful for the subject who undergoes them and annoying for those around him. The wisdom of an alert master of novices will assuage much of this human pain, and this the more so as he knows better the identity of the novice in ques. tion, with its strong points and its weak. This present article is limited to describing the iden-tity crisis of the novice. It does not pretend to furnish the elements of a possible prognostication. If almost all nov, ices undergo this crisis in some degree or other, how, among so many of the "imperfect," can those who will persevere be singled out from those who will leave or merely mark time for the rest of their lives? This is an important question, for the novitiate terminates with a profession which, even though it be temporary, repre-sents a real and very profound commitment. Certain re-marks of St. John of the Cross (Dark Night, 1, 9) coukl provide us with a point of departure for such a consid- ¯ eration; but this task must be reserved to a later article. PAUL W. O'BRIEN, S.J. Introducing the Young Sister to Prayer One of the problems facing the young sister is learning to pray. She h~is probably been pra

Issue 13.5 of the Review for Religious, 1954. ; Review for Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1954 Study and the Spiritual Life . John R. Post The World Around Us . John H. Ziegler Pilgrims on theRoad to Love . George Byrne Secular Institutes . Francls N. Korfh Book Reviews Questions and Answers Quinquennial Report VOLUMI~ XIII NUMBER 5 RI::VII::W FOR RI:LI IOUS VOLUME XIII SEPTEMBER, 1954 NUMBER 5 CONTENTS BLENDING STUDY WITH THE SPIRITUAL LIFE--John R. Post, S.d. 225 OUR ADDRESSES . 233 THE WORLD AROUND US--John H. Ziegler, C.S.P . 234 COMMUNICATIONS . 239 FOR YOUR INFORMATION . 240 PILGRIMS ON THE ROAD TO LOVE--George Byrne, S.J .2.4.1 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 244 SECULAR INSTITUTES: SOME QUESTIONS--Francis N. Korth, S.2J.45 PAMPHLETS . , . . . 250 MARIAN YEAR PLAY . 250 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT (By Nonfederated Autonomous Houses and Monhsterles) . 251 REGIONAL CONFERENCES AND WORKSHOPS .2.6.9 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 26. Little Office during Mass . 270 27. Confession without Verbal Act of Contrition . 270 28. Drinking Water before Communion . 271 29. Confession before Communion . 271 30. Communion when Mortal Sin is Doubtful . 272 BOOK REVIEWS-- The N~w Testament; The Church and Infallibility; Mary in Our Life . 273 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 278 NOTICE FOR PUBLISHERS . 280 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1954. Vol. XIII, No. 5. Published bi-monthly : January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter ,lannary 15, 1942, at the Post Office, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. E!lard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, S.J. Copyright, 1954, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us. please consult notice on Inside back cover. / Blending St:udy wit:h t:he Spiri!:ual Lit:e John R. Post, S.J. MANY young religious who are preparing for the priesthood must spend eigh~ or ten years in the quiet of a seminary be-fore they are confronted with actual work for souls. During that time they look forward with great eagerness to a busy minis-try; but when it comes, it often comes with something of a shock to their interior life. Why is this? The answer seems to be that now for the first time they have had to face up to the age-old problem of blending the active with the contemplative life. A certain amount of shock from this problem is inevitable, as it is in every new ex-perience to be worked out by themselves; but some help can be given them to soften the shock if during their seminary days they are taught to solve another problem, or rather, the same problem on a smaller scale, namely, how to blend the life of study with the spir-itual life. One young student, for instance, finds himself in this frame of mifid: in the morning he offers up to God all his p~ayers, works (studies included), and sufferings, and then is content if during the day he can keep his life of study from interfering with his life of prayer. The most he asks is that study and prayer just keep running in parallel lanes like two runners on a track. Another sees the pursiait of knowledge as a help to perfection, and'so, being a sensible religious, he determines to make the two desires fuse or blend into one organic whole. With him the life of study and the life of prayer, while really distifict, penetrate and help each other just as the soul does the body. T, he second theory will be explained in this article, which, though tailored to suit the'cleric, can, it is hoped, with a tuck and a hem be made to fit the student sister and brother as well. As with the problem of the active ministry, sb too here, the so-lution lies in the interpenetration of motives. In the years of for-mation the young men must learn two things: first, to study their Latin and Greek, their philosophy and theology, with an earnest intention of progressing in the service of God; then, to pray with an ardent desire to advance in the studies in which they are engaged. For, although the time set aside for spiritual duties is generally dis- 225 JOHN R. POST Review for Religious tinct from that given to studies, still the service of God should be made the predominant and actual motive in both. The theory, then, can be summed up in two phrases of St. Ignatius: "Let [scho-lastics] strive to have a right intention in their studies".and. "in their prayers let them frequently beg for the grace of knowl-edge." That is the theory, but some eager student might ask: "How in practice would you go about preparing an assignment in G~:eek or theology and at the same time maintain this right intention? In other words, tell us how each particular branch of our studies can be made.to help our spiritual lives and how our spiritual lives can at the same time help our studies." This is a rather large order, but let me try to fill it. To begin with, then, in practice a man blends his studies with his spiritual life simply by choosing a virtuous intention to keep working in class or at his desk. Seize upon some honest motive or motives from the many that are available, let those motives draw your mind into the heart of the matter and keep it there, and they will turn that hour of class or study into an hour of obedience, of zeal for souls, or of any other virtue. Some motives, it is true, are higher and more meritorious than others; some are more effective in stimulating the desire to learn; but every intention, provided it be virtuous and supernatural, is a "right intention" in the sense in which spiritual writers use the expression. And this leads to the consideration of a most fundamental and essential virtue in the whole life of study--the virtue of studiositas. St. Thomas, who ought to know, defines studiositas, or zeal for knowledge, as a moral virtue which stimulates and controls a man's curiosity. According to him a student, to be a student at all, must be curious. He must come to his books hungry to learn, with a hun-dred questions in his mind begging to be answered. "How did Cicero and St. 3erome express a concessive clause in Latin? What is that slight difference in meaning between quarnquarn and quarnois? I wonder how this particular clause in English would look dressed up in perfect Latin idiom." And so on and so on. These are the questions real students of Latin ask themselves, ask their books and the teachers because they want to know. It is studiositas, then, that makes the life of sudy. Other higher and more supernatural motives may be used to elevate this virtue, but none can take its place. No one can be a student without it. St. Thomas Aquinas, who was 226 September, 1954 STUDY AND SPIRITUAL LIFE both saint and scholar, prayed God to keep this natural curiosity of his ever alive. "Grant, I beseech Thee, O merciful God, that I may ardently desire, prudently inquire, .truthfully understand and per-fectly fulfill what is pleasing to Thee." These last words of the saint give us a glimpse into his inner life and show us how he blended his life of studies with his spiritual life. "May I ardently desire . . . what is pleasing to Thee." Thomas Aquinas, prince and patron of all students, was first of all as curi-ous as ever a man could be, curious about Aristotle and Cicero, about the nature of man and the world about him. And he never lost his curiosity. His Summa Tbeotogica alone contains some 4,000 questions. Yet, his natural love for knowledge was con-trolled and intensified, not lessened, by his love for the will of God declared to him by his superiors. "May I ardently desire . . . what is pleasing to Thee," he says. Besides the motive of stddiositas, therefore, two other motives attracted him to his studies, the motives of obedience and 'of charity. He was curious first because he natu-rally loved the truth which he found in a book of Aristotle; and he became more curious because he knew that God wanted him to study this book of Aristotle; and most curious because he knew that he would please God by studying Aristotle. By these means, then, his study became triply fascinating to St. Thomas. Two high motives drawn from his spiritual life combined with a natural motive and all three blending together drew his mind to the study of one and the same work. So, the blending of which we speak is the blending of a supernatural desire, or desires, with the natural desire of studiositas. The motives of obedience and charity, which we have just toudhed upon, are, I suppose, the easiest for the average religious to manage throughout his course and at the same time the most meri-torious. Another which can blend with all branches of his study is the motive for zeal for souls. In all the studies which the Church has arranged with admirable foresight and wisdom, there is a verti-cal intention which looks up from the different subjects to be studied, rising step by step from the elements of Latin and Greek grammar right up to theology, and based on the following chain of reasoning: the better prepared I am in the,lower subjects, the better grasp will I also have of sacred doctrine and so be the better equipped to preach the word of God to others. This is one way of looking at the course and drawing from the apostolate at the top a greater attraction for all the studies which lead up to it. But, even on the lower levels-- 227 JOHN R. POST Ret~iew /'or Religious that is to say," while one is studying Latin and Greek and philosophy --there is room for a horizontal intention of putting this very matter to good use for souls. I mean the apostolate of the class-room. In teaching orders especially, in which a large percentage of each province is engaged in the work of education, superiors and students alike are forced to think of their houses of study as normal schools and of the time of studies as a period of training for future teachers and professors. The novice who is studying the different uses of the Greek dative should remind himself that he may be teaching that very same lesson one day in any one of the order's schools. Students of the humanities and of philosophy will be given greater motivation if they are told from time to time how many of their religious brethren are teaching those subjects in the colleges. Theologians know that every priest is teaching theology in one way or another, either in the classroom, or in the pulpit or in the confessional. Thus, the teaching vocation provides a specia! in-centive for applying oneself with greater vigor to that part of the course in which one is now engaged. At this point I would like to pause and answer a question that must be bothering the reader as all these different motives (and we haven't come to the end of them yet) are being passed in review be-fore him. The quesion might be phrased as follows: How is it pos-sible to keep all these motives in mind at once? To increase in knowledge, to obey God, to please God, to teach others--how can one manage them psychologically? The answer is that is one is not obliged to use them all. To blend a life of study with the spiritual life, only two are required, the motive of studiositas and one other. But, if. others are used, only that of studiositas is to be kept in the front of the mind, while the others are lined up behind it as ulterior motives--just as in arranging a hand of cards you keep only one in the foreground in full view while all the others are held behind it peeking out a little over the edge. Does that mean that God will have to "take a back seat" to ablative absolutes or ens ut sic? Yes, at least while one is studying ablative absolutes or ens ut sic. Or, to put it another way, God Himself tells you to study and.by so doing He "takes a back seat" for Himself, always continuing, however, to occupy the first place in your heart. Study of the Humanities The study of the humanities presents its own peculiar motive to the religious who is engaged in it, a motive which, if employed with 228 September, 1954 STUDY ~.ND SPIRITUAL LIFE care and discretion, can give to his spiritual life a greater depth and breadth than it ever bad before. This motive is found in the word humanitas, for, as I see it, the purpose .of all classical studies in Latin, Greek, and English is to increase and intensify ar sense of kin-ship between the student and all the other members of the human family. Thus, with his symiJathetic understanding broadened and deepened and his sensibilities more refined, he can more easily respond to motives of faith which teach him to love all men in Christ and for Christ. As is~ clear from looking at ourselves, not all men are saints. The exercises of the novitiate may lead religious to expect too much of their fellow men. From reading the, lives of the saints and the ways of reaching sanctity they can acquire a partial, not a total view of life. Spiritual theology is likely to idealize and adorn too much. Philosophy, on the other hand, strips life of its warmth and color. History and literature, correcting the other two views, show us human beings as they are. They show us man as the "noble, lawless savage" that Newman speaks of, "whose morals find interests are disfigured and perverted by all the imperfections of passion, 'folly and ambition." So, we must not expect from litera-ture any more than it in'tends to teach us, or any more than we can reasonably expect to find in nature itself, whose mirror it aims to be, and certainly we must not expect to find in it a guide to (he highest sanctity. We have that in Christ and in the Church. "It is the business of art and literature," as Fleckner says, "not to save men's souls, but to make them more worth the saving." The most literature intends to teach us, then, is that human nature with all its faults is very lovable in itself. Then, after viewing its faults through the medium of literature, we ourselves can reason to the great need nature always had, and still has, for the redeeming grace of Jesus Christ. Outside the monastery walls, for instance, it is a very human thing for a young man to fail in love. Men are like that. And so Shakespeare enters into the heart of one of them and gives us his Romeo in all the pangs of love-sickness, saying: "See how she leans her cheek upon that hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That l might touch that cbeek t."" That hand, he says, and that cheek, as if there were no others in 229 JOHN R. POST Review [or Religious the world. But, there are no others for Romeo. Isn't that ~he way lovers act? Isn't it human for young men to "moon" that way. Shakespeare has caught this universal trait, loved it, and invited us to love it too. It is also very human for men who have done great things for their country to take compl~acency in it, and so we sense something of our own humanity in every speech of Cicero as he struts across the floor of the Senate letting men know how lucky they are to have him as consul. Yet, boastful as Cicero is, his love for his friends and his family, his loyalty to Rome and hatred for all corruption give us an example of a very noble Roman. Achilles, the greatest warrior of them all, pouts in his tent before the walls of Troy when his prize is taken from him. Antigone has become for all time the personification of sisterly affection, just as Hecuba has of aged grief, and Aeneas of filial piety. Now, the Church thinks that it .will be good for the future priests to realize how many different kinds of souls it takes to make up the human race, and to know them and love them for what they are. We know from faith that they are lovable for a higher reason, but lit-erature teaches us that they are also lovable for the basic humanity that is in them, that image of God, warped and twisted by human passion in a way that is so much like our own. So, the special pur-pose put before the student of literature, and the one he should grasp and blend with the others, may be summed up in one phrase-- to love human beings. Motioes for Studying Philosophy The subject of philosophy, too, is not without its intrinsic motives which can be made to blend with the spiritual life. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," says Hamlet: but, we might add, not many more. For philosophy is the study of all things knowable according to their ultimate causes. The matter of philosophy, therefore, in-cludes the world, the nature of man, and even the very being of God, as far as these things can be known by the light of reason. In natural theology, for instance, students are taught to prove the. ex-istence of God and His attributes, and how all things come from Him by creation, are kept in existence by His conservation and con-' currence, and finally have Him for their ultimate purpose. In this whole field no religious who has ever made the Spiritual Exercises can fail to see the very subject matter of the Foundation and the Contemplation to Obtain Divine Love. Moreover, the laws of 230 September, 1954 STUDY AND SPIRITUAL LIFE thought which God has implanted in our intellect, and the laws of conduct in our will, the nature 6f the human soul, its origin and its destiny are treated of in logic, ethics, and psychology. That such knowledge can, and should be, of immense profit to a religious in acquiring a more intimate knowledge of himself goes without saying. But, apart from this bearing of philosophy on his own personal life, it is in this branch of his studies that the student is forging some of his strongest weapons for his future apostolate. It is agreed, I think, by Catholic apologists that the most dangerous at-tacks on the faith today come .from ~hilosophical quarters, and hence they must be met with philosophical weapons. The Church is assailed by the false doctrines of Communism, of the rights of the state in education; she has to meet the ~rguments of those who would justify birth control and so-called mercy killing: she has to be able to give the answers to so many who question her about the very existenc~ of God and the immortality of the soul. And all of these questions have their answers--solid, reasonable answers-- in Scholastic. philosophy. Knowing this, then, a young religious would be foolish and failing in his duty if he did not study his phi-losophy with the idea of defending the Church in this all-important field. Motives For Studgin9 Theologg It takes little effort to understand how the study of theology, which is the science of God, can have a stimulating effect on the spiritual life of a theologian. The reason is that the subject matter of theology is exactly the same as the matter of our prayer and the interior life. All that God has revealed about Himself and about His plans for the sanctification of the world, all that one needs to know, and more than one needs to know, by way of credenda and agenda, to make one a saint is presented to us over a period of four years in lectures and books, arranged according to the most scientific system of thought yet devised. Treatises on the Unity and Trinity of God; treatises on God as Creator and Redeemer; treatises on the Incarnate God, Jesus Christ, and the mysteries of His life; a treatise on the Blessed Mother of God: treatises on God's ways of drawing men to Himself by means of grace and the sacraments; the Church of God and the four last things; the laws of God and of the Church --- each and every one of these subjects speaks to us of God . . . God ¯ . . God. Theology is the science of God. We must not conclude, however, that classes in theology are 231 30HN R. POST Reoiew ~or Religious meant to be spiritual exhortations. Thgy are not. Moreover, some of the theses may seem as lacking in warmth as mathematics: but like mathematids, they are necessary to show the strength and logic of the system. The hnowledye of God, then, not the love of Him, is the immediate object of theology--clear, solid, profound knowledge based on divine revelation. But since knowledge prepares for love, one's knowledge of God cannot help but prepare his soul for acts of the theological virtues of faith, hope, and ch;irity, not only during the times of formal prayer, but also during class as one listens to professors expounding the sacred doctrine and in one's roo~m when one can delve into the depths of Sdripture and tradition for oneself. That is why St. Augusti.ne likens the students of the-ology to the contemplative Mary who sat at the feet of desus listen-ing to His words. "Let them choose for themselves the better part," he says, "which shall not be taken from them, and let them give themselves up to the word, drink in eagerly the sweetness of doc-trine, and be taken up with the science of salvation." One of the aims of this article has, I hope, been achieved. It was to explain how in practice the life of studies can be made to help the spiritual life throughout the course. To this end some of the super-natural mo'tives or desires which can be blended with the natural desire of studiositas have been developed in detail. And doubtless there are others. One can, for instance, find great inspiration in studying out of gratitude to his own order, or out of reparation to the Sacred Heart. This last becomes especially valuable when the studies appear to be difficult or dull. But, those intentions we have discussed show at least how one can go about supernaturalizing his study habits right from the beginning of the course. Using the motives of studiositas, obedience, charity, and zeal for souls, ,which are common to every branch of knowledge, a student can also apply himself to the humanities because he wants to deepen his love for his fellow man, to philosophy to help him d~efend the Church, and to the61ogy because he wants to increase his faith, hope, and love of God. Entering upon his studies with any or all of these motives the young levite will turn his hours of class and study into exercises of the spiritual life and win great merit for himself, the merit of these lofty virtues. Nothing remains now but the easy task of pointing out how a young man's life of prayer can be made to help his life of study. In a perfect blending of the two it is clear that each must contribute 232 September, 1954 STUDY AND SPIRITUAL LIFE something to the other; and if, by means of the lot:ty mqtives we have just described, one's study-life has been turned into an instru-ment of the highest virtue, does it not seem just that in times of prayer a religious should make some return and beg of God the grace of making greater progress in his studies? He knows that grace is necessary for every supernatural work, and the more supernatural, it is, the more grace is needed. As he tries, therefore, to manage the higher motives in his study, it becomes increasingly clear that, al, though'we apply ourselves to the lesson in Greek or philosophy, still it is God who must give the increase. Moreover, when we plead with God to increase our spirit of curiosity or to give us a more re-tentive memory, we are asking Him only for what He Himself de-sires. St. John Damascene defines prayer as "the petition of fitting things from God." What can be more fitting, or more in accordance with God's will, than th~it a student, should make progress in his studies? If God asks every religious in his years of formation to strive seriously and eonstantly to acquire a mastery of his subject, surely He cannot take it amiss or accuse us of bringing in distractions if we beg Him now and then in our colloquies to assist us in carry-ing out" His own will, especially if the fulfillment of His will re-dounds so much to the defense of the t:aith, the spread of Catholi~ education, and the sanctification of .our own souls. This was done byi.St. Thomas, as we have seen. One's examination of conscience, toO, can be made to serve the cause of study by keeping a careful watch over one's motives and nourishing the solid habits of indus-try, ~bedience, and the others. And thus it will come about that by." a sort of interpenetration our studies will help our prayer and our prayer will help our studies, and both, thus joined toge~her, will bring ~:orth much fruit--in the spirit of the saints--to the greater glory of God. OUR ADDRESSES We have three different addresses. It would~ help considerably if all who com-municate with us would note them: 1. Bdsiness communications, sfich" as subscriptions, renewals, etc., should be sent to: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison St., Topeka, Kansas. 2. Books for review should be sent to: Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. 3. All other editorial communications, such as manuscripts, questions, letters for\publication, etc., should be sent to: The Editors, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS" St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 233' The World Around Us John H. Ziegler, C.S.P. THE families and friends of religious continually have to make lightning-like mental adjustments when conversing with Father Luke, Brother Bede, or Sister Mary Francis. Blithely we speak of a joke heard in the "common room," of having to at- ~end."particular examen," or of being assigned a new "obedience" next week--all terms capable of various interpretations besides the consecrated meanings we have attached to them. Most mysterious of all, however, must be our use of "the .world." When heard for the first time from young, red-cheeked Frater Paul, a statement like "I used to play left end for Catholic CentraE but that was before I left the world," could give some unititiated layman the eerie sensa-tion of being in the presence of a departed soul--appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. Occasionally too we are guilty of downright equivocation when referring to "the world," thereby indreasing our chances of being misunderstood. In one sense we left the world as soon as we" begin to live in a religious house, free from such worldly ways as catching [he 8:20 bus to work every' mornin'g and saving to buy a spring hat br a new pair of shoes. That world, however, is not in itself the world which hates Christ nor that which the spiritual writers un-animously warn us to shun under pain of losing our souls. "Our parents, to whom above all others under God we owe our vocations, live or lived in that world, along with countless other lay Catholics whose solid goodness we dare not question. In another sense, of course, there is "the world" which we as well as all Christians mdst renounce, the world which is its own idol, the world which makes of pleasure, power, and wealth the supreme goals of living. This world the religious not only leaves, but in doing so burns his bridges behind him so to speak by ceding to God his legitimate" rights tb use what the worldlings abuse. Hence it is always dangerous and some- ~:imes sinful to return to this seductive world even in our thotights and imaginings. But to dwell occasionally upon the present condi-tion of other men and women living in that world of cares and iinxieties from which mercifully we are sheltered can be very profit-able. Never to do so 'may even be to risk emotional immaturity,, a 234 THE WORLD AROUND US serious if not fatal flaw in a religious. For, although at first it sounds shocking, we can indeed learn much from the world. For example, our self-complacency shatters into a million pieces at the thought of how many good, prayerful, mortified people there are who have no title but Miss, Mr., or Mrs. At five in the morning the jangling of a lone alarm clock strikes the ear no more pleasant!y than the clanging of a bell or a throaty "Benedicamus Domino." Yet there are lay Catholics who rise at such an hour, say morning prayers, and set out for Mass in the nearest church. Perhaps they have had a full-night's sleep, perhaps they have been up and down half a dozen times with a restless child or a sick husband or wife. Others, particularly young women who work in offices, attend a noonday Mass during their lunch hour and receive Holy Commun-ion- which meant before the new Eucharistic fast regulations that they had been pounding a typewriter for three or four hours without so much as a sip of water. Man.y say their rosary daily; some steady old breadwinners have spent a few minutes before the Blessed Sac- .rament on their way home from work every day for years. These are by no means all the Catholics living in the world, not even the majority; but the point is that these few pray and sacrifice regularly or~ their own, without our schedule and rule, without the support and good example of our religious brethren, without, yes, the leisure time for prayer afforded us by our state of life. In the parable it was the servant who received only one talent and buried it unprofitably who was so severely reprimanded and punished. We shtidder.to think how severe would ~ave been the condemnation of the servant who received five talents if he had not made good use of them ! Paradoxically, it may also help us to be better religious to recall at times how many bad people there are in the world, crude, cruel, sensual, selfish people whom we seldom meet even in our apostolic contacts. How trifling the annoying faults of our confreres seem beside the gross wickedness of many who pass as respectable in the wgrld. Day in and day out, for instance, fine Catholic men and w,gmen must shut their ears against the flood of foul talk,~which sv~.irls around.workbenches and desks in, the,places they-~are~employed a demorali.zin.g source~ of temptation vce are spared. They must e~i~rn a living.ami~o fierce and often, unethical competition where it is every man for himself. Admittedly that blustering member c~f the. local community who somehow irritates us may not yet have at- 235 JOHN I-~. ZIEGLER Reolew [or Religious tained the highest reaches of humility and charity, but in 6ur .heart we can always be sure that 'if we w~r'e hungry, or sick, or in distress of any kind, he or she would be among the first to come to our aid no matter what the cost. :"' Speaking of per~gnality clashes and apparent lncompat~blhty agwe l~tbel it today, it would be enormously na'ive to suppose that these are restricted to convents and monasteries. Most religious had the good fortune to grow up in homes where father and mother settled their differences amicably and pulled together. Unfortun-ately this is not a universal pattern. The eloquent instruction be-fore marriage used in this country reminds the couple that "the fu,~ ture, with its hopes and disappoint .m. ents, its successes and its fail'- U~es, ii~s pleasures and its pains, its joys and its sorrows" is hidden from their eyes.' Often enough that" future soon reveals itself to be ¯ a bitter disappointment when one or the other partner under the stress of married and family life sho, ws up as a spiteful, unbending, irresponsible person.,. The ea~.y arid 15o, pular way out leads to a divorce court. But eyery parish priest knows of more than one case of sheer heroism on the part of a husband or wife who for years has ~t~d up under this cross rather than renege on a sacred promise and break up a home. So when we find the company of Father Glum oi Sister Garrhlous especially trying, our supernatural charity towards them will be no less meritorious and may even be more effective if we realize that since the fall of Adam human relations have been'an ifi-escapable problem for everybody. Enlarging our horizons and having a world vision can:in many. ways be a tonic to our sometimes sluggish spiritual lives. It is, we must never forget, our world since by .entering the common life we do not and in fact cannot resign from membership in the human race[ Moreover, our apostolic vocation compels us to see in every sinner a potential saint, and without indulging in the dubious esti-mate Of our age as the most wicked in history, we can safely say that objectively at least innumerable mortal sins are being committed. How puny and cowardly do our sacrifices appear against such a backdrop! Listlessly we dally over hundreds of opportunities to merit graces for the spiritually underprivileged while whole nations fall away from God. While Rome burns--thank God, not yet literally--we fritter away our time in the careless performance of our duties of state. Psychologists, say a well-adjusted person must be orientated; he must realize the circumstances of time and place 236 ' September, 1954 THE WORLD AROUND US and people in which he as an individual moves. Spiritual orientation --realizing our vital position in the Mystical Body--is even more necessary, particularly for the .religious assigned by obedience to work that naturally speaking is unattractive and unrewarding. Only when he or she fully appreciates the far-reaching; world-wide conse-quences of any task well done out of love for God can there be achieved that inner contentment and peaceful adjustment to the de-tails of daily life which should characterize every servant of God. A wilfully discontented religious is something of an "Indian giver," since it must be presumed that we knew at least confusedly what we were promising when we gave ourselves to God. Only the wilfully discontented, however, can be blamed, because everyone is apt to feel discontented now and then. Here, too, in these 6ccasional periods of dissatisfaction, turning to the stark reality of the outside World can do wonders for our morale. Imagine us standing before a group of young Catholic mothers and fathers of not poor but moderate circumstances and telling them with a straight face our most recent cause for dissatisfaction: that Sister Fortunata was deemed worthy of a new habit while we were told to put up with our patched one for awhile, or that Father Procurator's fondness for ginger snaps has led him to buy another case of them with the result that the whole comm.unity will be munching on the tasteless things for some weeks to come. While being somewhat amused and per-haps a bit surprised to find such utterly human reactions beneath the religious garb, these Catholic couples could very well give us an en-lightening five-minute lecture on how much it costs to house, clothe, and feed a growing family today, presenting as evidence a handful of unpaid bills. For all its inconveniences and privations. our poverty is at least secure. Their support depends on a monthly pay check which an extraordinary expense like illness can shrink to almost nothing. And then there are always the really poor whose existence, if we are not privileged t!o work among them, we may tend to forget. If we are stationed in a large city, the chances are that less than' a mile or two from our front door there are slums, the decrepitude and squalor of which would send us hurrying back gratefully to our neat little convents. There is little disagreement that over the course of a lifetime the~ most painful sacrifices~made by a religious: stem: from~ obedience. As the venerable Trappist~ lay brother is supposed to have admitted: 'Tve gotten used to almost everything but doing what I'm told." 237 JOHN H, ZIEGLER Reoiew for Religious Again it would be unrealistic to forget that not only religious have superiors. One thing that can be affirmed of our superiors is that however imprudent at times we may think their commands--how seldom all the facts warrant this opinion--their designs are moti-vated by a sincere desire for the good of the community and each of its members. Some of the most embittered persons one can meet in the world are those whose careers were blighted by an unscrupulous executive"s passing over their genuine ability and service to give the nod to some less worthy but conniving crony. The religious who harbors the suspicion that s.uperiors lie awake after night prayers de-vising ways to make him miserable is rapidly becoming pathological, both mentally and spiritually. Our rules and constitutions, or more often customs, sometimes reach a directing or restraining finger into nearly every department of life. But with admirable self-control in view of their past experience with red tape and army regulations, veterans of military service calmly assure us that we have no mon-opoly on minutiae. A West Point graduate confessed that, after the discipline of the Point, the externals of novitiate training did not seem overly difficult. Considerations such as these are not based upon a vision of re-ligious men and women, faithful to their obligations, but for the most part unhappy and disgruntled, dragging their way through life like dreary prisoners. Not at all! But is it unfair and untrue to concede that sooner or later into the life of even the most fervent among us there slink the twin devils of discouragement and self-pity? When they come, bent upon upsetting our spiritual equili-brium, should we not have some natural defense at hand as well as sound supernatural principles? All of creation is at our disposal to use in attaining our eternal destiny. Why not turn the contempo-rary world with its crosses and problems and temptations into a re-minder that the yoke we bear and the burden we shoulder are not altogether unique? ' And yet in one way they are unique. Because we are cross-- bearers not only by necessity as all men are, not only by Christian resignation as most good layfolk are, but by choice, as are all those who voluntarily follow the counsels. In return we above all others have Christ's promise of a hundredfold and life everlasting. This hundredfold we can spoil for ourselves if, too intent upon our own little world, we see our daily sacrifices magnified out of all propor-tion to what they really are. And even our store of eternal merit 238 September, 1954 COMMUNICATIONS can be decreased if, without a world-wide vision of the urgent needs of this hour, we fail to realize how much more we could help if we tried. Com rn un ica!:ions Reverend Fathers: This communication was prompted by Father Gallen's excellent article in the May issue of the REVIEW, "Pray Reasonably." He men-tions common difficulties in retreats for religious women, many of which, I feel, d~pend upon the methods of the retreat master. Often the presentation of points for n~editation loses its essential character through excessive length. Souls wearied by prolonged oratory are deprived of both the leisure and the inclination for fur-ther lengthy reflection. If these points are to retain their purpose of preparation for mental prayer, twenty minutes or half an hour would not seem to be an unreasonable limit, with the explicit in-junction that the retreatants continue the meditation themselves, al-though not necessarily remaining in the chapel to do so. A novel and perhaps very fruitful method of presenting the points would be that of the retreat master "meditating aloud" with brief pauses for the individual to add her own affections, even perhaps with both retreat master and retreatants kneeling. The additional time provided by this shortening of the points might be profitably used in individual contact with souls in the con-fessional. Many sisters do not have an opportunity for spiritual direction during the year and wish to seek advice during the annual retreat. If the hearing of confessions is delayed until the last few days of the retreat, or if the period allotted each day is very limited, the brevity which consideration for others demands makes it difficult to obtain adequate counsel. :~ I am sure that many would benefit by a series of articles on the subject of the retreat in the REVIEW, similar to the excellent treat-ment of spiritual direction a few years ago. Undoubtedly both re-treat masters and retreatants could share many suggestions in this way.--A SISTER. 239 lZor Your/n[orma!:ion Our Proiects In our March, 1954, number (p. 61) we suggested a "project" in the form of pooling ideas as to what it takes to be a good superior. We fiave received some response (even though rather meager) to this suggestion, but we have not yet had time to organize the material. We hope to have it ready for the November number. Also in the March number (p. 62) we suggested an "American Founders' Series." The response to this has also been meager; but the first article of what ,may (or may not) be a series will appear in November. Pharmacists' Guilds It is no easy thing today for the Catholic pharmacist to live up to the moral principles and ideals taught by the Church. One help-ful means of doing this is mutual cooperation in the form of phar-macists' guilds. One such guild is The Druggists' Guild of St. dames, of the Diocese of Covington, Kentucky. This guild has published a pamphlet entitled Our Faith in Pharrnac~j, which explains the moral principles and ideals, tells how to organize a guild, and gives a model of an appropriate constitution and by-laws. The ~0rice of the pam-phlet is twenty-five cents. It can be obtained from: The Druggists' Guild of St. James, 109 W. 6th St., Covington, Ky. Trapplsfs Leave New Mexico" The Trappist community of Our Lady of Guadalupe Abbey, Pecos, New Mexico is soon to be moved to a new site in Oregon. Their New Mexico property is now for sale. It is considered suitable for a convalescent home or some such purpose for any religious group not dependent on natural resources for its support. An illus-trated brochure with pertinent information may be had by writing the Father Abbot, Right Reverend M. Columban 'Hawkins, o.c.s.o., Guadalupe Abbey, Pecos,.New Mexico. 240 Pilgrims on !:he Road t:o Love George Byrne, S,J. THE strangest answer ever given to a questioner was given by Christ to Nicodemus. A doctor of the Law, he had been im-pressed by this "Rabbi, who came a teacher from God." From him, if from anyone, he could learn the ideal of life. What on earth did Christ's answer mean? "A man must be~ born again of water and the Holy Ghost." If there had been question only of some reno-vation by water, he might have understood. John the Baptist's work was not so enigmatic. But to be "born of the Spirit,". and so "to be spirit," entering on a new life unlike the "birth of the flesh," was something unheard of in the schools where the "masters in Israel" taught. Frankly, he did not understand. He was familiar~ with the book of Deuteronomy. He l~new its precept to love God with the whole heart, with the whole strength. But he did not know the meaning of real love; the love which "whether prophecies shall be made void, or tongues shall cease, or knowledge shall be'destroyed, never falleth away." This love bad nothing of earth in it; his mind had not yet been opened to "heav-enly things." He fancied that he loved, and with him we all so fancy; but our love is a love of desire, a yearning of the heart to clasp for self something that will enrich us. When personal gain disal~- pears, the "love" vanishes. It is still more fickle when faced with the cost of suffering. It was not love, pure love. Shakespeare merely repeats St. Paul: "Love is not love, which alters when it alteration finds." Pure love is uncaused. It is of heaven; it is heaven, fo~ "God is Love." A complete birth of the spirit is needed to secure it: "Create a dean heart in me, 0 God." Nicodemus must realize how "God so loved the wi~rld as to give His only begotten Son." Nico-demus, with his fellow Jews, practiced an observance calculated to hasten the "restoration of Israel." Self was the kernel of apparent fidelity. The Apostles, too, gave that they might get: "Wilt Thou at this time restore again the kingdom of Israel?" Their feet were not firmly set, as pilgrims, on the road to love--pure love, God's love. For three years the Master had been pointing the way; but their "hearts were slow to believe." About to leave them, He de-clared: "I have yet many things to say to you: but you cannot bear 241 GEORGE BYRNE Reuieto ~:or Religious them now." They had to be "born agai'n" of the Holy Spirit; He "would teach them all truth." He would do more. He would come; He would abide with them. They would not remain "or-phans." They were to find their 'way to the school of love. Born of God, they would love; and, loving with the real love, they would know Him. Before Pentecost the Apostles remained behind closed doors for fear of the Jews. After Pentecost they were "wit-nesses of the Holy Ghost." They bad been born again to the true love of God. Now. they wanted to give that they "might be chil-dren of their Father in heaven": "They went from the pr~esence of the council, rejoicing that they were accounted worthy to suffer re-proach for the name of Jesus." "To GIVE AND NOT TO COUNT THE COST" We saw in a previous article (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XIII [July, 1954], 211) that, though all of us would resent' being told that we are inc.apable of love, we should be read9 enough to demur about the epithet. "holy." Even though we might count ourselves among the class of "good religious," there would be a lurking feeling that "holy" is reserved for the "saints." We rather think of it as applicable to some rare supermen, who have shaken the world's dust from their feet and have reached a No-Ordinary-Man's Land, through an asceticism, and a still more esoteric mysticism, beyond our range. A fundamental mistake, since "holiness" and "'real love" are identified: "He who loveth is born of God." St. John, who bad pondered over Christ's reply to Nicodemus, at last under-stood it fully at Pentecost. When he began to write his Epistle, he had "been born again" and had come to "know God" with the knowledge that "is eternal life: that they may know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent." The truth is easily stated. In practice, however, it seems one of those easy lessons hard to learn. John could speak of that "which we have heard, which we have seen with our ~yes . and our hands hav~ handled, of the word of life." St. Peter would strengthen our faith in its trial with the words, "Whom having not seen, you love." We remain doubtful: "how, where, and when have we shown this love? The Master Himself has removed all uncertainty: "Lord, when did we see Thee hungry . . . ? Amen, I say to you, as long as you did it to one of these my least brethren, you did it to me." The test of love is generosity; the test of pure love is unselfish generosity: "to give, and not to count the cost . . . to labor and not 242 September, 1954 PILGRIMS ON THE ROAD TO LOVt~ to seek reward": "Do good, and lend, hoping for nothing thereby: ¯ . . and you shall be the sons of the Highest." The "rich man" may well, like the Pharisee, have pridec] himself on his religion of temple service and Law, observance; growth in holiness he neglected. Lazarus, at his gate, offered him an oppor- ¯ -tunity. of growing in love by compassion. He neglected it; he was buried in hell, where all the loveless go! St. Francis de Sales has been called the saint of love: his pen distilled the word; his actions breathed it. His friends asked him the way to holiness. "You must love God with all your heart; and your neighbor as yourself," he.answered. "Yes," they said, "we know all that; but bow is one to do it?" To their insistence he replied: "Methods and systems I have.n't, got. You learn to love by loving; as you learn to speak by spe~iking, to run by running. ¯ . . Begin as a mefe~pprentice, and the very power of love will lead you on to become master of the art." " St. 'Paul, certainI~ a fire-eater, "breathing out threatenings and slaughter aga~nst~the d~sc~ple~of the Lord," d~d sit down as an ap-prentice to learn. He mastered th~ lesson and left it as an heirloom for us in his beautiful "Song of Love." If we would be "holy," we could do no better than constantly sing to ourselves this song, and let its melody harmonize with all we think about or do to oust. fellowmen. Let us begin the apprenticeship at home before looking for arctic regions to whrm with rays of our kindliness. This was the "little way" of Thgr~se of Lisieux. ~She daily tended, in her own little garden, roses whose perfume spread far and wide. Let us take St. Paul's Song of Love, and place in an opposite column the growl of selfishness. CHARITY is patient . . . is kind: on the look-out to help . . . envieth not: encourages, praises . . . dealeth not perversely . . . is not puffed up . . . is not ambitious . . . seeketh'not her own . . . .SELFISHNESS is impatient: "I can't stand thls"; "give it to me now" . . . is intolerant, bored: keeps what it has; looks for more . . . is jealous: criticizes, condemns to ap-pear bigger . . . loves to "hit back," to "take dowa that fellow's prideV' . . . lets others know what it has done; thrives on flattery . . . is full of its own importance; expects due reqognition . . . insists on its rights; "number one" is never second . . . 243 GEORGE BYRNE CHARITY is not provoked to anger . rejoiceth not in iniquity, but . . . with the truth . . . SELFISHNr:SS is touchy: flares up at a word or an act . . . admires the crafty; is afraid of sin-cerity . . . beareth all things . . . believeth all things . . . hopeth all things . . . endureth all things, . never falleth away. complains of each pin-prick . . . is suspicious, on its guard . . . is cynical: throws cold water . . . has little staying power when sacrifice is needed: is fickle. As religious, we make an examination of conscience at least once, peihaps twice a day. A mere inventory of so many duties well done, poorly done, or forgotten, does not carry us very far on the way to real improvement. The point to be stressed is not the work done, but the motive, the spirit, animating it. Our divine Master made this clear in commendin~g Mary Magdalen: "Many sins are forgiven her because she hath loved much." If instead of "Charity" w~ read in the first column, "Jesus," we see how true it is: "Jesus is patient, is kind, beareth all things, etc." Then try our own name: "John, Mary, etc." We soon see how little we fit into the "Char-ity" column; on the contrary, how much we are at home in the selfishness parade. Having made the discovery, let us look forward to possible op-portunities during the next hour, this morning, or this afternoon, of being "patient, kind, enduring," and the rest: let us resolve to profit by some of them. It is thus. that we "learn to love b,y loving." It is thus that we really start as pilgrims on the road to love and find to our surprise that we have more in common with the Heart of Love, the Sacred Heart, than we imagined. Holiness, wl~ich is growth in love, is not an empty dream. OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOHN R. POST is master of novices at the Jesuit novitiate, Shadowbrook, at Lenox, Massachusetts. JOHN H. ZIEGLER is doing graduate studies at the Catholic University of America. GEORGE BYRNE is professor of ascetical theology at Mill-town Park, Dublin, Ireland. FRANCIS N. KORTH is a member of our editorial. board. 244 'i Secular Ins!:d:u!:es: Some ( ues!:ions Francis N. Korth, S.J. IN A PREVIOUS ISSUE of this REVIEW (XIII [1954], 108)~, I referred to a number of interesting points about secular insti-tutes, many of which came up during the discussions of the ruary, 1954, Chicago meeting dealing with secular institutes. At the time I mentioned that I hoped to present these points in a future article, possibly in question-and-answer form. This is'the redemp-tion of that promise. The items are more or less iso'lated points. They are being presented with a view to filling out to some extent the general picture of what a secular institute is. It is hoped they will fulfill the purpose for which they are intended. I. Must applicants necessarily go to a distant city where a house of the secular institute is located? Personal acquaintance of the applicant should be had by the adviser who acts for the secular institute. This usually means a trip on someone's part. Later ori some other provision for the training of successful can~lidates closer to their home might possibly be worked out, especially if there are several such candidates living in about the same vicinity. However, that solution would depend upon a number of circumstances: sometimes it might be possible, other times it would be impossible. It would be better not to count upon it but rather to more or less plan on going for the necessary training.to the place where the house of the secular institute is lo-cated, at least for some period of time. 2. Is it adoisable to admit ex-religious as candidates to a secular institute? At least at the beginning of a new secular institute it would seem to be advisable not to take in too many ex-religious, since they already have undergone a systematic training different from that proper to candidates for a secular institute. That previous training might binder the development of the true spirit of a budding secular institute. 3. Are middle-aged people likely candidates for a'dmittance to secular institutes? 245 " FRANCIS N. KORTH Review for Religious M.any otherwise good people of that age group might not have all the?necessary q~J'alifications.for .such a vocation. One of these would be the proper age requirement for admittance to a specified institute. Hence one who is channeling possible vocations to dif-ferent secular institutes should make himself acquainted with the age requirements of the various groups. 4. Are widows acceptable as candidates for a secular institute? Widows can be admitted, unless the individual constitutions forbid it. If the widow has children, that might make a difference. Depending upon circumstances, .such applicants might be accepted or might be refused. 5. Would divorced persons be admitted? Under the supposition that the constitutions allow it, if the divorced person is the innocent party, such applicant could be ad-mitted provided there was no scandal: for example, if the identity of the person as a member of the secular institute is kept hidden if that be necessary to avoid scandal, or if the person goes to a place far removed from the locality where he is known. 6. What is the length of the aspirancy and of the novitiate? A six-months' aspirancy seems to be rather common. The period of training which corresponds to the novitiate in religious institutes varies: it is of one- or two-years' duration in some existing institutes. 7. Could the vows or promises made in a secular institute be termed semipublic? Yes, that term has been applied to them at'times since those vows, oaths, consecrations, or promises have a juridical effect. How-ever, all such vows, oaths, consecrations, and promises are, abso-lutely speaking, juridically private and not public; they are not recognized as public by the Church. But to distinguish them from ordinary private vows (which have no juridical effects) those vows have been termed by some commentators as semipublic or social VOWS. 8. What type or courses of studies might be suggested for the intel-lectual formation of members? Courses or lectures in dogmatic theology and in~ some branches of philosophy could be given. Also there is place-for courses in 246 September, 1954 SECULAR INSTITUTES asceticism. Dependent upon the particular apostolate of an institute, courses in languages, missiology, sociology, and other subjects would be suitable. 9. How much time would be given to prayer? In some institutes about one or two hours daily are required. This includes attendance at Mass, saying the rosary, a ball bout or more of meditation, some spiritual reading, and the like. Because many members are busy during the day earning their livelihood or doing their usual tasks, the suitable time for prayer would be the morning or evening hours. In some institutes the Divine Office (usually only a pari of it) is said privately each day. An annual retreat of five or six days is the regular thing. There might also be a monthly day of recollection. 10. Is any means used for checking on faithfulness to those prayer obligations? One possible means could be a written report on the external ful-fillment of the prayer obligations. However, no data is available on how much, if any, of this is done in practice. I1. What provision is made for the observance of the vow or promise of poverty? When the members are living in a common house and bare goods in common, the matter can be provided for quite easily. This is rarely the case. When the members do not live in a common house, a "budget" method could be used. This budget might be drawn up to cover ordinary expenses, such as light, food, heat, and so on. It might also be extended to include another category, extraordinary ex-penses: necessary or useful expenses that arise only occasionally. In either case, the estimated budget of expenses could be submitted periodically to the superior for approval, perhaps once a year. After- ~vards, at stated intervals the discrepancies between this estimated budget and the real budget, of which a record bad been kept, would be submitted to the superior for approval of the discrepancies. This budget would be individual; it would take into account such facts as the resources or income of the subject and his status in society. If the budget covers only ordinary expenses, then for extraordinary expenses (for example, the purchase of a new coat) permission could be obtained each time from the superior. Or provision might be 247 FRANCIS N. KORTH Review for Religious made to allow the subject to presume permission for the extraordi-nary expense and then report the matter later on. Similarly, in regard to the amount of money to be contributed by each member for the general needs of the institute, an agreement could be made between the institute (superior) and the subject. This might be made on a somewhat permanent basis, or as something to be re-examined and possibly revised periodically, say annually. If the former, then a clause could be added requiring re-examination in case the financial .condition of the subject became notably c.hanged. Again in drawing up this agreement, account is taken of the financial status of the individual. In general, in the matter of poverty a member could try to get along with a little less than other persons in his state of life or social position require. 12. Could a me~ber of a secular institute ~wn and operate a busi-ness? : Owning and operating a business in the name of the institute is forbidden, but it does not seem forbidden for an individual member to own and operate one. 13. Could a member prot)ide.for his parents financially it: the latter were in need? If the parents of a member fell int~ need, it seems that the supe-rior could approve such assistance as a necessary expense. In that case, however, the institute itself would not support the parents of the member, but it,would permit the member to support them. 14. Do members of secular institutes mal~e a will? Yes, a will or last testament is made before profess)on. 15. What about dealing with the opposite sex? Aside from professional or other necessary contact, it would seem that steady or regular contact with members of the opposite sex is to be avoided. This would also extend to correspondence. In the matter of dancing, members could sponsor or chaperon dances, but they .would not themselves dance with persons of the opposite sex. However, it is possible that such provisions might vary some-what in different institutes. . 16. Is it permissible fgr members to attend movies? to use cos-metics? to smoke? to go swimming? , 248 September, 1954 SECULAR INSTITUTES In these matters, there very likely might be divergent practices among various institutes. According to one report it is all right for the members to attend movies for recreational purposes if the pic-tures are good; moderate use of cosmetics is allowed; no mention is made for or against smoking; swimming is permissible. The deci-sion as to what is permissible or not in these and similar matters might depend to a considerable extent upon the customs of places and peoples. 1.7. For what purpose would a secular institute be established? A secular institute would have the general purpose of aiming at the sanctification of its members. There would also be a specific purpose, such as doing some particular apostolic work to meet a special apostolic need, or simply placing its members at the disposal of the local ordinary (or of the Holy See) to do what, he wishes done. 18. In u2hose hands is the government of a secular institute? In general the government of a secular institute is in the hands of its lay members, at least for the lay sections. In some institutes, however, a priest is serving in the capacity of superior general or provincial superior. But as a rule priest members might act rather in the capacity of spiritual advisers or confessors. 19. What is an ecclesiastical assistant? An ecclesiastical assistant (who might be known possibly~ by some other term) is a priest specially designated to give help to a secular institute. He might be chosen from the ranks of the diocesan or religious clergy. In general the function of an ecclesiastical as-sistant would be that of counseling, giving spiritual help, and the like in the external forum; but his work might vary somewhat at times in accordance with the wishes of the local ordinary. The in-. ternal government of a group, however, should be left to thegroup itself, unless possibly at 'the beginning more than spiritual help is needed from this priest to keep things going. 20. Would it be advisable for this ecclesiastical assistant, ~vbo has authoritq in spiritual matters in the external forum, also to be the ordinartj confessor or spiritual director of a member? If a discussion of t'bis point were held, the conclusion migbt be reached that a negative answer would seem to/be the better one, al- 249 FR,~,NCIS N. KORTH though in some instances such a combination might work out all right. 21. Is it advisable to use terms, such as "'novitiate," "profession," and so on in connection with secular institutes? At present some of the terminology which is common usage in regard to religious institutes is being used by some writers to explain similar matters relating to secular institutes. Terms such as "no-vitiate" and others which are proper to religious institutes are usu-ally not to be applied in their technical sense to secular institutes; rather it is hoped that a distinct body of terminology proper to secular institutes will be built up gradually. One purpose of such separate terminology might be to stress the important fact that members of secular institutes are not religious. PAMPHLETS Looe Letter (on the love of God) by John M. Scott, S.J. l0 cents.-- Twenty-four Rosaries and Chaplets, by Patrick Shaughnessy, O.S.B. 15 cents.- The Grail, St. Meinrad, Indiana. The Teacher and Vocations, by John B. Delaunay, C.S.C. 10 cents-- Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, Indiana. The Ladtl Was Immaculate, by Daniel A. Lord, S.J.--I Can't Cope/ That Family, by Francis L. Filas, S.d.--Death Is Life, by John M. Scott, S.J.--Heart of Our World," by Arthur R. McGratty, S.J.--Don't Go to Hell, by Winfrid Herbst, S.J.--Each 10 cents. The Queen's Work, 3115 3outh Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18,, Mo. MARIAN YEAR PLAY Counted as Mine is a play of three acts, six scenes, with a modern-dress cho-rus, suitable for performance by high school and college students or by little the-atre groups and parish drama clubs. It is the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the Hope of America. Written by a Poor Clare, the author of the play, Candle in Umbria, and of the boqk of poems, Whom. I Have Loued. $1.00 per copy. Order from: t(ev. Mother M.'Immaculata, P.C., Poor Clare Monastery of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Route 1, Box 285-C, Roswell, New Mexico. 25O Quinquennial Repor!: By Nonfederated Autonomous Monasteries and Houses EDITORS' INTRODUCTION THE decree of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, 3uly 9, 1947 (cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VIII [Sept., 1949], 234- 40), extended the obligation of m~lking the quinquennial re-port beyond the terms of canon 510, which requires it only of the abbot primate, the superior of every monastic congregation, and the superior general of every institute approved by the Holy See. Now, however, the superiors of all nonfederated autonomous monasteries and houses, as well as the superiors general of all diocesan congrega-tions, are obliged to send in this quinquennial report. Here are the provisions regarding these latter classes of religious: 1. Major superiors of autonomous, monasteries or houses o[ men which, although approved by the Holy See, do not belong to any monastic congregation or federation, shall send in their reports in the foIlowing order: In 1953, 1958, 1963, canons regular, monks, military orders. In 1954, 1959, 1964, all other regulars. In 1955, 1960, 1965, clerical congregations. In 1956, 1961, 1966, lay congregations. In 1957, 1962, 1967, societies of common life, secular insti-tutes and federations. 2. Major superioresses of autonomous monasteries and houses not belonging to any federation, as well as superioresses general of diocesan congregations, societies of common life, and of secular in-stitutes, shall send their report as follows: In I953, 1958, I963, the superioresses of Italy, Spain, Portu-gal. In 1954, 1959, 1964, the superioresses of France, Belgium, Holland, England, Ireland. In 1955, 1960, 1965, the superioresses of the other countries of Europe. In 1956, 1961, 1966, the superioresses of America (North,. Central, South). Shortly after the publication of its decree, the Sacred Congrega- "25t QUINQUENNIAL REPORT tion issued a new questionnaire to replace the official one of March 25, 1922 (AAS, XV, [1923], 459-466) which contained 106 questions. The new questionnaire, printed in Latin, has three forms: (1) for pontifical institutes and societies (342 questions); (2) for diocesan congregations and societies (322 questions); (3) for nonfederated autonomous monasteries and houses (171 questions). The first of these questionnaires, for pontifical institutes a, nd societies, has been translated into English and published by the Sa-cred Congregation. It is available for $1.50 from Rev. Giulio Mandelli, Archivist, S. Congregation of Religious, Palazzo San Cal-listo, Rome, Italy. With the permission of the Sacred Congrega: tion of Religious, this complete official English text was also pub-lished in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS during the course of the year 1950. The two shorter questionnaires have never been translated officially into English. As a matter of fact, the questionnaires fbr pontifical and diocesan institutes are practically identical after one omits some twenty questions dealing with provinces and their government. The complete text for diocesan congregations may be found in Creusen-Ellis: Religious Men and Women in the Code, ed. 5, 1953, pp. 278-316. The questionnaire for nonfederated autonomous monas.teries and houses, however, contains only about half the questions pro-posed for pontifical institutes. It was decided to publish this ques-tionnaire in our REVIEW for the benefit of these small houses because they cannot find the qfiestions elsewhere in English, And, since the monasteries and houses in England and Ireland must send in their reports this year, this questionnaire is being printed now, even though American houses will not need it until 1956. We should like to add that, though these various questionnaires may directly concern only limited numbers of religious, yet all of us can learn a great deal about the mind of the Church by reading the questions. What follows is an unofficial English translation of the official Latin text of the questionnaire: POINTS TO BE NOTED A) Regarding the drawing up, and writing of the quinquennial re-port: a) ]~efore the reply to each question, there should be a clear 252 ~ September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT ¯indication of the number and letter by which that question is desig- ~aated in this list. b) Whenever a pontifical or episcopal document is brought in, its date and protocol number should be faithfully and uniformly given. c) The reply is to be developed as each case may require, and is not to be dismissed with a simple affirmation or denial. d) The report is to be made out in Latin or in any of the fol-lowing modern languages: English, French, German, Spanish, or Italian. e) The report should be typed and in clear characters. If for some just cause the report is written by hand, the handwriting must be clear. f) The paper to be used must not be translucent nor too thick, but durable, so as to resist the ravages of time. B)" Regarding the manner in which this report is to be made to the ordinaGl and transmitted b~] him to the Sacred Congregation of Religious: 1. Superiors of autonomous monasteries and religious houses are not to send the quinquennia! report directly to the Holy See, but rather to their own local ordinary, if they are subject to him, other-. wise to the regular ordinary upon whom they depend (cf. decree Cure transactis, IV, 1°, 2°). 2. The report is to be signed by the superior of the autono-mous monastery or house and by all his councilors. 3. Either the local ordinary or the regular ordinary, as the case may be, shall send a copy of the report, signed by himself and an-notated by his own personal observations, to the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious within the year itself during which the report is to be made. 4. Together with the first report following the publication of the present questionnaire, the following documents also are to be sent to the Sacred Congregation of Religious: a) Two well-bound copies of the Rule and the constitutions, revised to conform with the Code of Canon Law. .b) One copy each, if there are such, of the books in which particular laws, practices, customs, the ceremonial, and proper prayers are contained. c) A historico-juridical report in which are indicate.c[.the origin of the autonomous monastery or house, its establishment or 253 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Reoiew for Religious approval, as well as the principal historical events. To this shall be added, if there are any such, copies of those books which describe the history and activity of the monastery. " ¯ ON THE FIRST PAGE OF THE REPORT PUT THE FOLLOWING: The Name, of the monastery or house: . . . ~ (the of{iclal title in Latin, and the common name) Complete address: postal, telegraphic. The years which are covered by the report: . . . THE LIST OF OUESTIONS CONCERNING THE PRECEDING REPORT 1. a) When was the last report sent to the ordinary? b) Were the observations on the report which may have been made by the Sacred Congregation and transmitted by the or-dinary faithfully carried out in practice? 2. Can the matters of information contained in the last report be conscientiously considered reliable and complete, or does anything concerning them seem to require modification? CHAPTER I THE MONASTERY AND ITS GOVERNMENT ARTICLE I The autonomous monastery or house in general 3. What is the juridical nature of the monastery or house: a) To which order, if any, does it belong and which Rule is followed? b) Are the vows solemn or simple; or simple, though sol-emn according to the institute (c. 488, 7°) ? 4. Is the house provided with those things which are neces-sary for the common life, especially: a) A separate cell for each person; or, if the dormitories are common, at least a separate bed for each person, properly set apart from the others? 254 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT b) A separate place fully suitable for the care and assistance of the sick? c) Are the rooms for receiving guests sufficiently separate from the part of the house which is reserved to the community? 5. Are there an.y filial houses subject to the autonomous mon-astery or house? How many? 6. Does the monastery depend on the local ordinary or on the regular superior? ARTICLE II Concernin9 he juridical 9overnmen÷ 7. Is the general council of the monastery or house up to its full membership at present? 8. Within the period covered by the report, has there been a session of the chapter of elections? 9. Were the norms [for the chapter] prescribed by the com-mon law and by particular law "(the constitutions, etc.) faithfully observed as regards: a) The time of the session? b) The elections of the superior, of the consultors or assist-ants, and of other general officials who are elected by the chapter? 10. In all these matters, even in seeking information about the candidates, did all avoid procuring votes either directly or indirectly for themselves or for others (c. 507, § 2) i1. Who presided at the chapter? 12. Were the norms of the common law and of the constitu-tions observed: a) Regarding the requisites and qualifications of superiors and officials (cc. 504, 516)? b) Regarding the duration of offices (c. 505) 13. How many and what dispensations from the provisions of the common or particular law were granted by the Holy See: a) For appointments to positions or offices? b) For the renewal of the same? c) Were the conditions attached to these dispensations faithfully observed ? 14. How do superiors see to it that the decrees of the Holy See which concern religious are known and observed by their own sub-jects (c. 509, § 1)? 15. Is perfect freedom left to subjects, without any inspec-tion of letters by superiors, in their epistolary correspondence with 255 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT those persons who, according to the common (c. 611) and particu-lar law, have this right? 16. Were there any cases of secret and clandestin~ epistolary correspondence, either between religious or between these and secu-lar persons, and what ,was done to correct these abuses? 17. Has the canonical, visitation of the local ordinary taken place, as well as that of the regular superior, if the monastery is sub-ject to him? 18. Have chapters and council meetings been held at prescribed times and in the required cases? 19. Are the matters in which, according to the common and particular law, councilors have a deliberative or consultative vote, faithfully submitted to a meeting of the council? 20. Is the proper liberty of all and each of the councilors duly recognized in the council meetings? And'in the decisions, appoint-ments and votes of whatever kind, were the norms of the common law (cc. 101, 105, 1°, 2°, 3°) and of the particular law always ob-served ? 21. Are the minutes of the meetings duly drawn up and signed? 22. Are the archives of the monastery or house properly equipped and carefully arranged? 23. Is there also for each house a chronicle in which the prin-cipal events are carefully recorded? ARTICLE III Concerning the spiritual government 24. Are there confessors appointed for each house according to c. 518, § i? 25. Without prejudice to the constitutions which may pre-scribe or recommend that confessions be made at stated times to ap-pointed confessors, are the religious left free to go, in accordance with canon 519, without prejudice however to religious discipline, to a confessor approved by the local ordinary, even though he is not among the appointed confessors? 26. Are the norms of the common law and of the constitu-tions faithfully observed regarding the appointment and reappoint-ment of the ordinary, extraordinary, special, and supplementary confessors (cc. 520, §§ 1-2, 521, 524, 526, 527)? 27. Did superioresses faithfully observe the prescriptions made for them regarding supplementary confessors (c. 521, § 3), occa- 256 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT sional confessors (c. 522), and confessors in case of grave illness (c. 523) ? 28. Do superiors take means and exercise a prudent vigilance to see that all the religious, according to law" (c. 595, § 1, 3,°) and the constitutions (c. 519), receive the sacrament of penance at least once a week? 29. Have superiors been guilty of any abuses, and if so what were they, by which the liberty of conscience of their subjects has been restricted (cc. 518, § 3, 519, 520, § 2, 521,§ 3, 522, 2414)? 30. Has there been, under pretext of.liberty of conscience, any detriment to religious discipline on the part of subjects? Did any other abuses arise? 31. Do superiors, in accordance with canon law (c. 530, §§ 1, 2) leave their subjects free in regard to making a strict mani-festation of conscience to them? 32. Is there an appointed chaplain, or have other provisions been made by sacred functions sufficient for the spiritual welfare of the religious? Are there any difficulties with regard to the spiritual welfare? 33. Do superiors, in accordance with c. 5'95, §§ 2-3, promote among their subjects frequent and even daily reception of the Most Sacred Body of Christ, always without prejudice to full liberty of conscience according to law (c. 595, § 4) and the instructioris of the Holy See? 34. Do superiors diligently see to it that confessors are easily available before Communion, and do they allow their religious sub-jects a suitable time for preparation and thanksgiving? 35. Do superiors see to it that, according to the constitutions and the common law, there are spiritual and catechetical instructions for the entire house (c. 509, § 2, 2°), for the novices (c. 565, § 2), for the conversi [lay brothers and lay sisters], for the domes-tics and servants .(c. 509, § 2, 2°) ? ARTICLE IV Concern[n9 fhe f[nanclal 9overnmenf 36. a) Did the house 'acquire any immovable property or precious movable property? What was the value of these acquisi-tions? b) Was the aforesaid property acquired by gift or other gra-tuitous title, or by purchase, and in this latter case was it with the funds of the house or with borrowed money? 257 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Review for Religious 37. Has the house an inventory of its movable property, espe-cially of that which is classed as precious (by reason of art, his-tory, or material) (c. 1522, 2°) and of its immovable property? 38. When must these inventories be revised, and are they in fact revised? 39. By what method or in whose name before the civil law is the religious property registered? Can this registration be regarded as safe in civil law? 40. Were extraordinary expenses paid from their own ordi-nary or extraordinary income, or on the contrary with borrowed funds? 41. What capital property, whether immovable, or stable [i.e. consisting of capital funds], or precious, was alienated, and by what authority? 42. In the alienation of property, were the provisions of law (cc. 534, 1531), especially regarding the previous appraisal by ex-perts, and the norms of the constitutions, observed? 43. Did the house consume any stable or founded property or capital funds? For what reasons and by what authority? 44. Are superiors making serious efforts to recover this prop-erty ? 45. a) What debts were contracted, and by whom? b) What debts are actually outstanding~ 46. In contracting debts and obligations, were the following faithfully observed : a) The provisions of c. 534? b) The precautions mentioned in c. 536, § 5? c) The norms of the constitutions regarding permissions, the consent of the council, etc. ? 47. Was the interest on debts and obligations faithfully paid, and is diligent care being taken toward the gradual payment of the debt; or the amortization of the capital sum borrowed (c. 536, § 5)? 48. Are there any difficulties of an economic nature, and what are they ? 49. Is the administration of property conducted, not abitrar-ily, but according to the common law and the constitutions, under the direction and vigilance of the superior and of his council (cc. 516, § 2, 532, § 1)? 50. Was a clear and complete rendering of account demanded 258 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT of all and each of the bursars and administrators during the five-year period ? 51. Were there presented, together .with the accounts, the documents showing the expenditures and receipts? 52. Was there regularly an inspection and checking of the safe? 53. Did superiors, councils, and administrators lawfully, safely, and profitably invest the money which was to be invested according to law and the will of benefactors, observing the rules of law and the constitutions (c. 533) ? 54. Are money, securities, contracts, precious articles carefully preserved, observing exactly the common norms and the provisions of the constitutions? 55. Do superiors, bursars, administrators conscientiously strive to have all the property of the institute religiously preserved and providently administered (c. 532, § 1)? 56. What legacies and pious foundations were accepted? 57. In accepting pious foundations and legacies, were the rule~ of law (c. 1544, ss.) and of the constitutions observed? 58. Was the money of foundations and pious causes, accord-ing to law and with the consent of the 16cal ordinary when that was required, invested (cc. 535,. §§ 1,. 2: 1547)' and separately and faithfully administered (cc. 535, § 3, 2°; 1546; 1549)? 59. Were the obligations attached to foundations faithfully and conscientiously fulfilled (cc. 151,4, 1549, § 2)? 60. Did visitors demand documentary proof of their fulfil-ment and an account of the administration of the property? 61. Did any religious, superiors or subjects, personally or through others, engage in illicit business, that is, business not per-mitted to religious, in violaton of cc. 142, 592? 62. Were superiors and councils attentively watchful that, ac-cording to c. 1539, § 2, in the administrative exchange of securities payable to bearer, all appearance of commerce or trading was avoid-ed? 63. How did superiors exercise vigilance over the actions and dealings of their subjects from which there might arise according to law a financial responsibility on the part of tbe house (c. 536, § 2) or of the individual religious (c. 536, § 3) ? 64. Do superiors see to it that, in all matters which concern finances, or in those generally which could give occasion for litiga-tion in the canonical or civil courts, everything is done exactly ac- 259 QUINQUENNIAL" "R EPOR.T Review for Religious cording to law, on the basis of previous written contracts and with the guarantee of perfectly valid signed agreements, etc. (c. 1529)? 65. How are the economic needs of the monastery provided for: by the labor of the community or by alms? 66. What, if any, activity does the community engage in for its own support? CHAPTER II CONCERNING THE RELIGIOUS AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE AND DISCIPLINE 67. What are the different classes, if any, among the members of the monastery? Does harmony exist among the different classes and is fraternal charity observed among them? 68. What is the actual number of those professed of tempo-rary vows and of perpetual vows, according to the various classes? 69. Besides the persons who belong to the institute or society as members, by religious profession or lawful incorporation, are there others who are dedicated or given to it, or the like, without being members? 70. Is provision made in fairness and charity for the spiritual life of these persons and also for their material security? 71. Are there any legitimately approved statutes for them? ARTICLE I Concerning the admission, formation, and profession or incorporation of members 72. Is the condition of the extern sisters regulated according to the statutes promulgated by the S. Congregation on 3uly 16, 19317 73. Are the postulantships properly conducted according to law in the novitiate house (c. 540, § 1), or in houses where perfect religious observance exists (c. 540) ? 74. Was the time assigned by the common law (c. 539) or by the constitutions for the postulantship abbreviated or prolonged? If so,~for how long a time and by what authority? 75. What means are used to arouse and attract vocations? 76. Taking into account the different circumstances of various localities, what causes are regarded as having an influence on the in-crease or diminution of vocations? 77. What are the obstacles which aspirants most frequently have to overcome in order to follow th~ir vocation? 260 September, 195"4 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT 78. Were the documents required by the 'common law (c. 544) and by the constitutions demanded before admission in the case of each aspirant? 79. At least before entrance into the novitiate, were the fol-lowing testimonial letters demanded and obtained: a) The common testimonial letters which are to be given by the local ordinaries and are prescribed for all (c. 544, § 2) ? b) The special testimonial letters which are to be given under oath by the rector or major superior fo~ those who have been in a seminary or a college which is equivalent to an ecclesiastical one, or in a postulantship or novitiate of a religious institute (c. 544, §3)? c) Likewise the testimonial letters which are required in the case.of clerics and professed religious (c. 544, §§ 4, 5) ? 80. Besides the documents and testimonials which are spe-cially prescribed by law or by the constitutions, were further infor-mations which seemed necessary or useful in order to judge with certainty of the vocation and fitness of the aspirants diligently sought (c. 544, § 6)? 8 I. From what impediments¯ or defects, if any, of the common or particular law, were dispensations granted? How often and by what authority was this done? 82. Were aspirants always admitted by the competent su-periors, according to the prescriptions of the law (c. 543) ? 83. Is the right of the institute to demand payment for the expenses of the religious habit and board during the postulantship and noviceship given in the constitutions or customarily recognized by express agreement? 84. Who determines the amount to be paid? 85. How many novices are there at present? 86. Did each and every novice have a complete copy of the constitutions from the beginning of the novitiate? 87. Are ~he novices, according to law and the constitutions, kept separate from the professed, and is any undue communication between them tolerated (c. 564, § 1, 2) ? 88. Did each and every novice before profession make a com-plete and continuous canonical year of noviceship, without counting the first day, in a novitiate house lawfully erected, under the care and direction of a master (cc. 555, § 1, 556, 557) ? 89. Was the noviceship extended or shortened beyond the 261 QUINQUEN.NIAL REPORT Review for Religio. us limits fixed by law (c. 571, §2) and the constitutions? If so, for how long a time and by w.hat authority was this done? 90. Was there always in the novitiate a master of novices duly appointed or elected (c. 560) ? 91. Have the novice master and his socius all the qualifications and all the requisites prescribed by the common law (c. 559, § 1, 2) and the cgnstitutions, or did dispensations have to be asl~ed for" and obtained ? 92. A~ the master and socius free from all offices and minis-~ tries in or out of the house which might interfere with their care a'nd direction of the novices( c. 559, § 3)? 93. Did all the novices, according to c. 569, § 1, before the first profession of simple vows, freely cede the administration, and either cede or dispose of the use and usufruct, of their propett~y? 94. In case the aforesaid cession and disposition were n6t:':duly made before the profession, or in case new property was acquired thereafter, were they made or completed after the profession (c. 569, § 2)? 95. Were any changes of the aforesaid cession and disposition after the profession made always in accordance with c. 580, § 37 96. Did the novices of the monasteries of simple vows, before their first profession of temporary vows, freely make a will in due.: form, valid according to the civil law, regarding their present or future property (c. 569, § 3)? 97. Were any changes in this will which may have been made after profession, made according to c. 583, 2°? . .: 98. Do the superior and council carefully and constan.tly keep-a strict watchfulness as regards admissions? ¯ 99. Has the first profession, after eight 'full .days of spiritual exercises, always been made validly and licitly according to law and the constitutions (cc. 572, 573, 575)? 100. Did the superioresses, two months before admission to the noviceship, and to the first temporary profession, and to perpetual profession, give timely notice to the local ordinary (c. 552, § 1), so that he or his delegate might gratuito.usly conduct the canonical-ex-amination regarding the free and conscious will of the postulant or candidate (c. 552, § 2)?. : 101. Was the prescribed examination always made? ' 102. Is the dowry obligatory, or, on the contrary, is it left en-. tirely or partly optional (c. 547, § 3) ? 262 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT . 103. Was the delivery of .the dowry made according to law (c. 547, § 2) and the constitutions? 104. Were the dowries, immediately after the first profession, always invested by the superioress, with the deliberative vote of her council and the consent of the ordinary of the place where the capi-tal of the dowries is kept (c. 549) ? 105. Were the dowries spent or encumbered in any way before the death of the religious concerned? If so, by what authority Was this done? Were the dowries so spent or encumbered, even though it was done after obtaining lawful permission, afterward restored or cleared of the encumbrance? What is their condition at the present time (c. 549) ? 106. Where and how are the dowries administered? Are the rules of law faithfully observed regarding their administration (cc. 550, 535, § 2)? 107. Is all property which is brought in as dowry, even though it be in excess of the sum required for a dowry in the constitutions or even though there be in ihe congregation no obligation to bring in a dowry, accepted, invested, administered, etc. with the observance of the norms which govern dowries? 108. In case of the departure of a professed religious, for what-ever was needed that she might safely and decently return borne and likewise the personal belongings which t.he novice brought with her at her entrance, in the condition in which they were when she left, restored to the religious departing or transferring~ without the in-come which had a.lready accrued (cc. 551, 570, § 2)? 109. In case of the departure of a professed religious who had been received without a dowry or with an insufficient one, if she was unable to provide for herself out of her own property, did the insti-tute out of charity according to law (c. 643, § 2), give her what-ever was needed thatshe might safely and decently return home and be fittingly supported for a tim~? 110. What, if any, dispensations were necessary for the pro-nouncement of the vows? 111. How many and what sanations-were afterward necessary? 112. Were the temporary vows which are prescribed by law and by the constitutions (c. 574, § 1), when the tittle for which they were taken had elapsed (c. 577, § 1), always renewed according to law (c. 577, § 2), so that no one ever remained without vows? 113. How often was the temporary profession extended beyond 263 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Reoieta for Religious the six-year period allowed by law, and by what authority was this done (c. 574, § 2)? 114. ]Did all the professed of simple vows in orders, within sixty days before their profession of solemn vows, duly make the prescribed renunciation of the property which they actually pos-sessed, in the form of a true cession but not in the form of a will, to whomever they chose, on condition of their future profession (c. 581, § 1)? 115. After the profession was made, were all things immedi-ately done which were necessary in order that the renunciation be effective in civil law (c. 581, § 2) ? 116. Did the superior who received the solemn profession give notice of it to the pastor of baptism in accordance with cc. 470, § 2, 576', § 2? ARTICLE II Concerning the relicjious life and discipline 117. Is perfect common life according'to c. 594, the Rule, and the constitutions observed everywhere? 118. What has been done and is being done positively to safe-guard and promote the virtue and. spirit of poverty? 119. Do superiors and officials, out of religious charity and in order to ward off from the religious occasions of sinning against poverty, provide, within the limits of poverty itself, what is neces-sary and appropriate in the way of food, clothing, and other things? 120. Do they allow the religious to ask for or receive these things from externs? 121. Are the sick and the aged religious, attended to with special care and helped in both body and soul with paternal charity, so that, within the limits of religious poverty, they lack nothi'ng which seems necessary for the recovery ot their .health and for their spir-itual consolation? 122. Did all superiors make it a matter of conscientious duty to be attentively vigilant regarding those things, both in and out of the house, which may easily contain dangers against religious chas-tity ? 123. What kind of cloister is observed? Are the places subject to cloister clearly marked and sufficiently guarded? Are the pre-scriptions of the law and of the constitutions regarding cloister faithfully observed (cc. 589-599; 604) ? 264 ~epte,-nber, 124. frequent, principal 125. 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Were the cases of dispensation from the law of cloister either for going but,- or for entering? Which were the ones? Are difficulties experienced in the observance of cloister, esl~ecially when nuns~ are engaged in the works of the apostolate, of education, etc. ? 126. a) Are the parlors so arranged that what goes on in them ~an be seen from the outside? b) Is the frequency of parlor visits regulated according to the constitutions and religious prudence? 127. Do the rooms which are reserved for chaplains and confeS-sors or preachers have a separate entrance and no internal communi-cation with the quarters of the religious? 128. Is religious discipline observed, and is the,government of superiors made easy by the docility of the subjects? Was it neces-sary often to impose formal precepts in virtue of the vow of obedi-ence? 129. Were such precepts given in due form according to the 'constitutions, and always for a grave reason? 130. Are the Rule and the constitutions faithfully observed (c. 593) ? 131. Are the Rule and the constitutions read publicly at the prescribed times (c. 509, § 2, 1°) ? 132. Do superiors see to it that in all the houses the exercises of piety which are prescribed for every day, every week, every month, every year, or for other fixed times, are faithfully and worthily per-formed according to the constitutions? 133. Do superiors see to it that all the religious: a) Make a retreat every year? b) ,Are present at Mass every day if not legitimately pre-vented ? c) Give themselves to mental prayer every day? d) Attend earnestly to the other offices of piety which are prescribed by the rules and constitutions (c. 595, § 1, 1 ° and 2°) ? 134. Do superiors see to it that all the members are able to be present at community exercises? 135. If choir service is prescribed by the constitutions, is it held exactly and worthily in each of the houses according to the same constitutions and the common law (c. 610, § i), the religious who are bound to choir and not actually lawfully impeded being present? 265 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT 136. Do superiors see to it that priests, clerics in major orders, and the solemnly professed, who were absent from choir, recite the Divine Office privately with attention and devotion (c. 610, § 3) ?. 137. Are the relations between the different members of the house, between superiors and subjects, etc., characterized by a spirit of true charity? 138. Are defects against charity severely corrected? 139. Are superiors watchful that no book~ be used, whether in manuscript or published form, which are not entirely safe? 140. Are the spiritual books which, according to law, the reli-gious use privately, approved by the Church and in keeping with the religious state, and suitable for the spiritual welfare of the indi-vidual ieligious to whom they are permitted? ARTICLE III Concernincj those Who have departed or been dismissed and others who leave the institute 141. a) How many in the house, at the expiration of their. vows, did not renew them, either because they chose not to do so or because they were not allowed to do so? b) How many of the professed of temporary vows were dispensed from their vows during this period, and how many of the professed of perpetual vows were dispensed? 142. Were those who were dispensed from their vows at their own request or with their consent, forced or, without serious and grave reasons and precautions, permitted to leave the religious house before the rescript was duly executed? 143. How many transfers, if any, were there to another insti-tute ? 144. How many apostates and fugitives, if any, were there during the five-year period? 145. a) Since the last report, how many of the professed of temporary vows and how many of the professed of perpetual vows have been dismissed? b) In the dismissal of religious, whether of" temp~[ary or of perpetual vows, were the norms of the common law "('cd." 647, § 2, 4°; 649-672) as well as those of the constitutions observed? Was the same done in regard to not admitting the prqfe~se~l 0f ~emporary vows to the renewal of their vows or to perpetu~il pro-fession (c. 637) ? 266 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT. 146. Were the dismissed of 'temporary vows, while the recourse duly made within ten days was pending (c. 647, § 2; S. C. of Reli-gious, 20 July 1923, AAS, XV [1923], 457), and the dismissed of perpetual vows, before the decree or judgment of dismissal had been confirmed by the Sacred Congregation (cc. 652, 666). forced to leave the institute? 147. What were the cases, and the causes which led to them,, among both the professed of temporary vows and those of per-petual vows, in which they were either sent back to the world on account of grave scandal or very grave harm (cc. 653, 668) or dis-missed by the law itself :(c. 646) ? 148. How many ~ses of exclaustration were there, if any? Were the causes carefull) and conscientiously pondered in the pres-ence of God before the petition was recommended and the rescript executed ? 149. Does the institute take care: a) That indults are renewed in due time, if it seems neces-sary to ask for an extension? b) That the persons who are excloistered lead a worthy religious life and return as soon as possible to the cloister? 150. Do superiors see to it that subjects remain out of the house only for a just and grave reason and for the shortest possible time, according to the constitutions (c. 606, § 2) ? 151. Were 'the prescribed suffrages faithfully and promptly per-formed for all the deceased? " " 152. Do superiors, in accordance with c. 509, § 2, 2°, give to those religious who belong to the class of conversi, instruction in Christian doctrine? And do superiors, carefully attend to the training of these same religious, both before and after their profes-sion, especially during the earlier years, according to the offices~ which are entrusted to them? 153. Do superiors with paternal charity diligently provide also for the bodily health of the conuersi or coadjutors? CHAPTER III C;ONI31:RNING THE WORKS AND MINISTRIES OF THE MONASTERY 154. What works are carried on in the house (apostolate, edu-cation, manual labor for pay) ? 155. Was begging from door to door, according to law 267 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Reoieu2 for Religious (cc. 621, 622) and their own constitutions, done with the required permissions ? 156. Moreover, in begging, were the rules of law (c. 623), the instructions of the Holy See (c. 624), and the norms of the con-stitutions observed ? 157. What precautions are taken in this communication with seculars to avoid harm to the religious and scandal to seculars? 158. How often and by what superiors are the books of Masses of each house examined and signed? 159. As regards the manual stipend of~ Masses, did all the houses obser;ce the decrees of the local ordinaries and the customs of the dioceses according to cc. 831, §§ 2-3; 832? 160. In each of the houses were the obligations of Masses, both perpetual and manual, faithfully satisfied in due time according to cc. 834, 15177 161. Were any special concessions made in this matter, either as regards the reduction of the stipends or intentions, or as to deferring the celebration of the Masses? If so, what were they? CONCLUSION A ~summary compara÷ive judcjmenf recjardln9 fhe stale of fhe monas.fery 162. Is the autonomous monastery or house fully self-sufficient with regard to the personnel needed to fill the various offices of gov-ernment and to carry out its proper work, also with regard to relig-ious formation, as well' as with regard to economic means, so that regular observance can flourish fully? 163. What is to be said about the desire for and the actual striving toward evangelical perfection on the part of the members (cc. 487, 488, 1°) ? 164. In this respect is there in the institute progress.or retro-gression as compared with the preceding five-year period, and how is this manifested or proved? What are the reasons for either the progress or the retrogression? 165. What has been done by superiors during the five-year period to promote the tendency toward perfection and to prevent relaxation? 166. What is to be said summarily about the observance of the: vows and of the provisions of canon law, the Rule, 'and the consti-tutions, both absolutely and in comparison with the preceding five- 268 September, 1954 REGIONAL CONFERENCES AND WORKSHOPS year period ? 167. What are the points of religious discipline which are more easily and frequently violated? I68. What causes may be assigned for the progress in religious observance or for its decline? 169. What has been done by superiors to secure faithful and ~omplete regular observance? 170. As regards capital and finances what is the condition of the house in itself and in comparison v~ith the preceding five-year period ? 171. To what causes is the growth or diminution of capital and income to be attributed ? Given at Rome; from the headquarters of the S. Congregation ~of Religious, December 9, 1948. ALOYSIUS CARD. LAVITRANO, Prefect FR. L. H. PASSETTO, Secretaru REGIONAE CONFERENCES AND WORKSHOPS 1954-55 OF THE CATHOLIC: HOSPITAL AssoCIATION This year's program includes eight such special conferences., The first general subject, The Improvement of Patient Care, is pre-sented for religious in large hospitals on October 4 to 6,.1954, at the Sheraton Hotel,'St. Louis, Missouri. For religious in small hospitals another regional workshop on this subject will be presented Novem-ber 28 to 30, 1954, also at the Sheraton Hotel in St. Louis. Conferences on Medical-Moral Problems are also planned. These special group meetings are presented under the direction of Reverend Gerald Kelly, S.J., of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, con-sultant for the Association's activity in this field. The first is to takd place at St. Michael's Hospital, Grand Forks, North Dakota, October 25 to 27, 1.954. Two others are in the process of development--one for the East. ¯ and another to be held in the Mid-West. Further announcement will be made when this information .is available. On January 17, 18, and 19, 1955, at the Sheraton Hotel in St. Louis, Missouri, there will be a Special Conference for Treasureis (Continued on page 272) ¯, o 269 Questions and Answers 26 Suppose a sister can hear only one Mass on Sunday and during thai' Mass she performs her duty of saying her morning prayer or reading the, Liffle Office: is it possible to fulfill both th~se obligations at one and the same time, according to the mind of the Church? As regards merely the fulfillment of the diverse obligations, there seems to be no difficulty. Even the serious obligation (e.g., of a deacon or subdeacon) of reciting the Divine OtSce in private can be fulfilled while one is hearing a Mass of obligation. Certainly, there-fore, the sister's lesser duties of saying morning prayers or of recit-ing the Little Office can be fulfilled during a Mass of obligation-- unless the constitutions expressly provide otherwise. The "mind of the Church" for religious includes more than the mere fulfillment of obligations; it includes not only what is neces-sary but~ what is appropriate. And in the sense of what is appropri-ate it is certainly the mind of the Church that the prayers prescribed for religious, even when the prescription does not bind under pain of sin, should ordinarily be said at some time other than the 'Sunday Mass of obligation or the weekday community Mass. The saying of such prayers during these Masses should at most be merely by way of exception, e.g., because of the special pressure of other duties. And it seems to us that in these exceptional cases it would be better to follow the Mass in the usual way and to omit the other prayers. If conditions become such that tl'iis "pressure pf other duties" is habitual and not merely exceptional, then superiors should see to it that these ~otber duties are lessened so that their subjects have time for their prayers: --27m If one is rushed at confession time and in the confusion fails to make an act of contritlon.in.the confessional, is the confession invalid? True contrition is certainly necessary for valid absolution; and' according to most theologians some external manifestation of this contrition is also required for validity. But this external manifesta-tion of contrition does not have to be according to any .set formula,. nor does it even have to be expressed in words. A dolorosa confes- 270 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS sio--tbat is, confession itself when sincerely made with a view to receiving absolution by one who, has internal sorrow-~-is~a suffi'cient external sign of the contrition; and absolution given to one who has made such a confession is certainly valid. It is true that we should always train the faithful to make a verbal act of contrition in the confessional, after having confessed their sins. But the making of this verbal act is rather a matter of good procedure--and for some people a means of being sure ot: the requisite expression of sorrow--than an absolute essential As for the case proposed in the question: we would tell any sin-cere religious or devout lay person that the absolution was undoubt-. edly valid and tbat there is no reason for anxiety. --28-- Is a sister superior justified in insisting that her subjects must not drink water before Holy C;ommunion unless there is some real necessity for doincj so? Accordin~ to the ApOstolic Constitution Christus Dominus plain water no longer breaks the Eucharistic fast. No reason either of nec_essity or even of special utility is required for drinking water before Holy Communion. Consequently, a religious superior is no more justified now in insisting that subjects should not drink water without necessity after midnight than she would have been justified before .3anuary 16, 1953, in insisting that subjects should not drink water without necessity before midnight. m29D Is it ever permissible to receive Hob/ Gommunlon without flrs~ cjo[ncj to confession when one has committed a mortal sin? Canon 856 states that one who is conscious of having committed a mortal sin shouldnot receive'Holy Communion without first go-ing to confession. This is the ordinary rule. The canon adds, bow-ever, that in a case of urgent necessity, when there is no opportunity of going to confession, one may receive Holy Comunion after having made an act of perfect contrition. There are many aspects to this question; and all of them require careful explanation. For such explanation the questioner is referred to the article "Confession befo*re Communion," in REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, XII (May, 1953), 135-50. : 271 Q~JESTIONS AND ANSWERS Re~;iew lot Religious --30-- /. If one is in doubt about having given the consent necessary-'for a mortal sin, is it preferable to abstain from Holy Communion until one can get to confession? Generally speaking, it is not preferable.to omit Holy commun-ion; although it might be preferable in some cases, e.g., b~cause a person has a special proneness to laxity. The proper judge c~f such a case is the spiritufil director or confessor of that person. Although it is certainly not obligatory and generally not even preferable to omit Holy Communion because of a do.ubt; yet it is at least advisable--and in our opinion obligatory--for one who has d really solid doubt (and not a mere scruple) about having committed a mortal sin to take some reasonable means of making sure he is in the state of grace before he receives Holy Communion. In the case proposed in the question a reasonable means would be to make an act of perfect contrition for all one's sins, including the doubtful matter. This problem of doubt is also explained more fully in the article referred'to in the preceding question, pp. 139-40. Regional Conferences and Workshops (Continued from page 269) and General Accountants of Religious Groups Conducting Hospi: tals. This particular meeting is especially planned by the Assoda-tion's Council on Financial Management and will focus upon poli-cies, techniques, and procedures involved in the handling of financial affairs of these groups. Other meetings for special groups have also been scheduled. These include a Conference on Collegiate Programs in Nursing Edu-cation at the Sheraton Hotel, St. Louis, February 19 to 21, 1955; a Conference on Accounting for Administration (especially for the small hospital) at the Hotel Piedmont, Atlanta, Georgia, April 18 to 19, 1955; the Western Conference of Catholic Hospitals is spon-soring a Workshop on Purchasing for Hospital Purchasing Officers on April 23 to 24, 1955, at St. Mary's Hospital, San Francisco: also a Conference on Public Relations for Administrators and Public Rela2 tions Officers of Catholic Hospitals--April 23 to 24, 1955, also St. Mary's Hospital, San Francisco, California. 272 THE NEW TESTAMENT. By James A. Klelst, S.J., and Joseph M. Lilly, C.M. The Bruce Publlshln9 Co., Milwaukee. 1954. Pp. bg0. $5.00. The work of Fathers Kleist and Lilly as presented in this book is a marked example of the progress which Scriptural studies in general and New Testament efforts in particular have made in the last fifty years. A quarter of a century ago, appreciating the ad~ vances scholarship had made in the study of the post-classical Greek language as well as in Hellenistic civilization, Father Kleist surmised that the gospels translated from the Greek of that period might convey to the Christian reader a better understanding of Christ's life and message than could be derived from the more or less slavish ren-dition from the Latin Vulgate into quite antiquated English phrase-ology which was' all.tbat the Catholic reader had; he considered that such a translation would afford Catholics the opportunity, in a prac-tical way, of realizing the hope whicb the Church was expressing-- namely that her members should read the Bible more assiduously. He set himself to that task, and the result of his labors makes up nearly half of the present volume. The gospel translation is in clear, flowing, modern literary Eng-lish; it conveys the G/~eek thought accurately. To achieve this ac-curacy the translation interprets the meaning of words and phrases, uses synonyms for the same Greek word to bring out the shades of thought, employs expressions which do not require the learning of a theologian or of an expert exegete to grasp. The word pneutna, for example, is not always translated by "spirit" and the passages in which this word occurs are so well phrased that no commentary is required to explain them. Thus: "Blessed are the poor in spirit" (Mr. 5:3) becomes, "Blessed are the humble souls"; "And sighing deeply in spirit" (Mk. 8:12) becomes, "He sighed from the depths of his soul"; "When Jesus saw the Jews weeping .he grbaned in spirit and was troubled" (Jo. 11:33) becomes, "The sight of them stirred Jesus deeply and shook his inmost soul." There is a pleasing, natural ease, simplicity, and spontaneity throughout the translation. Christ's Words are not, "Woman, thou art delivered from thy in-firmity" (Lk. 13:12), but, "My good woman, you are now rid of your infirmity." Notabl.yhappy is the rendition of 3o. 3:8 which, 273 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious instead of, "So is everyone who is born of the Spirit," reads, "Some-thing like this takes place in everyone born of the Spirit." What~- ever notes are appended to the gospels are the work of Rev. Henr~; Willmering, S.J., New Testament professor at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. The notes are always pointed, clear, concise. All the rest of the translation in this volume is the product of Father Lilly. Emboldened by the various encyclicals on Biblical studies from Leo XIII to Pius XII, his experience as a seminary" professor ot: Sacred Scripture indicating the need of a good transla-tion from the Greek, Father Lilly generously undertook to do all the rest of the New Testament, a task which Father Kleist had said he would never venture to do~ Father Lilly succeeded admirably in his efforts. He concentrated his best energies on the letters of the Apos-tles; only secondarily did he give consideration to the narrative of the Acts of the Apostles. The result is that this narrative does not vary in any notable way from the Confraternity translation, for the phraseology of the two translations is often identical. But in the letters and in the Apocalypse, Father Lilly took greater liberty to clarify the meaning of the texts. A few instances of his excellent work may be here cited: "Who have the fathers, and from whom is the Christ according to the flesh," he expresses as, "The patriarchs are theirs, and from them has been derived the human nature of Christ" (Rom. 9:3). The less intelligible wording of "the work of each will be made manifest, for the day of the Lord will declare. it, since the day is to be revealed in fire. The fire will assay the quality of everyone's work: if his work abides which he has built thereon, he will receive reward; if his work burns he will lose his. reward, but himself will be saved, yet so as through fire" (1 Cor. 3:13-15) is clarified thus: "Each individual's work will be made manifest. The day will make it known because fire will lay it bare, and will test the quality of each individual's work. If the work any-one has put into the superstructure stands firm, he will be rewarded, but if anyone's work is burned up, he will suffer a loss, yet he him-self will be saved, though only by passing, so to speak, through fire." Simple sentences and expressions are expertly turned. Apoc. 4:2 may serve as one example: "Immediately I was in the spirit, and behold there was a throne in heaven," gets this phrasing: "Suddenly I was thrown into an ecstacy. To my surprise, there was a throne set up in heaven." This book is the latest and till~ now the best product of a happy I 27.4 September, 1934 BOOK REVIEWS tendency to which New Testament studies have been yielding in recent years amongst Catholic'English-speaklng scholars. It is a co-ordinated result of two lines of modern effort: to translate from tile Greek rather than from the Latin ~Vulgate, and secondly, to make the translations interpretative rather than rigidly literal. In 1901 Father Seymour Hobart Spencer, O.P., laid a milestone when he translated the four gospels from the Greek; before he died in 1913 he had finished the entire New Testament. Not until 1937, how-ever, was his entire opus published for the first time. Leo XIII's Providentissimus Deus lent spark to this line of effort, and in the 1930s the Westminster Version of the New Testament from the Greek appeared. Both Father Spencer, however, and the Westminster translators employed a prudent restraint in their venturesome task. They kept themselves considerably constrained and adhered largely to literalness in their translations. Yet there was a kind of restiveness arising amongst scholars to offer a translation which would be quite sufficiently interpretative and would' not require much comment of exegetes to explain the meaning of the text. This restiveness began to assert itself in the 1940s. It chose as the object on which it could exercise itself the Latin Vulgate and the reason for this choice was that the more in- .terpretative translation could be read at the Catholic church services. In 1941 the Confraternity translation of the New Testament ap-peared in the United States, and its purpose was rather to modernize antiquated expressions than to translate with the freedom which interpretation requires; but three years later Msgr. Ronald Knox published his work in England with a freedom and ease of phrase-ology hitherto unemployed, modestly interpreting the meaning of the Vulgate. Both these translations, as well as those from the Greek mentioned above, were quite well accepted generally, though in cer-tain circles they did suffer severe criticism. There was something of heroism, tberefore, in carrying out to completion the present work, since this volume, no doubt, will be criticized for precisely the two characteristics which make it a sign of true advancement in .scholarship: it is a translation from the Greek; it is made with a considerable amount of freedom to express in an interpretative Catholic way what the inspired authors of the New Testament are trying to say. The book seems to be a must in the libraries of theologians, scholars, exegetes, priests, and laymen who are" interested in understanding the New Testament. It is not, 275 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious however, the last product of the trend from which it evolved. Some future translator from the Greek may interpert more easily and more clearly passages like 1 Cor. 7:29-35; 9:24-27; 10:29 and 30; but that must await the time when Catholic readers will have become more adjusfed to having a clear, expository text before them to ponder. The present work will help toward that adjustment and is paving the way toward the entrance of the Word of God into the hearts of men.--EDWARD J. HODOUS, S.J. THE CHURCH AND INFALLIBILITY. By Dom B. C. Buffer. Sheed and Ward, New York. 1954. Pp. 230. $3.50. Back in 1889 Dr. George Salmon, Provost ok Trinity College, Dublin, published The Infallibility of the Church, a celebrated pole-mical work in which he vigorously attacked and in the minds of many contemporary Protestant readers thoroughly demolished the "Roman" position on the nature of infallibility, the primacy and infallible teaching authority of the Roman Pontiff, and the legiti-macy if tradition as a font of divine revelation. Two years ago an abridged edition of this work came from the press, and it is in the hope of breaking a lance or two with the "abridged Salmon" that the Abbot of Downside, Dora Christopher Butler, a frequent and gifted contributor to The Downside Review, has e'ntered the lists with the book here under r'eview. It will be no surprise to those who know Dom Butler's profi2 ciency in the field of Patristics and Early Church History to dis-cover that in this altogether irenic rebuttal the Abbot of Downside has time after time driven home through the chinks in Dr. Salmon's armor, chinks that have been in not a few places widened consider-ably by the scientific findings and the more balanced historical eval- .uations of the past fifty years. If the work will prove an ornament to the apologetic section of the school or community library, it may still be said (and I think that Dom Christopher would be the first to agree) that the book is not intended as an organized positive ex-position of the Church's infallibility, its meaning, its necessity, its causes, its organs; nor despite its clarity of presentation and cogency of argumentation will it supply for such an exposition. The reader destined to profit most from the book will be the reader who has already a firm grip on the fundamental principles of the th.eology of the Church, her organization and doctrinal mission. -~S. E. DONLON, S.J: 2 6. September, 1954 BOOK REVIEWS MARY IN OUR LIFE. By William G. Most, Ph.D.P.J. Kenedy and Sons, New York. 19S4. Pp. 323. $4.00. Mar~l in our Life was first written as a series of chapters for Mariology study clubs at Loras College, where the author is associ-ate professor of classical languages. It has the double merit, there-fore, of being instructive in subject matter and at the same time per-sonal and direct in its manner of presentation. The body of the book is divided into twenty-three chapters of about ten pages each that range over a wide area of patristics, dogma, ascetics, and liturgy in their bearing on the general theme that "since God has given Mary an all-pervading place in His scheme for the redemption of man, it follows that if we wish to grow in love of God . . . we will give Mary a corresponding place in our soul-life." Chapter titles like The Popes and Co-redemptrix, Mary on Calvary, Mystical Rose, Spouse of the Holy Spirit, Marian Visions and Revelations suggest the balance of doctrine and devotion which the writer set himself to achieve. The strictly dogmatic section cov-ers the first sixty-five pages, in which the main purpose is to analyse the recent papal statements on Mary's place in the economy of sal-vation. In the remaining fifteen chapters, the principles of the spiritual life are explained in their relation to the Mother of God as the perfect model of sanctity and the channel of all graces. The longest chapter in the book, Pondering in Our Hearts with Mary, is an earnest apologia for the practice of mental prayer among the laity, in imitation of the Blessed Virgin, "whose communion with God in mental prayer or meditation was constant." Eminently prac-tical, it is intended to answer the objection that "Formal meditation may be all right for priests and religious, but how could a working man or woman or a housewife manage to undertake so complex an exercise?" Each chapter is followed by a set of notes, up to several pages in length, which give the sources for the quotations used and further explanation of various problems in the text. Particularly commendable is the frequent use of primary sources, e.g., from the Fathers, papal documents, and writings of the saints. By actual count, there are 530 reference notations, with an emphasis on mod-ern writers such as Garrigou-Lagrange. The latter part of the book contains an Appendix and a set of Questions for Discussion. The Appendix supplies a certain amount of documentary detail that was properly omitted from the body of the book, for example, a llst of passages from the Fathers on the 277 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious New Eve, papal texts on the question of Mary's Co-redemption of the human race, St. Dominic as author of the Rosary, and the his-toricity of the vision of St. Simon Stock. The Questions for Dis-cussion are intended for private, class, or study-dub use. Approxi-mately two hundred questions, answerable from the text, are pointed to arousing ~houghtful reflection: for instance, "Did Mary merit to be the Mother of God? . . . Is devotion to Mary optional?" As an instance of the mature balance which characterizes the en-' tire book may be cited the treatment of Marian Visions and Revela-tions. With scores of possible pitfalls, the author carefully dis-tinguishes the meaning and necessity of private and public revela-tion, explaining that "ali the means that we need for salvation are contained in public revelation." Some people, he complains, practi-cally identify their devotion to the Mother of God with recounting the stories of visions and revelations. "On the other hand, through the right attitude we can derive great value from the messages given to us by Our Lady in such genuine apparitions as those at Lourdes and Fatima," whose genuinity is attested by the Church's official ap-proval.-- JOHN A. HARDON, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wis. The Catholic College in the World Today. By Edward A. Fitzpatrick. The author, retiring president of Mount Mary College, here weaves into book form a series of addresses about Catholic col-lege education. He stresses the opportunity of the Catholic college to leaven present-day American culture with the riches of Catholic cul-ture, particularly its emphasis on moral and spiritual values and its focus on the importance of the individual. He looks to crusading graduates to assume their manifest duty to carry out this mission. Pp. 269. $6.00. His Heart in Our Work. Thoughts for a Priestl~t Apostolate. Edited by Francis L. Filas, S.J. This book is a collection of articles selected from Alter Christus, the periodical published from 1937 to 1950 as an American quarterly bulletin of The League of Sacerdotal Sanctity. Although the essays here presented were originally meant for priests, to provide them with material for meditation and with exhortation in their work, still they will benefit religious .and others 278 September: 1954 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS as well. The brevity of the articles (few run over five pages) and the pleasing variety of subjects included (Holy Spirit, Sacred Heart, B1. Virgin, St. Joseph, Apostolate, Prayer, Virtues, Liturgy) m

Issue 9.4 of the Review for Religious, 1950. ; ~uesfions Answered, Books I~evi~wed~ -Report~+o~om~ RI::VIi=W FOR Ri::LI IOUS VOLUME IX JULY, 1"950 NUMBER CONTENTS MEMOIR OF ALFRED SCHNEIDER~-Gerald Kelly, S.J . 169 THE "LITTLE" VIRTUES--Stephen Brown, S.J . 176 ADJUSTMENT OF NEGRO CHILDREN TO A MIXED PAROCHIAL SCHOOL--A Sister of the Holy Names 179 OUR cONTRIBUTORS . 184 ATTEND TO READING--Augustine Klaas, S.J . 185 BOOK REVIEWS-- St. Teresa of Jesus; Storm of Glory; Purgatory; Psychiatry and Asceti-cism . 197 BOOK NOTICES . 201 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 203 FOR YOUR INFORMATION-- Passionist Ghampion; Company of Mary; Servants of Mary; Little Office; Varia . 205 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 18. How to Fill the Water Cruet . ; . 207 19. The Perplexed Conscience . 207 20. Several Hosts to One Communicant . 208 REPORT TO ROME . 209 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1950. Vol. IX, No.,4. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, a~d November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyright, 1950. by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscfiptlon price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before wr|t|ng to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Memoir 6t:. All:red chneider Gerald Kelly, S.3. ~N OUR MARCH number (p. 112) we announced the sudden death of Father Alfred F. Sc, hneider, S.3. Shortly after this announcement a loyal friend of the Review wrote to us: "The notice about Father Alfred Schneider made'me make remembrance of him. Now I understand that note of gentleness and considerateness which I always found in his prompt and courteous replies." This note is typical of what scores of others might have written. During his years as editorial secretary Father Schneider carried on most of our editorial business with subscribers and authors; and the number of those who benefited by h'is prompt and kindly service is very large. These, we feel sure, would like to know more about him than we were able to put into a brief notice. Another reason for the present sketch is the value of Father Schneider to the Review itself.¯ We are not waxing poetic when we say that he brought us hope in our darkest hour. Our charter sub-scribers will remember that we had hardly launched this enterprise when war, with all its problems, was upon us. The war made it difficult to get materials and raised the price of such as were available. The war and the postwar period made such demands on college and seminary personnel that many priests and religious who would have helped us with articles had not the leisure. And this same shortage of personnel made it necessary for the editorial board to handle countless details for which they were not prepared. Despite the fact that we had the generous help of Jesuit scholastics and young priests, our early years were very dark. The difficulties just outlined grew in intensity through the early ¯ years of our publication until the middle of 1944. That was when Father Schneider brought relief. We do not wish to imply that, without him, we should have had to discontinue publication---only God knows that; but we can certainly say that his. help towards th~ continuance of this Review was immeasurable, if not absolutely essential. The following pages are not a "biography" of Father Schneider. For the most part they simply record the present writer's personal impressions gleaned through more than five years of intimate col-laboration with Father Schneider. These memories are supplemented, 169 GERALD KELLY Ret,qeto for Religious however, with data supplied by others and with a few facts obtained " from Father.Schneider's notes. Alfred F. Schneider was born in St. Paul, Minnesota, February 8, 1899. He was one of the oldest of a large family. He attended St. Agnes Grade School, took a two-year commercial course at St. Thomas College, and went to work. After several years of steno-graphic work in various business houses he became secretary to the President of the St. Paul-Minneapolis Street Car Company. During these years he managed to cover a regular high school course by attending night school. His business and stenographic experience was obviously an invaluable asset to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. He was an excellent typist, a good bookkeeper, and, of course, he knew shorthand. For myself, I found his shorthand both enviable and exasperating. Often I sat at my desk green-eyed as I watched him make notes with light-ning rapidity. Often, too, was I exasperated when I found on my desk a manuscript, the margin of which was covered with "hen scratches"--the common designation in our office for his shorthand notations. The exasperation, incidentally, did not end with his death. Some books he had been reviewing contained only a few scraps of paper covered with the "hen scratches"; and his retreat notes and personal notes, which I was privileged to examine, were scarcely more revealing. I am told that when he first considered the priesthood his thoughts were directed toward the diocesan clergy; later--for some reason contained perhaps in his shorthand legacy--they centered on the Jesuits. At the age of twenty-four he went to Campion College, Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin, to review his Latin and other studies. He entered the novitate at Florissant, Missouri, on August 8, 1924. In a Jesuit novitiate (and very likely in other novitiates) a man of twenty-five is considered a sort of patriarch. Regulations to th~ contrary notwithstanding, such men are often christened "Pop." Father Schneider was no exception to this contrary-to-regulations custom; he became Pop Schneider. Moreover, because of his com-paratively venerable age he was transferred to the Juniorate after having completed only one year of novitiate. Among us, these older novices who follow the Juniorate regime during their second year of noviceship are sometimes referred to as "skullcap Juniors." The origin of this expression seems to be that "once upon a time" ~he novices following the Juniorate order wore skullcaps to distinguish 170 July, 1950 MEMOIR OF ALFRED SCHNEIDER them from the ordinary novices, who had no special head covering, and from the full-fledged Juniors, who had taken their vows and were supposed to wear the biretta.' As amatter of fact, though there were several "skullcap Juniors" while I was at Florissant, I never saw a skullcap except on some venerable lay Brother. On the occasion of his first vows, August 15, 1926, the Juniors gave their "skullcap" confrere a grand reception; and his age did not prevent him from responding with as much warmth as would the youngest novice. In a letter to his parents, afte'r having expressed great joy o'~er his religious profession, he added: "I was the only ,lunio~? among the vow men and my fellow- Juniors gave me a specially warm reception. A huge bouquet of snowballs stood on my desk, and a smaller bouquet of other flowers; and then there were letters, and notes of congratulation, with little personal notes, and holy cards, so that when I sat down to read them I felt like a big business man opening his morning's mail. I believe that every Junior in the house had something for me. May God bless them all a thousand times for their kindness.''* His warmth was not confined to his fellow-Jesuits. In this same letter he very beautifully expressed his affection for and gratitude to his parents: "It would, of course, be impossible for me to tell you all that I felt or thought or did on, such a never-to-be-forgotten day as yester-day; but I don't want you to think for a moment that now I am wholly cut off from you. It is true I now belong to the Lord, but my love for the best father and mother in the world is not one whir diminished. The Lord would be ill-pleased with me were I ever to forget the big debt of gratitude that I owe you. It. is only too true that one does not appreciate father and mother.' until one is separated from them; and if I have not always shown you the love, respect, and gratitude that I owe you, I will try now to make up for it by my prayers and true love for you. So, do not think that in giving a son and daughter to Christ [one of his sisters is in the convent] that you are losing. No, Mother and Dad, you are gaining immeasur-ably; and I feel certa,¯ l,n that as the years roll o{n you wdl understand that more and more. 1During my tine at Florissant a "skullcap .lunior" named Peter A. Brooks took his vows. The ,lunlors decorated his desk not only with flowers but with a large sign bearing the words, "Peter Noster." Not so many y~ars later he became "Pater Noster" when he was made Provincial oi~ the Missouri P}ovince. As provincial, he obtained permission for us to start this Reoiet~ and asstste~ us with constant encour-agement during our early years. 171 GERALD KELLY Reoieto tot Religiotts The years did roll on. From 1927 to 1930, Father Schneide~ made his philosophical studies at Mount St. MichaeI's, near Spokane, Washington; from 1930 to 1932, he taught at Campion; and from 1932 to 1936, he made the course of theology at Woodstock Col-lege, Woodstock, Maryland. He was ordained at Woodstock in June, 1935. For the spiritual formation of a Jesuit tbd most important single period is the "Year of Third Probation," commonly called the ter-tianship. During this year, and especially during the long retreat which is made near the beginning of the year, one crystallizes the ideal that has been gradually forming during the preceding years of training. Father Schneider made his tertianship at Cleveland, Ohio, from the beginning, of September, 1936, to the end of June, 1937. For the most part, the spiritual notes made during his long retreat are "hen scratches"--absolutely unrevealing, as far as I am concerned; fortunately, however, the principal items of his ]Election are in long-hand. Among his personal needs he lists the "grace to be an exem-plary priest and Jesuit." That he received this grace and that he co-operated with it admirably would be the unhesitating testimony . of all who lived with him here at St. Mary's. Of very special interest is the fact that be considered human respect and indolence to be the principal obstacles in his pursuit of perfection. This item aptly illustrates the old saying that one never knows the true spiritual stature of a man unless he knows his "old Adam." During all the time I knew him I revered him as a man of principle and industry; and I feel sure that all the others in our office bad similar sentiments. We would not have suspected that he could ever seriously accuse himself of either human respect or indolence. If these vices represented his "old Adam," then in him the "new Adam" seems to have attained a complete victory. Afte'r tertianship Father Schneider was assigned to St. Mary's for two years of private study of canon law. The original plan had been to send him to Rome for a doctorate, but this had to be changed because of the condition of his health. In 1939 he began a series of rapid changes which included two years of teaching at St. Louis University, one year as assistant at the parish of St. Ferdinand's, Florissant, two more years at Campion, then back to St. Mary's in the fall of 1944 as editorial secretary of the Retffew. 'It was his health, not his temperament, that accounted for these many changes. An exceptionally talented man, as well as docile and co-operative, he 172 dulg, 1950 MEMOIR OF ALFRED SCHNEIDER would have been an asset to any college; but he was not strong enough to follow the regular schedule of a high school or college teacher. His assignment to the Reoiew was a b!essing to all concerned. For himself, the flexibility of his schedule allowed him to portion out his work according to his strength. For us, his varied talents made him the ideal secretary. Not only was he efficient at book-keeping, typing, and business details, as I have already mentioned; but his knowledge of theology and canon law, plus a generous endowment of good taste, made him an excellent judge of manu-scripts. Add to these the fact that he was a careful editor and proof-reader, and it is easily seen that his service to us was invaluable. His judgment that a manuscript should be rejected was always sympathetic and was never made without a second reading. But once made, his opinion was very definite; and he was no respecter of persons, not even of editors. (This may be one reason why I was amazed to discover that he had ever considered human respect to be one of his failings!) In my own files are several manuscripts which, in kedping with his suggestions, "await revision before publication." Attached to one of these manuscripts is a neatly typed note bearing this verdict: "The examples given in this article are of relatively rare occurrence in religious life. If you could add some that have more or less daily application, I should think it would enliven the article, especially the first part.---A.F.S., S.J." This is typical of his prac-tical criticisms; he always thought in terms of the readers. Efficiency in handling office details made it possible for him to go out fairly frequently to give retreats, Forty Hours' devotions, and days of recollection. He loved this work and seems to have done it remarkably well. His notes made for retreats, conferences, and ser-mons are filled, of course, with the inevitable "hen scratches"; but there are sufficient longhand and typed notations to indicate that everything was well planned. Moreover, reports were always favor-able. As one Sister superior put it, "He gave us an excellent retreat, one that we shall remember the rest of our lives." To this statement she added, "He reminded me of P~re Ginhac." This last remark referred not only to his solid spirituality, but also to his seriousness. Certainly his appearance was serious. He was tall (well over six feet), gaunt, more than semibald, dark-complexioned-- a perfect replica of the traditional, picture of the ascetic. And he was of serious disposition, too. A man who begins .173 GERALD KELLY Review For Religious each day with the realization that it may be his last is not prone to levity. But as he had the gravity of the saint, he also had the saint's sense of humor. By this Imean a keen and gentlemanly sense of humor. It did not respond to the crude or the unchaiitable, but it reacted instantaneously to the wholesomely amusing. He often com-plained to me that the Review tended to become too heavy, that it needed a lighter touch. He particularly liked the articles of our Fran-ciscan contributors, Father Claude Kean and Father Richard Leo Heppler, because of their cheerytone. In his last act of censorship for the Review he chuckled repeatedly while reading "Eyes Right?" by Father Richard Leo. The next day, scarcely ten minutes before we found him dead on the floor of the office, be was joking with Father Ellis. I have several times referred to the suddenness of his death. In one sense it was very sudden. Father Ellis and I left the office, leaving Father Schneider working at his desk. A few minutes later Father Ellis heard a crash, rushed back to the office, and found Father Schneider stretched out on the floor. Apparently he had left his desk to put something in a filing cabinet and as he turned back toward the desk he was stricken either by a heart attack or by a cerebral hem-orrhage. There was no sign of warning or of struggle; death must have come like the snap of a light bulb. Yet, in another sense, it was not sudden for him. Before he entered the Society a thyroid condi-tion had damaged his heart, and from the early days of his religious life he had known'that he had only a threadlike hold on life. At any moment,the thread might snap. Perhaps it was his coflsciousness of impending death that made him so orderly. His person, his room, his desk, his notes and accounts were always neatly arranged. His record of Mass intentions was kept with perfect clarity right up to the day of his death. During 1948-49 he had much extra work to do, especially in functioning as minister of this large house; and this forced him to get behind in balancing his office books. In the early weeks of 1950, despite very serious headaches, he worked assiduously to bring these accounts up to date. This was accomplished just a week or two before he died. As a boy, Father Schneider had loved sports; in the Society, however, his weakened heart prevented him from taking any active part in athletics. He showed his devotion both to baseball and to his brethren by assuming .the unattractive avocation of umpire. Later, 174 dulg, 1950 MEMOIR OF ALFRED SCHNEIDER even the umpiring had to-cease; but his interest continued. To the day of his death he could give with animation and precision the batting averages, pitching records, and so forth, of various teams and ~ndividuals over a long period of years. Another recreational taste cultivated in his youth was for good music. This, too, remained with him through the years; his occasional opportunities of listening to a broadcast of an opera or a ~symphony were a source of great joy to him. Looking back on the life of a friend, one can usually find many aspects under which to summarize the salient factors. One such gen-eral aspect of Father Schneider's life would be his maturity. He had a definite ideal of priestly and religious holiness and he strove methodically to attain it. He had a tendency to scrupulosity, but, at least in his later years, he was the master, not the slave, of this tendency. For the most part, he solved his own problems; when be needed advice be asked for it and followed it calmly. A man of strong likes and dislikes, as well as of vehement temper, he controlled these emotions in the interests of charity and of his own mental peace. He once told me that he had to be careful to read nothing about Communism in the late evening because such accounts usually made him angry and deprived him of needed ~leep. He adjusted admirably to the inconveniences and frustrations consequent to his illness. He was a good companion at recreation, especially a good listener; he was not the type to leave the little details that make for pleasant and efficient community living to "the other fellow." Another aspect under which I might summarize my impression of Father Schneider's life is suggested by Father Louis Hertling, S.3., in his manual of ascetical theology (Tbeologia Ascetica). In the last part of this book Father Hertling discusses the norms for heroic virtue described by Prosper Lambertini (later Benedict XIV) in his treatise on The Beatit~cation and Canonization of the Servants of God. According to Father Hertling, the pen picture of the saintly religious runs as follows: "He loves his own institute. He observes the rules, even the slightest. He keeps to his dell. He observes both juridical and real poverty. He is &hgent in carrying out his duties ~n rehglon. He ~s modest ~n exterior deportment. H~s separation from the world and worldly things is real. He is reverent towards diocesan priests and members of other religious institutes. He makes the spiritual exer-cises prescribed by rule. He is indefatigable in labor, but modest, and 175 STEPHEN BROWN Revieu~ for Religious without self-seeking.''2 To this list, I might add a few points given by Father Hertling in his sketch of the holy diocesan priest: reverence and earnestness in the things that pertain to divine worship; cultivation of theological knowledge; diligence in preaching and hearing confessions. I cannot say whether Father Schneider practised all these virtues of the priest and religious to a heroic degree; but I feel sure that in his final exam-ination on them be must have bad a very high grade. The "Lit:t:le" Vir!:ues Stephen Brown, S.J. IN SERMONS and various spiritual instructions we are ever hearing repeated those great words, Charity, Mortification, Hu-mility, Faith, Self-sacrifice, Perseverance, and the like. They have become so familiar that we are apt not to PaY attention to them, or, if we do, they awe us with the thought of the lofty vir-tues they stand for. But there are other virtues which the preachers do not so commonly preach about and which yet are worthy of thought. St. Francis de Sales used to call them the "little" virtues. Here is a characteristic passage from one of his letters: "Let us prac-tise certain little virtues proper to our littleness, virtues that are exer-cised rather by going down than going up, and therefore not so hard on our legs--patience, forbearance, service, affability, tolerance of our own imperfection, and.other similar little virtues.". If the great virtues seem too much for us, glorious ideals, no doubt, but so far away and so high above us, we may console our-selves with the thought that we can reach the same end by practising the "little" virtues. We are not called on every day to plank down ten-dollar bills or sign checks for I know not how many dollars. No, we pay our modest dimes or quarters, not disdaining even a copper or two, if more be needed. An hour may come, no doubt, in our lives when God will ask us for our little all. And then, no doubt, He will provide us with grace to make the sacrifice. But meantime we keep on paying our little daily installments. There are people who--if not in theory, certainly in practice-- 2The translation is not literal. 176 Ju!g, 1950 THE "LITTLE" VIRTUES make little of the little virtues. They are ready to be charitable, but in the meantime forget to be merely polite. There are others who have great respect, no doubt, for purity and chastity, but are not overparticular about ordinary modesty. And those are not unknown who practise mortification but on occasion are quite likely to insist on getting the best of what is going. There are even people who extol religion but deprecate piety. Yet it seems to me that a certain saying of Our Lord to the effect that "he that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in that which is greater" (Luke 16:10) has an application here. And again: "W~I1 done, thou good servant, because thou hast been faith-ful in a little, thou shalt have power over ten cities" (Luke 19:17). We might take the great virtues one by one and descant on the little virtues that go to make them up. Humility is a formidable virtue. But we might begin with it by being modest about our own achievements or refrain from making the conversation turn about our merits. That doesn't seem too hard. Abnegation is a hard word, and no doubt a hard thing, but we might start by occasionally letting other people have their way. It is a little virtue without a name, this art of giving in--at all events, I cannot put a name to it. And so we might go on. But lest our thoughts become too scattered let us fix them for a moment on those "little" virtues that are the small change of charity. I have menti6ned politeness. It may be merely the outcome of good breeding--and wherever it comes from how welcome it is! But it may also be a real virtue. To say the least, as one writer puts it, in order to be holy it is not necessary to be boorish. A man may be actually a gentleman as well as a saint. To another little virtue, cordiality, St. Francis de Sales devotes one of his wonderful confer-ences. After explaining what he means by it, he says it ought to be accompanied by two other virtues, one of which may be called affability and the other cheerfulness. "Affability," he goes on, '~is a virtue which spreads a certain agreeableness over all the business and serious communications we have with one another; while cheerful-ness is that which renders us gracious and agreeable in our recrea-tions and less serious intercourse with one another." How much the one and the other might, and no doubt do, help to oil the wheels of life. St. Ignatius LoYola set value on these little virtues, for he objected to wrinkles on the nose. There is another modest little virtue well worthy of considera-tion, and that is considerateness. It is practised by the person who 177 not only remembers your existence but ac(ually avoid~ hurting your feelings or rubbing you the wrong way, as the saying goes. He refrain~ from needless noise (hearken all ye who live overhead!). He remembers the nerves of nervous people; he does not ask embarrassing questions, and abstains from comment where comment might be unkind or inopportune. It is the most unobtrusive of little virtues, and we are often unaware of it in other people. But we are only too well aware of the lack of it when it is absent. Politeness, urbanity, courtesy may be taken as practically synonymous. And then there is obligingness. Who does not like and value the obliging man? But, like all virtues, it must steer a clear course between extremes-~between grumpiness and disobligingnes, on the one hand, and subservience, not to say flunkeyism, on the other. And what of companionableness or sociability? What of helpfulness? What of tactfulness? They are all just aspects of charity-~charity as it works out in daily life. Nevertheless, besides the people who despise the little virtues through a delusion that they are practising the great ones, there are also people sincerely aiming at higher things who are apt to neglect these virtues as merely natural. Well, everything that is natural is not wrong, nor even negligible. God is the ~iuthor of nature as well as of grace. Man pervbrts it or wrests it to purposes of his own. Moreover, these virtues need not be merely natural. Motive or inten-tion can raise them to the supernatural plane. And the minor virtues that center round charity have a peculiar value of their own. They are social virtues: they concern not ourselves alone but those about us. They help to make life happier for both ourselves and them. And I think we may even say that they help to make us Christlike. Is there one of them that the Master did not practise, one of them that He would have thought beneath Him? And, after all, the littleness of these virtues lies not so much in themselves or their results as in the things and circumstances that occasion the practice of them--trifling words, looks, gestures, mere silences. They are virtues of meal time and recreation time, of the breakfast table, the fireside, and the bus. But they have echoes in heaven. [EDITORS' NOTE: This article is the introduction to what we hope will be a series of articles on "The Little Virtues" by Father Brown. For' another of his articles on a similar topic see "Concerning Patience," in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, "VII, 141.] 178 Adiust:ment: ot: Negro Children t:o a Mixed Parochial School A Sister of the Holy Names ST. JOACHIM'S was not always an interracial school. From its remote beginnings it had served a French national parish. When we first began to enroll the colored the very novelty of each isolated case brought the thrill of pioneering. Five years ago we eased into our present position by accepting Catholic colored children on a larger scale. Naturally others not of the faith sought admission. Some few, at the discretion of the principal, were admitted. Each year since then our colored enrollment has increased until this year seventy-five per cent of our student body is colored. Because we started with Catholic children we did not experience the same difficulties at first that we met later. There was some initial resentment shown by our white pupils but this soon changed to admiration. Now there is a calm and unquestioning acceptance of their biracial school. The very few families who transferred their children to other schools because of the change were no great loss. We Sisters of the Holy Names have several schools for colored children in Florida, as well as five missions in South Africa. But this was our first attempt at interracial education on a large scale. .Hor-rified gasps met our early efforts; but, perhaps to the disappointment of the scandalized, no major issue has yet arisen involving color. Nor, with the grace of God, will any arise. With no established precedent known to us, we have had to feel our way. The results have been happy. Let me begin with some don'ts. Never favor a colored child in the classroom. He wants to be treated like the others, not better. I'll always remember the first colored boy I taught. Everything he said or did seemed amusing, and I had difficulty suppressing my smiles. He soon took advantage of my good nature, occupying the limelight for the remainder of the year. The next year I treated him like the others and we both spent a more profitable year. Similarly, don't even seem to mistreat him. He is likely to assume that you're doing it because of his color. If he deserves punishment and under-stands why you are inflicting it, he will submit without difficulty. But you have lost a friend if he suspectsyou of partiality on the basis 179 SISTER OF THE HOLY NAMES Revtew for Religious of color. Be fair, then, in meting out punishment. If two or more are involved, punish all or excuse all. This may seem obvious. We have a classic incident here which we refer to as the Davis Incident. Mr. Davis, a Negro, is a World War I veteran, a man who married late in life and has a philosophy of life all his own. He is moreover very strict with his children and wants to co-operate with the school in every way. Last year a new white family, the 2osephs., moved into the neighborhood. The children came to our school. Instead of going home one day at dismissal time,, Davis Junior and Joseph Junior chased each other up and down the church steps. Both boys were taken to the school "court" where the Patrol Boys arraign those who disobey school ordinances. The Sister in charge, seeing 2oseph Junior in heart-melting tears, excused him. It was his first offense, and she knew he wouldn't do it again. Davis Junior, on the other hand, was awaiting his punishment like a man. He had been to our school for a full year: therefore he should have known better. Hence, a penance for Davis. That night Mr. Davis held his own court in the convent parlor with the Sisters as accused. He insisted that it was only just either to punish both boys or to excuse both. "But the other boy is new and not familiar with the school customs," we hedged. "All the more reason for punishing both to prevent further breaches," came the relentless reply. After much discussion, Mr. Davis very touchingly ended with, "If you don't punish the white boy (God bless you, Sisters), please don't punish mine." Don't be antagonistic. If you don't like the colored and can't treat them fairly, ask to be changed. Naturally very sensitive, they resent the slightest tendency a teacher may have to dislike them. Per-sonally, I have to think twice beford I list pupils as colored or white. I simply forget the color. They are all little ones to be encouraged, checked or admonished, urged, and taught; but never children of one race or another. Other Sisters tell me they have the same experience. Now for the positive side. Be strict but kind. Strictness will never be resented if they understand that it is for their own good. In most cases their parents are strict (we think sometimes too strict), but the fact remains that their children show a much higher respect for the parents than do the white children we have at present. Of course we must keep in mind that the pupils we teach come, for the most part, from the poorer homes. ¯ There are four large well-equipped public schools within walking distance. In spite of this fact, the parents make great sacrifices to keep their children with u~. dut~,1950 INTERRACIAL SCHOOL ADJUSTMENT As' one earnest mother put it: 'TII work my fingers to the bone before I'I1 be so foolish as to take my boy out of St. Joachim's." Another non-Catholic mother who works nights to pay the fees answered her employer, when be endeavored to persuade her to send her children to'the public school: "As far as I can judge, the Catholic school is giving the better education. The best is none too good for them. If I have to stop eating, they will go to the Catholic school." School standards must be set high and maintained. Nothing mediocre will suffice. Colored parents want for .their children what they have never had: a solid religious education. Though theyhave little.respect for easily-won laurels, they s6metimes expect miracles once their children are in our hands. In this connection a strange (or perhaps not so strange) fact merits attention here. Many chil-dren have come to us from special classes for ungraded pupils in the public schools. (I have five such in my own class.) All, without exception, show a marked improvement. ,We have found that they can learn, in some cases as well as or better than the average pupil. One was an inveterate truant. He has not missed a day of school since he came to us. Is it the personal touch? I don't know. Give plenty of homework. Most parents want to help their children and incidentally learn something themselves. True, a few of them are college graduates. Several more have gone through high school. But the majority have had nothing more than an inter-mittent schooling in the "South." Most home backgrounds are therefore apparently not conducive to scholarship. Yet our colored pupils lead their white classmates in scholastic achievement in every grade. We have found it preferable to enroll new colored students in the lower grades only. They are more amenable, at the age of five or six, to discipline and training than they are when they enter a Cath-olic school for the first time in their early teens. Invariably, non- Catholic pupils accepted for the upper grades are problems. They come with their attitudes fixed and their characters strongly devel-oped along paths that conflict with our teaching aims. Consequently, only Catholic children are accepted into the school for the higher grades; the lower grades are open to all who satisfy the entrance requirements. After two or three year~ with us, these children are more docile to our teaching, their behavior is decidedly improved, and their wholesome outlook on life is reflected in the family" circle. Many parents ask to take religious instructions or are importuned by their children to do so within a year or two. 181 SISTER OF THE HOLY NAMES Reoiew t~or Religious Among the fine qualities which we have had abundant oppor-tunity to admire in our colored people, I'd stress their co-operation, their cleanliness (in spite of their tremendous housing difficulties), their high ideals, and last, but certainly not least, their attraction to and love of things spiritual. Never have we received from our white pupils the co-operation and encouragement which the colored have given. Last fall we needed window shades in our classrooms. Those shades which we could pull down either stayed down or came down altogether. Some windows had none to pull down. The mothers of our colored pupils were invited to discuss the matter. They came, nearly every one, conducted the meeting in.parliamentary style~ spon-sored a very successful party, and really amazed us. We now have new window shades on every window in every classroom. Colored parents follow the behavior and the studies of their chil-dren very closely. They frequently telephone or stop a minute after school hours to find out how Isaiah or Donna is progressing. The bimonthly report is not just another card to sign but a meaningful record which both parents and pupils take seriously. Suppose Wood-row is not behaving properly: a note to his mother sets him right. Should Dorsilla become negligent in her studies, a phone call brings results. Thirty of my forty-five pupils are colored. I find my most care-ful workers among them. Boys especially surprise me by their atten-tion to details, their striving for perfection. They would rather not hand in any paper than one that is poorly written or has a mistake on it. On the whole, I have found them clean and neat physically as well as morally. Of course there are some who are untidy, but they are the exception. The colored have high ideals. Their standards are set for the best in everything; such at least is my experience. That is one reason why our Catholic faith appeals so strongly to them. Some of the parents have made mistakes in their own lives; they are eager to fielp their children avoid the pitfalls into .which they themselves have fallen. They see and appreciate the difference between the behavior of the public-school children and our pupils (speaking again of our own neighborhood). Therefore they make untold sacrifices to insure the best training, the best instruction, the best education for their dar-lings. They are not living aimlessly. They have ambitious futures outlined. The children themselves are imbued with their parents' high ideals. You would perhaps be surprised to hear these poor people express 182 19.50 INTERRACIAL SCHOOL ADdUSTMENT their religious opinions. They are hungry for God. They are seeking not a "revival" religion but one that is solid, secure, and authoritative. One family, whose children were among our first Catholic colored pupils, boasts two altar boys. These boys refused so absolutely to go to a public school that thei~ mother was obliged to send them to St. Benedict the Moor's boarding school in Mil-waukee. There they were baptized and made their first Holy Com-munion. The following year they came to us. The older bo3~, a senior altar boy now, is fidelity personified. He serves the nine o'clock Mass every Sunday, rain, snow, or sunshine. He is an honor student at the Catholic high school he attends. Both boys are fre-quent communicants. And all this, despite the fact that neither mother nor stepfather is Catholic. An aunt who teaches in a special school in New York, also a non-Catholic, made several trips West to assure herself of her nephews' educational progress. Each time she has expressed her admiration and appreciation of Catholic education. Could you but come and see for yourself how nonexistent are the bogeys of interracial education, my explanations would be needless. In class, as well as in church, no distinction is made in seating. Side byside they learn their lessons, say their prayers, play their games. Side by side, too, they bear Mass, receive Holy Communion, and serve at the altar. In instructing the many parents who seek bap-tism, the priests in charge of our parish believe in the "slow but sure" adage. They try the perseverance and constancy of their catechumens before baptism. How fervent these colored converts are. Yes, a very few grow careless with the years: but of course as much can be said of our lifelong Catholics. Many of our newly-converted colored families move to better neighborhoods. Yet, some of the children continue to come to our school, although it means coming halfway across the city by bus or streetcar. Others enroll in the nearest Catholic school; the same school might have refused them entrance a year before. It is our consolation to know that they still receive a Catholic education in their changed circumstances. We plant, others water; but God gives the increase. Our first fully-interracial' graduation took place last year. All these graduates are at present in Catholic high schools. They .are continuing their Catholic education side by side with white students, partaking in all school activities on an equal basis. Now to give some general impressions. Some tendencies must be checked. But they are the tendencies which historians tell us are 183 A SISTER OF THE HOLY NAMES manifested by any minority group. Those who sigh over the diff-culties of our present-day teaching efforts forget the very real diffi-culties they encountered a few years ago with o, tber minorities. Besides, every authority recognizes that the already difficult task of teaching has been made doubly hard by the weakening of family dis-cipline, The undesirable traits which I mention are not monopolized by our colored brethren. Fighting, for instance. Resentment. In-feriority complex. These have to be checked rigorously and sen-sibly. We rarely experience difficulties in this regard between the races. Usually it is the colored who quarrel among themselves (or the white as the case may be). Name-calling is unheard of between white and colored. By taking these youngsters in the lower grades, we are succeeding, with the invaluable aid of parents and priests, in teaching them to live peaceably with one another; to regard all men (even if all men do not so regard them) as friends and brothers: to face their difficulties with courage, confident that with God's help they can succeed here and hereafter. We have iiadustrious pupils and lazy ones, bright ones and dull, quick and slow, polite and thoughtless. But these categories are no respecters of color. Racial tensions develop not in school but in the homes where an older generation, grown fearful, sows the seeds of strife and disunion. With us, the teachings of the Church are fearlessly taught. Non- Catholics are expected to take part in. all religion classes. What a beautiful object lesson a colored altar boy can be as, paten in hand, he serves the priest at the Communion rail. It is with no mere mouthing of fine phrases that we teach the lesson that a compassion-ate Christ taught: His love for all men; that He died for all: that black, brown, yellow, and white, we must love one another as He has loved us. How much better our pupils understand this when they look around and see boys and girls of every shade of brown treated the same as those born white. The. best way to get information on interracial education is to see such a school in action. OUR CONTRIBUTORS GERALD KELLY and AUGUSTINE KL,~AS are members of the faculty at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. STEPHEN 2. BROWN is a professor at the National University of Ireland, Dublin. 184 Aid:end !:o Reading Augustine Klaas, S.J. 44ATTEND to reading," St. Paul long ago advised Timothy t~ (I Tim. 4:13). By this admonition bishops--and pre-sumably priests, too, since they should be imitating their bishops--are counseled to peruse the Holy Scriptures for spiritual reading. Religious are given to understand the importance of spiritual reading by some of the Fathers of the Church, for example, by St. Jerome, who in his own peculiar way urges Eustochium, a Roman virgin seeking perfection in the nearby convent at Bethlehem, to "let ~leep steal over you holding a book, and let the sacred page receive your nodding head." So necessary for his monks did St. Benedict consider daily reading of the Holy Scriptures and of other spiritual works that he used to send two of the brethren around to check on them strictly during this exercise, for he considered such reading the living spring whence flowed the streams of prayer. This can be said to be the general tradition of religious communities from the earliest times down to the present. While it it true that the cur-rent canon law regarding religious does not mention it explicitly, spiritual reading is certainly included under the heading ~f the "other practices of piety," which superiors must see that their subjects per-form daily (canon 565). As a matter of fact, the constitutions of almost all religious orders and congregations approyed by the Holy See prescribe specifical!y at least a quarter hour of daily spiritual reading or its equivalent, whether in private or in common. Today the laity are becoming increasingly aware of the need of spiritual reading fo~ advancement in prayer and virtuous living, and they are'making use of it more and more. These readers of spiritual books are usually yearly retreatants, active sodalists, and the militants of Catholic Action, but there are many others also. Even non- Catholics are helping in a surprising way to make certain Catholic spiritual books nation-wide best-sellers. I Spiritual reading is not just any sort of reading. It is not casual reading as of a newspaper, novel, or poem. Neither is it "heavy" reading, as of scientific, historical, or philosophical works. It is not 185 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Review [or Reli~lious reading for esthetic pleasure, literary appreciation, historical infor-marion, scientific acumen, or doctrinal erudition: at least, such is not the primary purpose of this kind of reading. What, then, is it? It is the reading of Holy Scripture, spiritual books, lives of Christ, of the Blessed Virgin, and of the saints, not so much for knowledge or for some other similar purpose as for moral improvement, for progress in the spiritual life. Spiritual reading is directed to the will rather than to the intellect; it aims more at the heart than at the head. It seeks principally to stir up the affections, move the will, and produce virtuous action. Father Alvarez de Paz gives the classi-cal definition: "Spiritual reading is perusing the pages of Holy.Scrip-ture or the books of the holy Doctors, not so much"that we may know, but rather that we may advance in spirit, learn the will of God; and do it." Elsewhere be calls it spiritu~al reading when we seek in spiritual books "not only the knowledge but much more the relish ~and love of spiritual things." In some ways the reading of a spiritual book has distinct advan-tages over listening to a sermon or exhortation, having a conference with a religious superior or spiritual guide, or discussing spiritual matters in private conversation with a friend. Verba votar~t . Spoken words easily come and go. The printed word is far more permanent and tends to produce a more lasting effect, since what is printed can be reread, pondered, prayed over, and thoroughly assimi-lated. Without strain or too much distraction the last drop of goodness can be leisurely distilled from it. Books, too, can be fearless informants of faults and defects, while preachers, superiors, and equal~ will sometimes bestitate to speak out, and indeed at times they may not be able to do so. Also, the preacher or counselor may be lacking in the special knowledge required for one's particular case; he may be mediocre, or even downright incompetent, whereas one can always choose one's spiritual reading, adapted to personal, needs, from the Holy Scriptures or the latest encyclical of the Pope, from the spiritual masters, .such as Augustine, Chrysostom, and Basil; across the crowded centuries to Marmion, Meschler, and Leen. M~reover, a spiritual book is a precious thing in itself. The Psalmist says (11:7): "The utterances of the Lord are holy utter-ances, silver tested by fire." Spiritual reading often contains latent power similar to that so impressively noted by the two disciples on the road to Emmaus: "Was not our heart burning within us whilst he spoke to us on the way, whilst he laid open to us the Scriptures?" (Luke 24:32.) And Christ tells us: "The words that I have spoken 186 dul~,1950 ATTEND TO READING to you are spirit and life" (John 6:64). And St. Paul: "For what-soever things were written aforetime were written for our instruc-tion, that through patience and through the comfort of the Scriptures we may have hope" (Rom. 15:4). According to the Holy Books themselves, the Scriptures are truth, fire, a lamp, a hammer, the sword of the spirit, an infinite treasure for men; they convert souls, give wisdom to little ores, enlighten the mind, and .rejoice the heart. What Holy Scripture here says of itself applies also in great part to ill spiritual books worthy of the name. II Undoubtedly spiritual reading is a powerful force for salvation and perfection. How many, like St. Justin, have ascribed to it their conversion to the true religion? St. Eugenia was converted by reading the Epistles of St. Paul; St. Domna by reading the Acts of the Apostles. St. Augustine attributed his moral conversion to spiritual reading. Already convinced intellectually of the true faith, he was still struggling with his unruly passions and perverse will, trying to break with his sinful past, when one day he heard the voice of a child sing-songing in a nearby house: "Tolle, lege," "Tolle, lege," "Take up and read." He recalled that the great St. Antony had been converted to a life of perfection by the chance hearing of the Gospel text: "Go, sell what thou hast, and give to the poor; and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me." So Augustine eagerly took up the New Testament, opened it at random, and read from St. Paul's.epistle to the Romans (13:13-14): "Not in revelry and drunkenness, not in debauchery and wantonness, not in strife and jealousy: But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and as for the flesh, take no thought for its lusts." These words sent streams of light into his mind, warmth to his affections, and strength into his will. Then and there he broke with his sinful past forever. Cen-turies later Ignatius Loyola likewise found in spiritual reading a powerful stimulus to a better life. While recuperating from battle wounds at his ancestral castle he asked for some light reading, some romantic tales, to speed the tedious hours. None could be found ar the moment, so he had to content himself with reading the life of Christ and some saints' biographies. This re.ading, begun with reluc-tance, together with God's grace, initiated a revolutionary change in his whole !ife and started him on the road to sanctity. Augustine and Ignatius are not isolated instances. Countless men and women, of all states of life, have had the course of their moral and spiritual 187 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Review for Religious life changed for the better by reading the Scriptures and other spir-itual books. ¯ Hence it is not surprising that ascetical masters have been lavish in pointing out in detail the various effects produced by earnest spir-itual reading. Here are some of. the. things they say. It shows us our faults as in a mirror, warns of tempt.ations and helps to overcome them, gradually purifies the,,soul from: sin,, and, makes,,the.,,sense of sin ever more and more delicate. It is also a source of nourishment for the soul, since it feeds the soul with salutary truths, which hre its solid and substantial food, and thus plants wisdom. It disposes us for meditation, then enkindles and feeds the fire of prayer and con-templation; indeed, it is truly the "oil for the lamp of prayer." Or, to change the figure with St. Basil: prayers are the sinews of the soul, but the sinews of prayer are spiritual reading. Also, if prayer has gone. badly in the morning, reading can make up for it to a great exterit later in the day. It deepens faith, hope, charity, and all the virtues, stimulates to fervor and devotion, arouses the affections, and strengthens the will. St. Ambrose remarks that just as monks in winter make for the fire, so must we throw off the chill of the world by reading which kindles our love for God. Moreover, r~ading urges to emulation. Did not the youthful Teresa of Avila, on reading the vivid accounts of the early martyrs, immediati.'ly run off to martyr-dom, taking h~r little brother along? Fortunately they did not get very far on their way to Africa but were promptly fetched back home! Little by little spiritual r~ading produces deep interior peace, delight in God, contempt for the world and worldly things; it gives us to taste and experience how sweet is the Lord. It also stirs up apostolic zeal and can be very useful for the apostolate, since it indirectly supplies material for sermons, religion classes, spiritual guidance, and conversation. On the negative side, it prevents wasting precious time on books, magazines, and newspapers of little or no value to religious. In a word, it helps greatly toward making religious spiritually mature. No wonder, then, that so many saintly persons of the past were devoted to spiritual reading. Did not Our Lord Himself read from the Holy Scriptures in the synagogue? St. Augustine says that Our Lady was reading the prophecies of Isaias concerning the future Mes-sias when the angel appeared to her to announce that she was to be the mother of the Redeemer. The servant of Queen Candace was reading Isaias when the Holy Spirit sent the apostle Philip to baptize him. It is significant that the office of reader is a minor order in the 188 July, 1950 ATTEND TO READING Church. How the Iectio dit~ina was treasured in the early Church and by the monastic orders down the years! St. Dominic made great progress in holiness by constantly reading the C'onferer~ces of Cassian, and St. Thomas Aquinas by reading and rereading the Fathers of the Desert and the Fathers of the Church. In this way St. Je~:ome finally broke his inordinate attachment to the pagan classical authors. And didn't St. Teresa cure herself of excessive novel-reading in much the same fashion? We can say without fear of contradiction that the saints universally practiced spiritual reading. I merely note tha~: St. Francis de Sales Used to read himself to sleep at night with z spiritual book, usually Scupoli's Spiritual Combat. He was evidently-following St. 3erome's advice. No wonder the spiritual masters chant the .praises of spiritual'_ reading. Thomas ~ Kempis says that a convent or monastery with-out spiritual books is a kitchen without vegetables, a table without: food, a well without water, a river without fish, a bag without: clothing, a garden without flowers, a purse without money, a vine-. yard without grapes, a tower without guards, a house without fur-. niture; and be adds in all simplicity: "From all these evils and'. injuries to the soul may the good Lord 3esus Christ deliver us, and'. may He be wholly in all now and forever. Amen." Speaking of his: monks, St. Hugh of Lincoln asserts that spiritual books were their arms in time of war, their occupation in times of peace, their support in time of trial, and their remedy in time of sickness. Perhaps Plus X is the most eloquent of modern recommenders of spiritual reading. What he says in his L~tter to Catholic Priestg about its apostolic and personal value can be applied also to religious. "Great progress is made by priests who persevere in this habit of reading; they preach Christ with unction; instead of enervating and distracting the minds and hearts of their hearers, they lead them .to better things, lifting up their souls to heavenly desires. For another reason, very profitable to you, beloved sons, St. 3erome's precept holds good: 'Let spiritual reading be ever in your hands.' Who does not know the very great influence exercised on the mind by a friend who advises freely, who counsels, rebukes, encourages and preserves from'error? 'Blessed is be that findeth a true friend' (Ecclus. 25: 12); 'He that hath found him, hath found a 'treasure' (Ecclus. 6: 14). Now spiritual books may be accounted as true and faithful friends. They remind u~ forcibly of the precepts laid down by authority concerning, true discipline, awaken in us the still small voices of Heaven, reprehend all falling away from resolutions, disturb 189 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Reoieu2 for Religious deceitful calm, expose less worthy affections and self-deception, and reveal the many dangers that lie in the path of the unwary. This they do with such uhobtrusive kindness that they prove themselves to be, not only friends, but the very best of friends. They are beside us whenever we please, ever ready to minister to our secret needs; their voice is never harsh, their counsel never biased, their utteraBces never deceitful or fainthearted." Ill Spiritual reading can be made in private or in common. It is done in common when one person reads and the others listen. Although this way of reading is practised and even prescribed by many religious communities and has certain obvious advantages, yet reading in common is by no means theideal. It is much less effective in procuring the principal purpose of this exercise, namely, virtuous will-action, chiefly because the personal element of the individual religious is not sufficiently taken into consideration. After all, each religious has his own personality, his own spiritual problems, needs. and so forth. What is pertinent for one may not be for another, and at the moment may even be harmful. Spiritual reading in common seems to be a carry-over from the days when books were scarce and perhaps illiteracy not unknown among religious. At any rate, it cannot compare with private spiritual reading, which is being adopted more and more by religious communities, certainly an adaptive move in the right .direction. However, if it must be done in common, the reader should be a capable one, who with suitable preparation tries to read slowly, distinct.Iy, and reflectively. Even where reading in com-mon is practised by rule, other free periods of the day can be profit-ably utilized for private spiritual reading, if only for a half or quar-ter hour. Spiritual reading in private should be done daily, if possible, and at a fixed time, when one is free from duties, and the surroundings are at least relatively quiet. Some find the chapel an excellent place for private spiritual readir~z. The reading should be preceded by a moment ot recollection and a short prayer or aspiration asking for light and grace to benefit by it. The aim should be to read little rather than much--multum rather than malta--and this should be done slowly, leisurely, so that the matter has a chance to sink into the soul like a gentle rain. The reading must be attentive, reflective, ruminative. A wise old laybrother, on the way to spiritual reading, used to say: "Let us chew the cud; unless a sheep chews the cud, it 190 Jul~,1950 ATTEND TO READING will never grow fat." Hence, a pause from time to time, a pause to think, to pray, to meditate, to listen, for St. Augustine says, "When you pray, you speak to God; when you read, God speaks to you." Should we not listen to Him? An old spiritual writer counsels doing what chickens do when they drink water: they take a sip and then look up to. heaven, and keep repeating the process. When we come to something that strikes us, that stirs the affec-tions, we must stay there, read it over and over again, savor it, per-meate it with prayer and aspirations, even make a note of it for future reference. In this way we shall be like the prophet Ezechiel who was told to eat a book, not to swallow it whole; and then like him we ~oo shall find the book "sweet as honey" in the mouth (Ezech. 3:1-3). Such reading will produce fruit, thirty, sixty, and a hundred-fold, provided we understand, absorb, penetrate, realize, and apply to ourselves what we read. It will make us put on Christ, put on Our Blessed Lady, put on Paul, put. on David, put on all the saints and holy ones of God. Ascetical writers say: Read, not with a view to finding fault, but with a deep spirit of faith. It is so easy to be hypercritical and unfair, like spiders distilling venom where bees sip only sweet nec-tar. Read with humility. That is what h Kempis says: "If you wish to make progress, read humbly." Do not be frightened by the style, especially of the old masters; it is something quite secondary, if not unimportant, for our purpose. Persevere, too, and do not flit superficially from book to book. A sick man will never be cured if be merely browses about among the medicine bottles. IV What to read? We are not concerned here with the reading of spiritual books taken in an improper or analogous sense, though undoubtedly it has great advantage for the interior life.' Such, for example, is reading the book of nature. The writer recalls once travelling with a Cistercian abbot on a train going through the Swiss Alps. The mere sight of those snow-covered peaks bathed in sun-light seemed to take the contemplative abbot right out of this world, up to the beauty and grandeur of God. Many of the saints read the book of nature assiduously. Who does not recall Ignatius Loyola contemplating the stars; Francis of Assisi, the birds, animals, Brother Sun, find Sister Moon; Joseph of Cupertino striking the flowers with his cane to 'keep their beauty from sending him into an ecstasy; Teresa of Avila devoutly pondering the waters of fountains, brooks, 191 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Review [or Religious and streams; Francesca Cabrini gazing prayerfully on the wide expanse of the ocean? Perhaps religious do not do enough of this sort of reading; perhaps religious, especially nuns, are indoors too much. There is another type of this so-called reading: it is reading the book of the crucifix. Saints, like Thomas Aquinas and Bona-venture, found much wisdom in it. Philip Beniti (Breviary, Aug. 23) called the crucifix outright "my book." Neither are we so much interested in this article in spiritual reading taken in a proper but wide sense of the term. By this is meant perusing theological, philosophical, historical books, or reli-gious novels, plays, and poems, for spiritual reading. No doubt Franz Werfel's The Song o[ Bernadette or-Francis Tbompson's poems can readily be converted into spiritual reading, and surely this ought to be done at least occasionally as a relief and diversion from regular spirittial reading. By applying the method of reading sketched above, almost any book, even a grammar or scienc~ book, can become spiritual reading of sorts, but this is not spiritual reading in.the strict and ordinary sense, nor should it take the place of the daily reading prescribed by rule. A good norm is this: for the reading prescribed by rule, particularly if it is done in common, what is ordinarily meant by a spiritual book should be used, except on rare occasions. But for any extra time devoted to this exercise, over and above what is prescribed, one can be much freer in one's choice of books. (I might suggest, by way of digression, that in making this spir-itual reading in the wide sense, religious might keep in mind what Coleridge says of readers in general. He distinguishes four classes. "The first class of readers may be compared to an hour-glass, their reading being as the sand; it runs in and runs out, and leaves not a vestige behind. A second class resembles a sponge, which imbibe~ everything, and returns it in nearly the same state, only a little dirtier. A third class is like a jelly-bag, which allows all that is pure to pass away, arid retains only the refuse and dregs. The fourth class may be compared to the miner of Golconda, who, casting .aside all that is worthless, preserves only the pure gems." If we adopt the method of reading suggested above, surely we shall be mine-workers of Golconda, gathering gems and nuggets of spiritual wisdom to trad~ for heavenly riches. And at the end of each day's .treasure-harvest, should we not give thanks to God for the graces received while reading?) First on the list of spiritual reading books in the strict, sense is the 192 ATTEND TO READING Bible, the spiritual book par excellet~ce. St. Paul writes: "Every-thing in the Scriptures hasbeen divinely inspired, and has its uses: to instruct us, to expose our errors, to correct our faults, to educate us in holy living" (II Tim. 3:16). Do we appreciate the Old Tes-tament sufficiently, and do we read it? Of course, for the beginner a selection of Old Testament Books is advisable. Wisdom, Proverbs, Ecclesiasticus, Ecclesiastes, Tobias, ,lob, Ruth, Esther, Isaias, Psalms --these books contain a rich mine of gpiritual treasure. Gradually one can take on the other books also. A good point as we read is to link up the Old and New Testaments, to note, for example, the shadows and figures of the Old .Testament and their fulfillment and verification in the New. Religious are much better acquainted with the New Testament, especially the four Gospels, which must be gone over and over again to be really assimilated and loved. But have we read the Acts of the Apostles? Or the magfiificent letters of St. Paul?. Or the minor letters of the New Testament? Monsignor Ronald Knox's translation of the Holy Scriptures, whatever its deficiencies from the scholarly angle, has this great advantage that it is highly intelligible for the average reader. We recommend it, particularly for the books of the Old Testament and for the Epistles of St. Paul. An encouragement to read the Holy Scriptures for spiritual reading is the three hundred days' indulgence attached by Pope Leo XIII to at least a quarter hour of such reading. And Pope Benedict XV admonishes that "none can fail to see what profit and sweet tranquility must result in well-disposed souls from such devout reading of the Bible. Whoever comes to it in piety, faith, and humility, and with a determination to make progrez in it, will assuredly find therein and will eat the 'bread that comes down from heaven' (,lohn 6:50) . Our one desire for all the Church's children is that, being saturated with the Bible, they may arrive at the all-surpassing knowledge of desus Christ." (Encyclical Spiritus Paraclitus.) . The Apostolic Fathers are certain ecclesiastical writers of the end of the first century and the first half of the second. Although they are not divinely inspired as are the writers of Holy Scripture, they nevertheless portray vividly the mind and spirit of the early Chris-tians. Perhaps the best known among them are Clement, Ignatius, and Polycarp. Who has not been stirred by the fervent letters of Bishop Ignatius of Antioch on his way to Rome .and martyrdom? To the Romhn Christians, who may try to prevent him from dying for Christ, he writes to dissuade them from such action: "God's wheat 193 AUGUSTINE K~AA$ Reuiew [or Religious I am, and by the teeth of wild beasts I am to be ground that I may prove Christ's pure bread." Bishop Polycarp, about to be mar-tyred, replies to the proconsuI trying to make him apostatize: "For six and eighty years I have been serving Him, and He has done no wrong to me; how, then, dare I blaspheme my King.who has saved me!" Who has not thrilled to the heroic courage of these words? Another contemporary source of inspiring spiritual reading is the accounts of the early martyrs, such as Tarcisius, Cecilia, Perpetua and Felicity. And then there are the Fathers of the Church: Cyprian, Ambrose, Jerome, Augustine, Gregory, Athanasius, Basil, Chrysostom, and many others. Their works on martyrdom, virginity, prayer, the ascetical life, the priestly state, make excellent spiritual reading,' reading that has nourished the prayer of .contemplatives down the ages. Also the Fathers of the Desert, such as Antony the Hermit, and the early monastic founders, as Pachomius and Benedict, furnish reading material for advancement in the spiritual life. Pope Pius XII on several occasions has encouraged the reading of these early writers; especially of the first centuries. Since our troub-lous times are much like those of the first Christians, he points out that we need the virtues they especially" exemplified, and he calls attention to four principal ones: 1) an unshakeable confidence in victory, based on profound faith; 2) a serene and unlimited readi-ness for sacrifice and suffering: 3) Eucharistic fervor and recollection arising from the deep conviction of the social efficacy of Eucharistic thought on all forms of social life; 4) a striving after an ever closer and more enduring unity of spirit and of hierarchy. At present there are two series of English translations of these early writings being published: one by The Newman Press, West-minster, Maryland, the other by Cima Publishing Co., New York. Librarians of religious communities should choose from these collec-tions those volumes more suitable for spiritual reading. Com!ng down the centuries, what a cavalcade of spiritual masters passes in review! Bernard, Aquinas, Catherine of Siena, Bonaven-ture, ~i Kempis, Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Rodriguez, Francis de Sales, Lallemant, Alphonsus Liguori, Vincent de Paul, Paul of the Cross, and many more. Among the more recent writers we have Lehodey, Goodier, Faber, Newman, Hedley, Th~r~se of Lisieux, Meschler, Chautard, Marmion, and Leen, not to mention the living. Some years ago REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS printed a list of some hundred authors and their works, which may serve as a basis 194 ATTEND TO READING for a re~ding program of the spiritual masters. (Cf. I, 105; II, 117.) Another rich source of spiritual reading is the life of Christ, of Our Blessed Lady, and of St. ,Joseph. These are timeless books, to be read and reread. Then there are the numerous biographies of the saints, especially of those whom the Church has singled out to be the official patrons of various Catholic works, and of the Blessed, and of other holy persons, particularly of the founders of religious com-munities, so instructive, inspiring, and enticing to imitation. In the last twenty or thirty years hagiography has made real progress towards taking the saints from their fragile pious pedestals and, by putting.their feet on the ground, making them attractively real. | V Of course, amid such a wealth of reading material, one must wisely choose. Here are a few suggestions for religious that must not be followed too rigidly but always adapted to special circumstances: Choose those books that will give you the spirit of your own religious order oi congregation, whether active, contemplative, or mixed. These should be preferred tb all others, especially in the early years of the religious life, and they should be reread often. If your community has few or none, then read the books of an order or congregation which has. your identical rule, or has for its purpose one similar to your own. Other books, depicting and implementing other ways of religious life or other states of life than yours, can be read gradually as the years go on. Choose books suitable to your present position in your religious community. The reading of novices is not going to be the same. as that of older religious. Young religious should be directed in their reading by some one experienced in this matter. However, certain authors are recommended by the Holy See to all young religious: St. Bernard, St. Bonaventure, and Father Alphonsus Rodriguez. The latter's Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues (3 vols. Loyola Press, Chicago) has the added advantage of furnishing a systematic general survey of almost the whole ascetical field--a valuable help at the beginning of one's religious life. Choose books adapted to the spiritual needs of the soul at the moment. This reading will vary according as one is ill, or in con-solation, or in desolation, or in temptation, or in great trials, or has been appointed superior, or removed from some cherished office or employment, and so forth. It will vary, too, according as one has made great or little progr.e.ss in the spiritual life. 195 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Make it a point to read at least one book in harmony with the liturgical year, for instance, something on the Passion during Lent. I~ is good occasionally to read a general survey of the whole of the spiritual life, such as that found in Tanquerey, Garrigou- Lagr~nge, Saudreau, or Parente. A more o~ less systematic reading of the older authors, especially the spiritual classics, should be done by mature religious, while at the same time not neglecting the better books among the moderns. Here a list of books, graded in the order of importance, is a big help. Many modern spiritual books are superficial and ephemeral, and can readily be passed over in favor of the spiritual masters. Mystical books should be read rarely by the young and then only under direction. Older religious of balanced judgment may read such books with profit, especially those of St. Teresa of Avila. With regard to private revelations and mystical phenomena not yet having received the approval that goes with the person's canonization, on~ should always maintain a prudent reserve. This is the Church's own attitude in these delicate matters. An inordinate attachment to ~eading about revelations and mystical phenomena is a sign of' spir-itual immaturity and can be harmful to one's spiritual life. 'Finally, religious should read regularly one or several magazines devoted to the spiritual and religious life, such as Cross and Crown, Life of the Spirit, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Sponsa Regis, or others in foreign languages. These, besides articles suitable for spiritual reading, furnish careful information on spiritual books and pam-phlets, old and new. To conclude with a common objection: "I am too busy; I have no time for extra spiritual reading." Let St. Robert Bellarmine answer it. After asserting that there is always a margin of time left over in the daily schedule tha~ can "be spent on meditation or pious reading, with great fruit for one's soul," the holy Doctor goes on to say: "Seneca in one of his letters takes to task those who claim that time is all too short;and be proves that their complaint is unfounded, because they waste a great deal of time. If only they would use it, they should have plenty of time . Many are short of time because, not content with honest recreation, they squander their existence in dawdling, gadding about, gossiping, visiting, reading about trifles, and doing nothing useful." Perhaps St. Robert has something there! Book/?ev ews ST. TERESA OF JESUS. By Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, O.C.D. Translated from the Italian by a Benedictine of Stanbrook Abbey. Pp. xll-~ 123. The Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland, 1949. $2.00 In this book Fathe~ Gabriel does for St. Teresa what he did some time ago for St. John of the Cross (see this REVIEW, VI, p. 377) ; that is, in a series of five conferences he introduces us to the works and doctrine of the celebrated mystic whom he regards as the great founder of what he is pleased to call "the Teresian school." He makes an effort to present the principal points of that doctrine in an ordered and systematic synthesis, and to "determine what is her considered opinion on the more central problems of spirituality" (p. xi). The supremely important aim in the spiritual life is not contem- t plation, but cbarRy, and the perfection of it. .Being most magnani-mous herself and having been treated most liberally by God, St. Teresa conceives this perfection to be love brought to the highest possible peak of generosity. Nothing, absolutely nothing, is to be refused to the divine Lover. Whatever He may ask, in deed or sacri-fice or suffering, the soul is glad to render. In particular it is eager to do all that it can in the apostolic spirit and for the salvation of souls. This lofty perfection is possible to all Christians who have sufficient good will. It is the same as that most excellent form of union with God, that "true union" of conformity of will in love, which above all other forms Teresa herself always desired and sought. After considering the goal, perfect love, it was only natural that a Carmelite and especially a sublime mystic like St. Teresa should turn to "the contemplative ideal." Besides infused contemplation, "We must conclude that, evidently, Teresa also is aware of the exist-ence of an active contemplation," described in The Interior Castle, "Mansion VI," 7. "Such a contemplation will habitually be the prayer even of a soul already mystical, at such times as it is not favored by God with more special divine enlightening. In the illu-minative way the active, or acquired, contemplation will easily alter-nate with the infused. The matter is thus understood by the whole Teresian school" (p. 118). Her understanding of mystical contemplation is narrower and richer than that of some modern authors: it "is a state of prayer 197 BOOK REVIEWS Reoiew for Religious wherein the soul is experimentally aware of God's action within it" (p. 24). "Even in the lower degrees of infused contemplation the divine action within renders itself in some way perceptible to the consciousness; the soul feels moved, drawn, and from seeing how that motion which it suffers causes it to occupy itself wholly in lovingly gazing upon God, it judges: 'God is acting in me. I am very close to God' " (p. 82). In St. Teresa's outlook the contemplative ideal is of course most important. It is a great "short cut" to the higher degrees of charity and virtue. One ardently in love with God experiences a certain need of the peculiar intimacy and inspiration which contemplation brings. Hence it is in every way most desirable. However, it is not necessary, even for perfect holiness. "We cannot conclude that all generous souls must attai'n to such forms of contemplation ['prayer of quiet,' 'sleep of the powers,' 'union'], much less that they can be introduced into that way of contemplation which, through the series of infused forms of prayer, leads the soul to the spiritual marriage as it is described by St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross . So we may speak of a way that leads to holiness, even perfect holiness, without passing through mystical prayers, strictly speaking" (pp. 36, 37). "Synthesizing these teachings of its great Mistress, the Teresian School has distinguished a two-fold way of perfection: the common way and the mystical way, that is the way of contemplation. The common way knows nothing of infused forms of prayer of th~ characteristic type described by St. Teresa" (p. 43). As a matter of fact, God is most liberal with His gifts and is wont to grant infused prayer to those who exert themselves suffi-ciently. "If we are to interpret her thought faithfully, we must say that in the highest way of sanctity, followed by thoroughly generous souls, mystical prayer, although not ~ecessary, is yet ordinary. Such, also, is the traditional position taken up by the Teresian mystical school, formulated by the Teresian Congress of Madrid" (p. 37). After dealing with perfection and contemplation in the first two conferences, Father Gabriel devotes the remaining three to the preparation that St. Teresa advises for contemplation, to an account of the "Mansions" of The lnterior Castle, and finally to the place of the sacred humanity of Jesus in the spiritual system of Teresa of Jesus. Father Gabriel's book is a clear, brief, and highly inspiring intro-duction to the doctrine of St. Teresa. Moreover, it presents the understanding and interpretation of it which the leading authority 198 duly, 1950 BOOK REVIEWS now in Carmelite spirituality considers to be the true and just idea of it. Hence this work is a very valuable addition to our spiritual literature.--(3. AUGUSTINE ELLARD, S.J. STORM OF GLORY. By John Beevers. Pp. viii -f- 23 I. Sheed and Ward, New York, 19S0. $3.00. This short life of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux is written with a two-fold purpose: (1) to reveal St. Th~r~se as a person truly measuring up to the heroic love of God and the neighbor required of a saint, and a person altogether unlike the child-like and sweetly sentimental saint she is made to be in many books about her; and (2) to point out that St. Wh~r~se has a very special relation to our modern times. Read in connection with the Autobiography of St. Th~rbse, Storm of Glory/will give one a very complete picture of the saint. It fills in many details of her family life in early years as well as her life as a Carmelite, all of which help very much to understand St. Th~rbse, and in addition it tells a brief running story of her life enlivened with concrete incidents and eye-witness stories which show Th~r~se to have been truly heroic in a grown-up way in her love and service of God. The second aim of the book is developed in Part II. The author calls St. Th~r~se of Lisieux th~ greatest saint of modern times, prin-cipally because she has made sanctity seem not only attractive but truly possible to thi many, many little people of the world, who but for her would have thought of sanctity as too remote and mysterious andimpractical for such as they. This is true because her own life was so very ordinary--ordinary works, no extraordinary penances, and for the most part no extraordinary spiritual experiences, and also because of the Little Way of Spiritual Childhood which she teaches as a sure way to become a saint. Further, to the author, Th~r~se, with her conviction of her own littleness and her love of God in every detail of her life, stands in direct opposition to the modern worldly spirit with its pride in purely natural accomplishments and its bitter hatred as well of fellowmen ~s of God. Over the years I have found each fresh acquaintance with St. Thir~se of Lisieux to be spiritually inspiring. And that is what Storm of Glory offers to its readers--a good measure of spiritual inspiration.--A. REID, S.J. PURGATORY. By Martin A. dugle, A.A. Translated by Malachy G, Car-roll. Pp. 203. The Newman Press, Wesfmlnster, Maryland, 1949. $3.25. There are very few worthwhile books on Purgatory. This is one 199 Book REVIEWS Reuiew for Religious of them, one of the best. Unlike most, it is written primarily from the viewpoint of the living and stresses throughout the consoling aspect of Purgatory. In it, Father Martin 3ugie, a theologian of high repute, presents and explains the Catholic doctrine in simple, clear language, but with theological exactitude and above all with reserve, especially on the delicate subject of private revelations. In fact, his balanced evaluation and prudent use of private revelations are some of the outstanding features of the book. The location of Purgatory, its inhabitants, its kinds of punishment, its time-length, these and many other topics, some not found in other books, come up for care-ful treatment. The author devotes considerable space ~o the w.ays in which we can help these souls, by Masses, indulgences, prayers, and almsgiving. Finally, he tells bow to avoid Purgatory altogether, or at least shorten one's stay there, by using the multitudinous efficacious means placed by the Church at the disposal of Catholics. He might have developed more at length the theologically well-founded though not certain doctrine of the immediate entry into heJaven of those who receive the sacrament of extreme unction betimes a;ad with the proper disposi-tions. The translator has done a fair job, but he should have done more car,eful proof-reading, and he might have added a helpful index. We recommend the book highly to all and trust that it will match in English the seven editions it has already seen in French. It is a rare book, combining two things: exact information and quiet inspiration. --A. KLAAS, S.J. PSYCHIATRY AND ASCETICISM. By Felix D. Duffey, C.S.C. Pp. 132. B. Herder Book Co., S÷. Louis, Missouri. $2.00. This slender volume points out defects in the exercise of the sci-ence of psychiatry as it is practiced today and as it is popularly preached. From a consideration of some of the defects of the science, the author goes on to a treatment of certain ascetical principles and practices which are basic to a complete understanding of difficulties in man's mental life, principles and practices frequently overlooked or denied in psychiatric treatment. Perhaps the finest chapters in the book are the Psychology of Mental Prayer and the Psychology of Mortification. The present reviewer has a practical problem with this volume, however. Though the author repeats several times that he has no quarrel with psychiatry which stays within the confines of its sub- 200 duly,.1950 BOOK NOTICES ject matter, the overall tendency of the book seems to condemn the science as a whole. A Catholic psychiatrist would find little encour-agement in reading Psgcbiatry and Asceticism. There are many reputable Catholic psychia~;rists who are doing splendid work in their chosen field, and it is fervently hoped that their number will increase. It is true that Freud held a philoso.pby not consonant with our rule of faith, but a distinction must be made between the philo-sophy of the founder and the therapeutic processes and clinical obser-vations and conclusions of the science. By stressing some of the ideas this volume does, the ordinary layman would put little faith in psychiatry.mJ. J. CAMPBELL, S.J. [NOTE: The preceding reviews of Purgatory and of Psychiatry and Asceticism are published through the courtesy of Catholic Review Service, St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas.] BOOK NOTICES GOSPEL GE,MS, by Canon Paul Marc, contains twenty-four meditations on as many events recorded in the Gospels. The .book is recommended to anyone seeking an aid in making familiar contem-plations or meditations on the Gospel scenes. The prayerful perusal of its simple and inspiring treatment of these scenes will help the reader to acquire a deeper knowledge of Christ and to achieve a more intimate union with Him. (Frederick Pustet Co., New York and Cincinnati, 1950. Pp. 226. $3.00.) AN INTRODUCTION TO HOLINESS, by Henri Petitot, O.P., is a clear, well-balanced statement of the essentials for holiness. The book has three main parts (The Ascetic Life; The Active Life; and The Unitive Life) and a conclusion on The Mystical Body. In these various sections the author insists on the necessity of self-denial, humility, prayer, zeal, knowledge of Christian doctrine, union with God and neighbor through charity[ There is a good chapter on the value of Christian art for stimulating devotion; and the theme that the holiness of one member has profound effects on the Mystical Body is excellently developed. The treatise is intended for the fer-vent laity and for religious. Even among these, the author says, comparatively few attain to a superior state of holiness. But all would profit by the thoughtful reading of this book. Irritating minor tones are the frequent references to things French and the author's apparently unnecessary insistence on his "Thomistic" posi-tion. The translation from the French was made by Malachy Ger- 201 BOOK NOTICES Reuie~u for Reliqious ard Carroll. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1950. Pp. vii ÷ 176. $2.50.) COME CREATOR SPIRIT, by Rev. A. Biskupek, S.V.D., is a series of considerations centering chiefly around those two magnificent hymns to the Holy Ghost, Veni Creator Spiritus and Veni. Sancte Spiritus. Other chapters deal with the role of the Holy Ghost in the sacraments. The book concludes with comments on the Mass of the Holy Ghost and miscellaneous reflections. The treatment is devotional, simple, full of unction, and directed to the heart. This book might best do service to religious as a well-spring for their meditations~to increase their appreciation of and devotion to the forgotten Paraclete. (Techny, Ill.: Mission Press, 1950. Pp. $3.00.) TAKE THIS SCAPULAR contains the conferences given at the Carmelite Third Order's Second National Conference held in the spring of 1949. In the thirty-four chapters, each by a Carmelite Tertiary or a Tertiary Director, is told the story of Our Lady's Scapular, its origin and history, its use and efficacy in modern life. This book provides valuable source material for study, meditation, and preaching on the Scapular devotion. (Chicago: Carmelite Third Order Press, 1949. Pp. 270. $2.50.) Thomas Merton's latest book, WHAT ARE THESE WOUNDS?, is an interpretation of the contemplative life and mystical experi-ences of St. Lutgarde, a thirteenth-century Yrappistine. It is a com-panion book to his THE WATERS OF SILOE, and THE SEEDS OF CONTEMPLATION, and gives a concrete application of the principles of the contemplative life discussed in these two former books. Although the author is careful to explain that the miraculous is only accidental to the mystical life, it is to be regretted that much of the book is taken up with relating just such experiences. This biography of St. Lutgarde is, however, interesting and pleasant reading, since it does afford an insight into the innermost life of an outstanding con-templative and a lover of the Sacred Heart. (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1950. Pp. xiv + 191. $2.50.) Among the many celebrated writings by St. Athanasius probably none was more influential, over a wider area and for a longer period, than his perennial "best seller," THE LIFE (~F ST. ANTHONY. Atha-nasius had known and esteemed th~ great monastic pioneer and pro-duced this Lit:e shortly after the death of Anthony. The account 202 dulv, 1950 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS literally set the style for Christian hagiography. And, what is vastly more important, it exerted enormous influence East and West in spreading the idea of that full-time pursui.t of Christian perfection that is now organized into religious life under rule and vow. After the Gospels, this Life is really Book One in monastic and conventual literature. The present edition is Number' 10 in the Ancient Chris-tian Writers series. The translator and editor is Robert T. Meyer. .Religious scholars will be grateful to him not only for the smooth translation but also for the annotations with which he interprets the text. (Westminster,Md.: The Newman Press, 1950. Pp. 154. $2.50.) Very noticeable in recent literature on religious vocations is the striving to be realistic, to show young men and women, by word pictures and photographs, just how the religious life is lived. WHAT MUST I Do? by Sister Mary Paul Reilly, O.S.B., is an example of how this purpose.may be accomplished by word pictures. She takes one girl and her companions through the postulancy, noviceship, first and final professions: and, by means of their varied experiences, she shows the girl reader just what she might expect in the religious life. (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1950. Pp. 96. ¯ $1.60.) THE UNHOLY THREE, by Rev. Henry J. Romanowski, is a very readable treatise on ascetical theology for the laity. The "Unholy Three" are, obviously, the world, the flesh, and the devil. Father R0manowski covers the principal ways in which these enemies attack the soul, as well as the various ways of combatting them. This is his first book. May he publish many more. (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1950. Pp. xiii ÷ 160. $2.75.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part, these notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, St. Louis, Missouri. Human Personalit~l. By H. C. E. Zacharias. Pp. viii q- 360. $4.00. Describes the way India and China "by their own unaided efforts caused human personality to emerge out of its stage of collec-tive anonymity," and how Israel was an instrument in the hands of God "who gave to human personality a supernatural sanction and an eternal value, unattainable by merely human endeavors." ,, 203 dul~,1950 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS The Nazarene. By Eugenio Zolli. Translated from thd orig-inal ItaIian by Cyril VolIert, S.3. Pp. 309. $5.00. A volume of exegesis for "Scripture students and others who are confronted with difficulty of explaining obscure passages in the Gospels." Revival of Paganism. By Gustave Combes. Translated by Rev. Augustine Stock, O.S.B. Pp. v + 360. $4.50. "This survey of recent trends, especially those fostered by government, toward the dechristianization of our civilization, focuses attention in particular on Russia, Germany, and France." The Message of Christ. By Adolf Donders. Translated by Rev. Rudolph Kraus. Pp. xi ÷ 477. $6.00. Includes 204 brief suggested sermons, based mostly on the life of Christ, for Sundays and principal feasts of the liturgical year. Should prove useful espe-cially to busy parish priests. THE LITURGICAL PRESS, Collegeville, Minnesota. Tbeoloqg of the Old Testament. By Dr. Paul Heinisch. Eng-lish edition by Rev. William Heidt. Pp. 386. $5.00. Although of special interest to teachers of religion and theology, this book will provide the less specialized reader also with a deeper understanding and fuller apppreciation of Old Testament teaching on the nature and attributes of God, the spirit world, creation, the nature of man, human acts, the Messiah. The treatment is both scholarly and com-prehensive and copiously documented with hundreds of Scriptural references. LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO., 55 Fifth Avenue, New York. St. Anne and the Gouty Rector and Other Plays. By Henri Gh~on ~ Henri Brochet. Pp. xx + 190. $2.50. Contains seven plays and useful production notes for each play. The plays included are: St. Anne and the Gouty Rector, The Sausage-Maker's Interl~de, Parade at Devil's Bridge by Henri Gh~on; Christmas at the Cross-roads, The Gardener Who Was Afraid of Death, The Man Who Died Because He Wore Gloves, St. Felix and His Potatoes by Henri Brocbet. NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Facing Life, Meditations for Young Men. By Raoul Plus, S.J. Pp. xii + 12I. $1.50. Facing Life, Meditations for Young Women. By Raoul Plus, S.J. Pp. xiv + 158. $1.50. Two small books, reprints. Recommended highly for priests 204 July, 1950 FOR YOUR INFORMATION and religious who want to help young men and women meditate. The Sunday Introits and Graduals. By Reir. E. C. Messenger. Pp. 175. $2.75. The Sunday Collects. Pp. 123. $2.75. The Sunday Epistles. Pp. 182. $2.75. -.-The Sunday G'ospels. Pp. 171. $2.75. These four volumes contain simple explanations of the various parts of the Mass. Helpful for religious who .wish to meditate on these parts of the Mass; for priests who wish to explain the Mass; and for the laity who want a deeper understanding of parts of the Mass. Lioing with God. By Raoul Plus, S.J. Pp. xvi -1- 93. $1.50. Another reprint. Seeks to arouse in the reader a more fruitful realiza-tion of the tremendous significance of union with God through sanc-tifying grace. By Rev. E. C. Messenger. By Rev. E. C. Messenger. By Rev. E. C. Messenger. JOSEPH F. WAGNER, INC., 53 Park Place, New York. In Praise of Our.Lady. By Martin Dempsey. Pp. vi + 225. $2.75. A book of sermons concerning the principal feasts of Our Lady, including a special series for a Novena to Our Lady of Fatima. For Your nrrorma on Passlonist Champion Champion of Church and Pope is an attractive pamphlet sketch of St. Vincent Strambi, the recently canonized Passionist bishop. In his preface to the pamphlet Bishop James H. Griffiths says that "Vincent Strambi is a modern symbol of victory of the suffering Christ and His suffering Church over the force and the fear of the tyrannical state." In the text itself Father Aloysius McDon-ough, C.P., brings out not only the remarkable story of St. Vincent's early life (he was rector of a seminary before being ordained a priest) and of his great courage in the face of Napoleon's tyranny, but also the essential details of Passionist life. The publisher is the Sign Press, Union City, New Jersey. Father McDonough, the author, 205 FOR YOUR INFORMATION. conducts the "Sign-Post" in the Passionis~ magazine, The Sign, and is the author of God's Own Method, a book which offers a "design for living . . . drawn from the lessons taught by the crucified Re-deemer." (See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VII, 50-51.) Company o{ Mary A Slave of Jesus in Mary is a pamphlet life of Mother Mary Potter, Foundress of The Little Company of Mary, familiarly known as the "Blue Nuns." The institute began in the latter part of the last century; the foundress died in Rome in 1913; yet the Little Company's hospitals are now circling the globe. The author of this pamphlet is Father Marius McAuliffe, O.F.M. Our readers may obtain it for the asking by writing to The Little Company of Mary Hospital, 95th St. and California Ave., Evergreen Park 42, Ill. Servanfs of Mary Another nursing institute of recent origin is The Sisters, Servants of Mary, a society of trained nurses who care for the sick and infirm in their own homes. It too is fast extending its services to the whole world. Its provincial house for the United States is located at Kan-sas City, Kansas. The foundress, Mother Soledad Torres Acosta, was born in Madrid, Spain, in 1826, and died in the same city 1887. She was beatified on February 5, of this present Holy Year. L~ftle Off;¢e M~I Dail~t Otlice is a 6-p~ge folder on The Little Office of the Blessed Virgin. It contains a brief commentary on the Office and reflections on the psalms and canticles. The author is Ft. Jerome, O.F.M. He found in giving retreats to religious that they do not get lectures on the Little OtSce as often as they would wish; hence, he gave some talks and later abbreviated them into this folder. Copies may be ordered, or sample copies obtained, from Assisi Press, St. Francis, Broad Lane, Cork, Ireland. Price for U.S.A. and Canada: $3.00 for 100; $8.00 for 300; $12.00 for 500. I/arla The Poor Clare Nuns have a new monastery situated on a hill-side overlooking the Santa Clara Valley. The address is: The Immaculate Heart Monastery, Route 2, Box 873, Los Altos, California. "The Boy Saviour, My Model for Life," is the title of a new (Continued on page 224) 206 ( ues {ons and Answers nl8m We have heard, or read somewhere, that the water cruet used at Mass should always be filled to the brim? Is that correct; and, if so, why should this be so? At the Offertory the celebrant is supposed to mix a very slight quantity of .water with the wine in the chalice. The quantity should be relatively slight: that is, slight with reference to the amount of wine that he takes. Yet, even priests who use a comparatively large quantity of wine usually try to limit themselves to only a few drops of water. The cruet should be filled in such a way that the priest can accomplish this without spilling the water. Generally speaking, it is very difficult for the priest to take only a few drops if only the bottom part of the cruet is filled, for in this case the water tends to gush out. For this reason, the stoppers so often used in water cruets are a nuisance. On the other hand, when cruets are filled right to the brim, it is often difficult to pour the water without spilling it. The safest way to fill the water cruet, therefore, seems to be almost to the brim. We might add, however, that cruets differ--and so do priests. Sacristans would do well to ask the priest how he wants the cruets filled. And if there is no opportunity to do this, the sacristan might experiment a bit until he (or she) knows just how much to fill the cruet to allow for the pouring of only a few drops without spilling or gushing. In some places Erlenmeyer flasks are used as cruets because it is so easy to control the flow of liquid from them. ml9m What is meant by a "perplexed" conscience? Is it the same thing as scrupulosity? By a "perplexed" conscience theologians mean a state of mind in which a person thinks he would commit a sin no matter what he does. For instance, suppose a mother thinks she would sin by going to Mass and neglecting a sick child, and would also sin by staying with the child and omitting Mass. She has to do one thing or the other--go to Mass or not go to Mass. Hence, according to her "conscience" she would sin no matter what she would do. Another example is suggested by this problem in Moral Guidance (p. 309), by Edwin F. Healy, S.J.: "What should a surgeon do in an 207 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS emergency case where in his opinion he will probably be doing wrong if he operates and probably be doing wrong if he does not operate? He must do one or the other at once." The "perplexed" conscience does not necessarily indicate scrupu-losity. Even one who normally has no difficulty making decisions for himself might occasionally face a situation so puzzling ~that it seems to involve sin no matter what he does. However, a scrupulous person is certainly more apt to experience this difficulty than are those who are not scrupulous. Since we have mentioned the "perplexed" conscience, it may be well to add here the correct principles of conduct in such an emergency. Theologians give three rules to cover the various possi-bilities : 1) Get advice, if this is possible, and thus do away with the perplexity. --For instance, the mother mentioned above might ask the priest or some prudent friend what she should do. 2) If advice or some similar help is unavailable, do what seems to be the less evil. --For instan6e, the s.urgeon mentioned in Father He.aly's problem has to act in an emergency and may have no oppor-tunity to consult persons or books. In that case he should try to estimate whether operating or not operating would be the less of the two apparent evils and then act accordingly. 3) If one cannot decide which would be the less evil, he may follow either course of action without sin. ---The reason for this last rule is that a person who judges that he will sin equally by acting and by not acting no longer has the freedom necessary for actually committing a sin. The ability to sin presupposes the ability to choose between two things, one of which is sinful, the other not sinful. 2O Is it true that the Holy See has condemned the practice of cjivincj several small Hosts to one communicant.'/ A decree of Pope Innocent XI condemned the practice of giving several small Hosts to one communicant. The reason for this prohibition was that the practice, as existing at the time of the con-demnation, was based on a spirit of false devotion. When there is no question of fostering a false devotion, a priest may give several Hosts to the same communicant: for example, when there is need of emptying a ciborium. 208 Reporl: I:o Rome I We c:ntinue hcre the publishing of the List oI Questions to be answered in the quinquennial report by pontifical institutes. For full explanation see our dan-uary, 1950, number, page 52. We encourage all to read these questions thought-fully, as they furnish an excellen~ survey of the Church's law concerning religious. The eighty-six questions published in our 3anuary, March, and May numbers contain the first three articles of Chapter I, "The Institute and Its Government." The questions are published exactly as they appear in the official English trans-lation. Questions marked with an asterisk (*) concern only institutes of men; those marked with a cross (t) refer only to institutes of women.--ED.] ARTICLE IV Concernin9 the financ;al 9overnmenf of the Institute § 1. - CONCERNING THE ACQUISITION AND LOSS OF PROPERTY Concerning the acquisition and registration of propert~ 87. a) What if any immovable property or precious movable property was acquired by the Institute, Provinces and houses; what was the value of these acquisitions. b) Was the aforesaid property acquired by gift or other gratui-tous title, or by purchase, and ~n this latter case was it with the funds of the Institute, Province or house, or with borrowed money. 88. Has the Institute, the Province and each house an inventory of its movable property, especially of that which is classed as precious (by reason of workmanship, history or material) (c. 1522 2°) and of its immovable property. 89. When must these invehtories be revised, and are they in fact revised. 90. In cases where works which are not the property of the house, such as clerical or religious residence-halls, hospitals, churches, etc., are entrusted to the religious houses, are these properties kept clearly distinct from those which belong to the religious house itself. 91. By what method or in~ whose name before the civil law is the religious property registered; and can this registration be regarded as safe in civil law. 92. What forms of registration have been adopted as the more s~cure in various localities. 93. If societies have been established for this purpose, was every-thing done in accordance with the civil law and is everything actually being kept in good order. 94. As regards the aforesaid societies: 209 REPORT TO ROME Review for Religious a) Were all persons to whom the administration or manage-ment of property is entrusted, chosen with due care, after making all the previous investigations which were necessary or useful. b) Were the members of the Institute itself given the preference over outsiders for oflqces of administration, whenever this could pru-dently be done without loss. c) What safeguards were used against dangers arising from abuses of administration. d) Is a constant vigilance conscientiously exercised according to law, through the checking of accounts and through ordinary and other extraordinary and timely inspections of safety deposits and other properties. Concerning expenses 95. Were extraordinary expenses paid from ordinary or extra-ordinary income proper, or on the contrary with borrowed funds. Concerning contributions 96. Did the individual houses and other units subject to the Provinces contribute toward meeting the expenses of the Provinces. 97. Did the Provinces and equivalent units and the houses which are immediately under the Supe.rior General contribute to the com-mon necessities of the Institute. 98. By what authority (Chapter, Council, General or Provincial Superior), on what principles and in what proportion are the contri-butions'to the general and provincial funds determined. 99. Were these contributions paid willingly or more or less under pressure. I00. Are the Provinces and houses allowed to retain whatever is prudently foreseen to be necessary or very appropriate for their own life and growth, in view of the good of souls and the welfare of the Institute. Concerning the alienation and diminution of property 101. What capital property, whether immovable, or stable (i. e. consisting of capital funds) or precious, was alienated, and by what authority, 102. In the alienation of property, were the provisions of law (cc. 534, 1531), especially regarding the previous appraisal by experts, and the norms of the Constitutions, observed. 103. Did the Institute, Provinces and houses consume any stable or founded property or capital funds; for what reasons and by what 210 July, 19~O authority. 104. Are the general, making serious efforts to red 105. What properties o suffered loss; and what wer! REPORT TO ROME rovincial and local Superiors and Bursars over this property. the Institute, Provinces and houses have the reasons. gilance of Superiors and their Councils ~d 'Bursars (c. 516 §§ 2, 3, 4) according Constitutions: ute. 'ovinces and other similar units. muses and works. 111. Does the Superior §3). 112. Do the Councils exercise vigilance in regard also as Bursars (c. 516 § 1 Concerning 113. How many times cils must the Bursars and o their administration. 114. Was a clear and in any case act also as Bursar (c. 516 ~ave their part in the administration and lit, even when the Superiors are acting how do they do this. rhe rendering of accounts a year and to what Superiors and Coun-her Administrators render an account of :omplete rendering of account demanded 21"1 under the direction and vi (cc. 516 § 2, 532 § I), 110. Are there designat to the common law and thl a) For the entire Insti~ b) For the different P: c) For the individual Concernirig debts and obligations 106. a) What debts w~re contracted, and by whom. b) What debts are ac~ua!ly outstanding. 107. In contracting debts and obligations, were the following faithfully observed : a) The provisions of c. 534. b) The precautions mI e.ntioned in c. 536 § 5. c) The norms of the Constitutions regarding permissions, the consent of the Council, etc. | 108. Was the interest ~n debts and obligations faithfully paid, and is diligent care taken t,oward the gradual payment of a debt or the amortization of the capital~ (c. 536 § 5). § 2. - CONCERNING THE[CONSERVATION AND ADMINISTRATION ~F PROPERTY 109. Is the administra~tion of property conducted, not arbi-trarily, but according to the common law and the Constitutions, REPORT TO ROME Reoiet~ for Religious of all and each of the Bursars and Administrators during the five-year period. 115. Were there presented together with the accounts the docu-ments showing the .expenditures and receipts. 116. Was there regularly an inspection and checking of the safe. 117. Are the necessary directions given to the Bursars and Administrators; if so how is this done, and what sanctions are imposed in case of necessity. 118. Have Superiors, Bursars or Administrators, or any other religious, any money or property which they can freely use without giving a regular account of it, even though it belong to the Institute, Province or house. Concerning the intpestment of money and changes of inuestment 119. Did Superiors, Councils and Administrators lawfully, safely and profitably invest (c. 533) the money which was to be invested according to law and the will of benefactors, observing the rules of law and the Constitutions. 120. Did Superiors, Bursars and Administrators make temporary investments of surplus funds which were not required for ordinary expenses, so that they should not lie idle but might draw a reasonable interest. Concerning the consert~ation of property 121. Are money, securities, contracts, precious articles carefully conserved, observing exactly the common norms and the provisions of the Constitutions. 122. On what terms, if ever: a) Were money or precious articles received from outsiders on deposit. b) Or conversely were such deposits made with outsiders by Superiors, Bursars, Administrators or private religious. 123. Do Superiors, Bursars, Administrators conscientiously strive that all the properly of the Institute, Province and house be religiously conserved and providently administered (c. 532 § 1). Concerning foundations, pious causes, etc. 124. What legacies and pious foundations were accepted. 125. In accepting pious foundations and legacies, were the rules of law (c. 1544, ss.) and of the Constitutions observed. 126. Was the money of foundations and pious causes, according to law and with the consent of the local Ordinary when that was 212 July, 19519 REPORT TO ROME required, invested (cc. 533 §§ 1, 2, 1547) and separately and faith-fully administered (cc. 535 § 3, 2°, 1546, 1549). 127. Were the obligations attached to foundations faithfully and conscientiously fulfilled (cc. 1514, 1549 § 2). 128. Did Visitors demand documentary proof of their fulfilment and an account of the administration of the property. Concerning business and trade, etc. 129. Did any religious, Superiors or subjects, personally or through others, engage in illicit business, that is, business not per-mitted to religious, in violation of cc. 142, 592. 130. In cases where for just reasons the permission of the Holy See. was obtained for engaging in business (give the date and Proto-col number), was every semblance, not alone of fraud but also of avarice, diligently avoided. 131. What precautions were taken that religious who are occu-pied in business dealings may not suffer spiritual harm. 132. Whether Superiors and Councils were attentively watchful that, according to c. 1539 § 2, in the administrative exchange of securities payable to bearer, all appearance of commerce or trading be avoided. Concerning actions or affairs which int)oloe tfnancial responsibility 133. How did Superiors exercise vigilance over the actions and dealings of their subjects from which there might arise according to law a financial responsibility on the part of the Institute or of the Province or house (c. 536 § 2) or of the individual religious (c. 536 §3). 134. Did Superiors clearly and effectively, according as the cir-cumstances required, take prompt action to clear the Institute, Prov-ince and house of all responsibility for actions and dealings done by individual religious without observing the norms of the common or particular law. 135. Do Superiors see to it that, in all matters which concern finances, or in those generally which could give occasion to litigation in the canonical or civil courts, everything be done exactly according to law, on the basis of previous written contracts and with the guar-antee of perfectly valid signed agreements, etc. (e, 1529). 136. Have any law suits or losses resulted from failure to observe the prescribed formalities of civil law according to n. 135. 213 REPORT TO ROME Review for Religious 137. !-!ave Superiors and Bursars diligently seen to it that extern workmen and all persons who work for the Institute, Province or house receive at the agreed time a just and fair compensation accord-ing to law (c. 1524), and that the provisions of law regarding the contract of hire and other matters be faithfully observed. 138. What provision is made for the spiritual welfare of those who work in the house, especially if they also reside there. CHAPTER II CONCERNING THE RELIGIOUS AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE AND DISCIPLINE Concerning the diversity of classes ~ The vows of each class 139. What are the different classes, if any, among the members of the Institute; does harmony exist among the different classes and is f~aternaI charity observed among them. 140. Besides the persons who belong to the Institute or Society as members, by religious profession or lawful incorporation, are there others who are dedicated or given to it, or the like, without being members. 141. Is provision made in fairness and charity for the spiritual life of these persons and also for their material security. 142. Are there any legitimately approved,statutes for them. ARTICLE I Concerning ÷he admission, formation and profession or incorporation of members Concerning the postulantsbip in the wide sense (Apostolic Schools) 143. Are there in the Institute any aspirantships or postu.lant-ships in the wide sense: apostolic schools, etc. 144. For how long a time does the instruction and education in these places last. 145. In these apostolic schools and similar houses and in the residence-halls, are the students of tender age habitually kept separate from the older ones. Concerning the postulantship in the canonical or strict sense 146. Are the postulantships pro.perly conducted according to law in the houses of noviceship (c. 540 § 1), or in houses where perfect religious observance exists (c. 540). 147. Was the time assigned by the common law (c. 539) or by 214 Julg, 1950 " REPORT TO ROME the Constitutions for the postulantship abbreviated or prolonged; if so, for how long a time and by what authority. Concerning the admission of aspirants 148. What means are used to arouse and attract vocations. 149. Are there also advertisements inserted in public bulletins and papers. If so, in what bulletins or papers did they appear. 150. Taking into account the different circumstances of various localities, what causes are regarded as having an influence on the increase or diminution of vocations. 151. Wha~t are the obstacles which aspirants most frequendy have to overcome in order to follow their vocation. Concerning documents, testimonials and informations 152. Were the documents required by the common law (c. 544) and by the Constitutions demanded before admission in the case of each aspirant. 153. At least before entrance into the novitiate, were the fol-lowing testimonial letters demanded and obtained: a*) The common testimonial letters which are to be given by the local Ordinaries and are.prescribed for all (c. 544 § 2). b) The special testimonial letters which are to be given under oath by the Rector or Major Superior for those who have been in a Seminary or a residence-hall which is equivalent to an ecclesiastical one, or in a postulantship or novitiate of a religious Institute (c. 544 §3). c) Likewise the testimonial letters which are required in the case of clerics and professed religious (c. 544 §§ 4, 5). 154. Besides the documents and testimonials which are specially prescribed by law or by the Constitutions, were further informa-l~ ions, which it seemed necessary or useful to know in order to judge with certainty of the vocation and fitness of the aspirants, diligently sought (c. 544 § 6). Concerning impediments and admissfon 155. From what impediments or defects, if any, which are imposed by the common or particular law, was a dispensation granted; how often and by what authority was this done. 156. Were the admissions of aspirants always done by the com-petent Superiors, observing the rules of law (c. 543). Concerning the nouiceship~The house 157. Was every novitiate house erected or transferred after 215 ~EPORT TO ~OME Review [or Religious obtaining in advance the permission of the Holy See (c. 554 §§ 1, 2). 158. Does perfect religious observance flourish in the novitiate houses. 159. Did Superiors'assign to them or permit to remain in them religious who are hot exemplary in their zeal for religious observance (c. 55¢ § 3). Concerning the beginning of the novicesbip 160. Did all fulfill the prescribed days of spiritual exercises before entering the noyiceship (c. 541)~ 161. Were the rite and the rules prescribed for admission to the noviceship faithfully observed (c. 553). Concerning board and expenses for the postulantsfiip and nouicesbip 162. Is the right of the Institute to demand payment for the expenses of the religious habit and board during the postulantship and noviceship, given in the Constitutions or customarily recognized by express agreement. 163. Who determines the amount to be paid. 164. Was there any instance of the grave abuse of dela.ying the profession because the expenses of the postulantship or noviceshlp had not been paid. Concerning the giscipline of the novicesbip 165. Did all the novices and each of them from the beginning of the noviceship have a complete copy of the Constitutions. 166. Are the novices, according to law and the Constitutions, kept separate from the professed, and is any undue communication between them tolerated (c. 564 §§ 1, 2). 167. Did all and each of the novices before their profession per-form the canonical year of noviceship complete and continuous, without counting the first day, in a house of noviceship lawfully erected, under the care and direction of a Master (cc. 555 § 1, 556, 557). 168. Was the noviceship extended or shortened beyond the limits fixed by law (c. 571 § 2) and the Constitutions; if so, for how long a time and by what authority was this done. Concerning the government of the noviceship 169. Was there always in every novitiate a Master of novices 216 dul~l, 1950 REPORT TO ROME duly appointed or elected (c. 560). 170. Have the novice Master and his Socius all the qualifications and all the requisites prescribed by the common law (c. 559 §§ 1, 2) and the Constitutions, or did dispensations have to be asked for and obtained. 171. Are the Master and Socius free from all offices and minis-tries in or out of the house, which might interfere with their care and government of the novices (c. 559 § 3). 172. Do the Masters of novices, according to law (c. 561) and the Constitutions, under the vigilance and direction of Superiors and Visitors, have full possession of their proper authority and use it for the government and training of the novices. 173. Do all the Masters fulfill their office properly (c. 562) and remain constantly in the novitiate house. 174. Do the Master of novices and his Socius abstain from hearing sacramental confessions unless the penitents of their own accord ask them to do so according to c. 891. Concerning the spiritual training of the nooices 175. Were the novices, under the guidance of the Master, during the first or canonical year of the noviceship, engaged exclusively according to law (c. 565 §§ 1, 2) in exercises of piety and other exercises proper to novices; or on the contrary were they assigned to hearing confessions, preaching and external works or ministries; or " did they apply themselves expressly to the study of literature, sci-ence or humanities (c. 565 § 3) beyond the limited measure in which this has been approved by the Sacred Congregation. 176. During the second year of noviceship or during .the time which is over and above the canonical year, were the norms which were given in the Instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious (2 Nov. 1921 ) observed : a) Regarding the manner of exercising the external ministries of the Institute (nn. I, II). b) Regarding the conditions under which alone the novices may be sent outside the novitiate house (III). c) Regarding the two months' preparation for the profession (IV). Concerning the documents to be drawn up before the profession 177. Did all the novices, according to c. 569 § I, before the first 217 REPORT TO ROME Review [or Religious profession of simple vows, freely cede the administration and ~itber cede or dispose of the use and usufruct of their property. 178. In case the aforesaid cession and disposition was not duly made before the profession, or in case new property was acquired thereafter, was it made or completed after the profession (c. 569 § 2). 179. Were any changes of the aforesaid cession and disposition after the profession, made always in accordance with ¢. 580 § 3. 180. a) Did the novices of the Congregation, before their first profession of temporary vows, freely make a will in due form, valid according to the civil law, regarding their present or future property (c. 569 § 3). b) Did they afterward render this will valid according to the civil law (c. 569 § 3). 181. Were any changes which may have been made in this will after profession, made according to c. 583 2°. 182. Are the aforesaid documents a), b) faithfully kept in the Archives. Concerning admission to profession and the act of profession 183. Do the General Superior and General Council carefully and constantly keep a severe watchfulness as regards admissions; have they issued any special norms in this matter. 184. Does there seem to be in any Province too great facility regarding admissions, and have the prescribed norms and sound cri-teria been faitbfhlly observed. 185. Has the first profession, after eight full days of spiritual exercises, always been made validly and licitly according to law and the Constitutions (cc. 572, 573, 575) in the novitiate house itself (c. 574 § 1). 186. Was the prescribed rite observed in making the profession, and was the document attesting it duly drawn up (c. 576). Concerning the canonical examination 187L Did the Major Superioresses, or others acting in their name, two months before admission to the noviceship, to the first temporary profession and to perpetual profession, give timely notice to the local Ordinary (c. 552 § 1), so that he or his Delegate mlght gratuitously conduct the canonical examination regarding the free and conscious will of the postulant or candidate (c. 552 § 2). 188t. Was the prescribed examination always made. 218 July, 1950 REPORT TO ROME Concerning the dowry--The obligation and delivery of the dou)rg 1891". According to the Constitutions, is the dowry obligatory in the Congregation, or is it left entirely or partly optional (c. 547 §3). 1901". Was the delivery of the dowry made according to law (c. 547 § 2) and the Constitutions. Concerning the investment, conseroation, administration and return of the dou)rg 1911". Were the dowries, immediately after the first profession, always invested by the Major Superioress, with the deliberative vote of her Council and the consent of the Ordinary of the place where the capital of the dowries is kept (c. 549). 1921". Were the dowries spent or encumbered in any way b~fore the death of the religious concerned; if so, by what authority was this done. Were the dowries so spent or encumbered, even though it were done after obtaining lawful permission, afterward restored or cleared of the encumbrance; what is their condition at the present time (c. 549). 1931. Where and how are the dowries administered. Are the rules of law faithfully observed regarding their administration (cc. 550, 535 § 2). 1941. Is all property which is brought in as dowry, even though it be in excess of the sum required for a dowry in the Constitutions, or even though there be in the Congregation no obligation to bring in a dowry, accepted, invested, administered, etc. with the observance of the norms which govern dowries. 195t. In case of the departure of a professed religious, for what-ever cause it occurred, and in case of transfer, were the dowry and likewise the persona.l belongings which the novice brought with her at her entrance, in the condition in which they were when she left, restored to the religious departing or transferring, without the income which had already accrued (cc. 551, 570 § 2). 1961". Is this done also with property freely contributed for increasing the dowry even beyond the sum required by the Consti-tutions. 1971". In case of the departure of a professed religious who had been received without a dowry or with an insufficient one, if she was unable to provide for herself out of her own property, did the Insti-tute out of charity, according to law (c. 643 § 2), give her Whatever 219 REPORT TO ROME Reoieu; [or Religious was needed that she might safely and decently return home and be decently supp.orted for'a time. Concerning the profession and the renewal of profession 198. What if any dispensations were necessary for the pro-nouncement of the vows. 199. How many and what sanations were afterward necessary. 200. Were the temporary vows which are prescribed by law and by the Constitutions (c. 574 § 1), when the time for which they were taken had elapsed (c. 577 § 1), always renewed according to law (c. 577 § 2), so that no one ever remained without vows. 201. How often was the temporary profession extended beyond the six-year period allowed by law, and by what authority was this done (c. 574 § 2). 202. Conversely, how of

Issue 3.3 of the Review for Religious, 1944. ; MAY 15, 19,44 ~Voi~UME,.III Ri VI, I W' FOR :i I LIGIO,,US .VoLuMEIII :" MAY 15, 1944 ~ NUMBER3 ° ONTENTS GOOD CONFESSIONS AND BETTI~R CONFESSIONS--r ~ 'Gerald Kelly, S.J.' ; . 145 THE-QUEgTION OF VOTING Edwin F. Healy, SIJ . 158 CONCERNING BOOKLETS . . . . . THE CARE OF SICK RELIGIOUS Adam C. Ellis. S.3 . " 1"67 WE SALUTE THEE. MARY'. MOTHER OF GODT William B. Fah~rty, S.3. " ' .,'175 WHO IS THIS RODRIGUEZ? Augustin~e Klaas, S.J. " " 181~ ,TWO HYMNS TO ~MARY" -F~ran¢is N. Korth.-S.J . . 1.92 COMMUNICATIONS .(On Retreats and Vocations) . : 198 BOOK REVIEWS~ (Edited by Clement DeMuth S.3.)-- The Man"from Rocca Sicca: Subdeaconship~ Masyk.noll Mission Let~ .tars: Cardinal Mercier's Conferences: Venerable Vincent Pallotti: "Con- " , ,else Catholic' Dictionary: Lourdes Interpreted by the Salve-Re~ina; Teaching Confraternity Classes: Publlc,Speaking . ! . . ~ ¯ . 204 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE OF INTEREST TO" RELIGIOU~ ~210~ BOOKS -RECEIVED . 2110 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 2-1. Redecorating Stations of the Cross . x . '.;. ~ . . . : 212 22. Visit Required for Gfiining Indulgence . 23. Use of Standard Time for Eucharistic Fast . 213 "L24. Voting in Chapter Elections . 214' ' 25. ,Co~frat~rnity of Pil~rim~ " " 2"15 26. Religious Attending Motion Pictures ~. . . : . ". 215 bUR CONTRIBUTORS " ' " . '. ' REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1944: Vol. III, No. 3. PubliShed bbmon~hly: January. March, May, July, September; and November at the,~College, Press. _606 Harrison~Street, Topeka, .Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. MarTs, Kansas, with' ecclesiastical approbation. E~tered as second class matter January 15, q9~2, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under'the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine~,Ellard, S.J., ~erald Kellyl S~.3,.~ Copyright, 1944, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations .6f reasonable length, provided due ~:redit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S.A Before writing to us, please consult notice on ins;de back cover. ood Con essions and Bet: :er Cont:essions Gerald Kelly, S.J. ~'~ELIGIOUS not infrequently exp.eo~ience a vague sense |'r~ of dissatisfaction with their conKssions. They must confess .weekly, generally at a certain time, even though they are not in the mood. At times they must make a rather hasty immediate preparation for confession. Their sins are usually "small sins"; in fact, it is often difficult to fodus on any really, definite sins to confess.A certdin 0 amount of routine seems unavoidable; yet routine confes-sions are strongly condemned by many spiritual writers. Finally, most religious have read or heard of the many advantages of frequent devotional confession, and the~. want to reap some of these fruits ~:or themselves. Yet, despite their holy desires, they sometimes fail to see any good effects of their confessions; they are even inclined to wonder if their confessions are not entirely fruitless. Very likely there is no absolute remedy for a sense of dissatisfaction in those who are striving for perfection. Some dissatisfaction is natural, even helpful. But this holy sense of dissatisfaction is different from discourag.ement, worry, or a vague feeling of uneasiness. As much as pos-sible, the dissatisfaction should be clearly defined, because only then can it be used constructively as a stepping stone to the attainment .of one's ideals. My purpose in the present article is to propose a few rules that may help religious to clafif.y any dissatisfaction they may feel with their confessions ~nd to give some defi-nite direction to their efforts for self-improvement. The" rules enunciate nothing new. No doubt most religious- 145 GERALD KELLY ,. Review for Religious know them well; yet I believe that some fail to apply them and that the results of not applying them .are a waste of effort, a lack Of perfect peace of mind, and sometimes dis-couragement. If all religious, from the novitiate onward, would observe these rules faithfully, they would be'much more satisfied, with their confessions and would reap many definite advantage~ from them. Four Rules In formulating these rules, and in commenting on them, I am limiting the subject to the devotional confession, as this is the type of confession that. religious most frequently make. Keeping this in mind--namely, that we are speaking only of the devotional confession--we can state the rules as follows: Rule I: Be sure to confess, at least ;n a 9eneral way, some real, subjective s;n that you have cerfainly comm;Hed. Rule 2: Have genu;ne, supernatural con÷r;÷;on, a÷ least ;mperfecf, for some s;n ;nclucled ;n your confess;on. Rule 3: Be willincj to accept and to perform anyjustly ;reposed penance. Rule 4: Try to sanctify yourself ÷hroucjh confess;on by cult;vaf;ng a more e~fecfive purpose of amendment. It may be well to call attention immediately to the decided, difference between the first three rifles andthe fourth rule. The first three express minimum essentials; the fourth .expresses an ideal. A penitent who observes the first three rules makes a good.confession; a penitent who keeps not only the first three, but also the fourth, makes a better confession. This is an important distinction. Our. ideal, of course, is to make the better confession; but there is a great deal of consolation and peace of mind in knowing that our confessions are good, even though they could be better. A good confession o~ devotion always produces some grace in the soul. 146 May, 1944 GOOD'CONFESSIONS AND BETTER CON~ESSIONS A GOOD. CONFESSION It would be a wise policy .fob every religious to have a two-fold aim in making hisconfessions: first, to make a 9ood confession by fulfilling all minimum essentials; and °secondly, to make his confession even better by the use of some practicable plan for applying the fourth rule. In keeping with this two-fold aim, I am dividing the remain-der of this article into two parts, which treat respectively of a 9ood confession and a betterconfession. Confession of Sins On the part of the penil~ent, three things are requirgd for the reception of the Sacrament of Penance; confession of sins, contrition, and satisfaction. The first of our rules enunciates the minimum essentials for thd first of these acts. It is certainly not difficult for anyone to fulfill this rule in a d~votional confession. It is sufficient to confess any or all of the venial sins comm.iyted since, the last con-fession, or any mortal sin or venial sin of one's past life: A penitent can even fulfill this rule by alv~ays confessing the same sin from his past life: for example, he once culpably missed Ma~s on Sunday, and since, then, in his devotional confessions, he never mentions anything specifically but that one sin. "There's nothing special since my. last confes-. sion, Father,-" he says week aftgr week,. "but in my past life I once missed Mass through my own fault." Finally, the penitent does not have to do even as much as that in a devo-tional ~onfession. It dan b~ sufficient if he simply includes his sins in a general way: for example: "There's nothing special since my last confession, but I want to include all the sins of my life." ,The repetition, week after week, of the same sin of the past life, without confessing any new matter, is not, of course, the ideal. Nor is it the ideal to make a merely gen- 147 GERALD KELLY Review for Religious~ eral accusation. Yet such accuations are, strictly speaking, sufficient in a devotional confession, provided the.penitent has the requisite contrition--as will be explained in the comments on-the second rule.1 I have referred to such accusations, not to encourage their use, but simply to indi-care how easy it.is to live up to the demands of the first rule. Despite the fact that it is comparatively easy to.observe the first rule, it is also possible for well-meaning penitents-- even religious--to violate it and to make unintentionally fruitless~ confessions. Perhaps a few sample confessions-- entirely fictitious, of course--will serve to illustrate what I- mean. A religious is preparing for confession. To him, as he examines his conscience, the past week looks.biack enough. On Sunday, when he,assisted at Mass he had certainly done everything that the Church requires for the complete ful-fillment of the obligation. Yet he had been no seraph at Mass; he could surely have assisted more.devoutly. On Monday, he had felt a strong inspiration of grace to pass up the butter at one meal: and on Tuesday he had felt an equally strong inspiration to spend a half-h0ur of his free time before the Blessed Sacrament. He had neglected both these divine:"invitations. Finally, despite the fact-that his rule ordered that all. should make their beds before the morning meditation, he had three times ~put off this dis-tasteful action until after breakfast. Of course, 1~is insti-tute states explicitly that merely disciplinary °rules, not involving the vows, do not bind under pain of sin; liuf 1The unnecessary use of the merely generic accusation, without mentioning anything in particular (e.g. "There's nothing special since my last confession,. Father; but I want to include in this confession all the sins of my life"), is particularly to be dis-couraged. By reason of a more or less general custom iri the Church, penitents who make devotional confessions are expected to mention some particular kind of sin, either from their past life or conimitted since their last confession. ~For the benefit of students of theology who might read this article, let me say that in speaking of the confession of devotion I use the words "fruitless" and "invalid" indiscriminately. The valid devotional confession must, I believe, be fruitful. 148 Ma~l, 1944 GOOD CONFESSIONS AND BETTER CONFESSIONS this, he tells himself, is no excuse for him. He enters the confessional and accuses himself as follows: "Since my last confession I was negligent in my prayers; I was ungrateful to God; and I was disobedient. That's all I can remember, Father." Another religious] in preparing for confession, note~ that he has often felt strong resentment against someone who had offended him; that he has 10ad many distractions during meditation; and that 6n one occasion he made a re-mark that hurt someone's feelings. He might note also that the feelings and distractions were not voluntary find that the offending remark was unintentional; yet these excuses do not occur to him. He confesses as follows: "Since my l'ast confession I was uncharitable in thought and speech and was distracted in my prayers. That'll be all, Father." A third religious has had a really trying time of it since his last confession. He has been literally besieged by a strong temptation to impurity of thought; in fact, the temptation has been so strong that he really does not know how he stands before God. He decides to go to confession "just~to be safe." In confession he says: '.'I had a very strong temptation against purity, and I want to accuse my-self in ~o far as I am guilty before God. Th~re's r~othing else bothering me, Father." I have chosen these three fictitious confessions because ."they illustrate defects which, thot~gh very likely uncom-mon, could make a.confession unintentionally fruitless. In the first confession, only imperfections,, not real sins, were confessed. In th~ second confession,, the things mentioned might have been sins, but there was no subjectioe guilt; the uncharitable feelings and distracting thoughts were invol-untary, the offending remark was unintentional. In the third confession there was no certain matter: the penitent may have been guilty of mortal or venial sin, but he may 1,49 GERALD KELLY Review for Religious have committed no sin.at all. All of these confessions are at least probably defective. Yet all could be saved from fruitlessness by the intelligent use of a concluding accusation such as "I include in this confession all the sins of my life"; "I want to include all the sins of my past life"; "For these, and fdr all the sins of my life, especially for . . ., I ask pardon from almighty. God and penance and absolution from you, Father." It is true that accusations like these can become purely mechani-cal and practically meaningless, yet they are infinitely bet-ter than such conclusions as: "That's all I remember"-- which adds nothihg to the confession.; "That'll be all,"-- which sounds like a person burring groceries ; -and so forth. It is hardly advisable to force religious to make subtle dis-tinctions between imperfections and venial sins; but it surely is advisable for all penitents who habi'tu'ally commit only small sins to have some concluding accusation which covers up a.possible insufficiency of matter in their con-fessions. " As I said, these confessions are purely fictitious. If they occurred in real life, a confessor would generally note the.deficiency and ask a question or two that would save the confessions from invalidity. Yet this might not always be ,the case; and penitents should be tiained to make goo.d confesiions independently of questions by the confessor. Contrition The second rule givei the minimum essential for con-trition in the devdtional confession. Here again, it is important to distinguish between the ideal and the essential. Of all the acts of the ,penitent, contrition is the most important; and everyone's ideal should be to have a pro-- found and effective contrition. Yet the confession can be good, even though contrition be far from the ideal. The 150 May, 1944 GOOD CONFESSIONS AND BETTER CONFESSIONS ideal, even in a devotional confession, is perfect contrition; yet imperfect suffices. The ideal is that the contrition extend to all.sins confessed: yet it~ is sufficient if the contri-tion applies to any sin included in the confession.8 The ideal is that contrition be deeply moving, like Magdalen's; yet it is sufficient if the contrition be as unemotional as paying the rent. Important though it is, it is not extremely difficult, to haye sufficient contrition for a fruitful devotional confes-sion. A penitent who has once committed a mortal sin, has repented of it, and now includes that sin in his confes-sion, either by mentioning it by name or by including it in a. general accusation, may take it for granted that he has sufficient contrition if he continues in his good resolve to avoid all mortal sin. A penitent who has committed a delil~erate venial sin in the past and who now includes that sin in his confession, either specifically, or at least in his gen- . eral accusation, ha~ sufficient contrition if he renews his good resolve to avoid that sin in future. Even a .penitent who includes only the "smaller" venial.sins in his confes-sionmthe semi-deliberate sins, as they are sometimes called--has sufficient contrition, if he is sincerely resolved to try to do better in some way, for example by eliminating one kind of sin or a certain class of sins, or even by reducing the: number of his small sins. We generally speak of contrition for sin as if it were one simple act. In reality it seems to involve a rather com-plicated process. It would not be worth our while, in a, aWhen I say that it-is sufficient if the contrition applies to only one of the gins confessed, I mean that this is enough for the absolution and the reception of grace through the sacrament. This does not mean that all the other venial sins are for-given. Sins for which there is no repentance at all ar~ not forgiven either in con-fession or outside of confession. For example, a penitent who has committed two venial sins, has true sorrow for one, but no iorrow for the other, would receive grace through the sacrament but not forgiveness for the one unrepented sin. His confession would be fruitful, but it could be more fruitful. 151 GERALD KELLY Reoietu for Religious pratti.c.al article of this nature, to go deeply into this proc-essl " But it may be useful to indicate here that, in making aft. act of contrition, a penitent should pay particular atten-tibn to two dements of the psychological process: namely, to motivation .and to purpose, of amendment. If these two elements are present, one may safely assume that an act of contrition is good; if either one is 1~icking, there is no real cogtntion. ¯ Motivation is not contrition, but it. is a necessary pre-lude td it. The sinner must realize the evil of his acts before he can truly repent Of them. And he must see this evil ~hrough the eyes of faith if his contrition, whether in or out of confession, is to be supernatural and effective. As we know, faith supplies us with a variety of motives f0r.repen~ance, some more perfect than others. It shows Us sin as contrary to the will of God and therefore some-thingagainst God's infinite holiness and goodness; it shows Us: the Son of God suffering on the Cross for our sins; it reveals sin as ingratitude to God~ o.ur.supreme.benefactor; it tells us of theo richness of heaven, of the terrible fate of hell, of the punishmen.ts of pu.rgatory, and of the temporal purlishments for sin in this life. All penitents shOuld keep in mind that the motive for their contrition should be applicable to the sins for which they wish to be sorry. In particular, it is necessary for those who Want to make an act of contrition for venial sins to remember that not all motives that apply to mortal sins are applic~ible to venial sins. Despite the fact that many books speak of venial sins in the most thunderofis terms, venial sin js not mbr~al sin. Mortal sin destroys the likeness of God in the soul; venial sin dods nbtt Mortal sin breaks the l~0nd.gf friendship between the soul and God; venial sin does not. Mortal sin is deserving of hell; venial sin.is not. In recalling these differences I am not trying to 'belittle Ma~l, 1944 GOOD CONFESSIO~IS AND BETTER CONFESSIONS venial sin. I simply insist on the necessity 9f seeing such sins in their true perspective in order to elicit a genuine act of contrition for them. It is only by stretching words far beyond their obvious connotation that one can make an act of contrition for venial sin "because of the fear of hell." This motive is applicable only in a roundabout way: for example, because venial sins may lead to mortal sin,. which is deserving of hell. On the other hand, there are many motives which do apply directly to v~nial sir/s, even to thd smallest of them. Venial sins are contrary to God's holy will; they defeat His wise plans for our sanctification and for our attainment of a certain degree of heavenly glory; they manifest a failure to appreciate His gifts; they are a shabby return fdr what our Lord did for us; they are deserving of some punishment in this life or in purgatory. It would be well for those who make devotional confes-sions to meditate occasionally, especially during the time of retreat, on motives such as these so that they can briefly and intelligently recall appropriate motives when preparing for confession. From the point of view of motivation, therefore, it is perhaps easier to make an act of contrition for mortal sin than it is for venial sin. At least it is easier to see the evil of mortal sin. As for the purpose of amendment, less is required for venial sins than for mortal sin. No matter what mortal sins a penitent has committed, he has not sufficient contrition unless his purpose of amendment extends to all mortal sins. He must will to avoid all mo]:tal sins in the future. Thus, the ordinary definition of a purpose of amendment as "a firm purpose to sin no more" applies quite literally to mor-tal sins. But this does not seem to be strictly necessary with regard tovenial sins. In facL.with regard to all the smaller sins. taken together, it is hardly possible. Rather, in the 153 GERALD KELLY Review for Religious case of sorrow for venial sins, the essential thing is the sincere will to do better. This distinction between mortal and venial sins, with respect to purpose of amendment, is based on the ft~nda-mental difference between these two kinds of sin. Mortal sin, of its nature, implies a rejection of God's friendship; hence one cannot will to gain or continue in God's friend-ship unless he intends to try to avoid all mortal sin, with-out exception. But one who commits only venial sins is already a friend of God; and this friendship admits of many degrees and of continuous growth. There is no con-tradiction in willing to a~coid some venial sins, but not others, or in willing to reduce the total number of one's venial sins, without proposing to avoid venial sin entirely. _ Satisfaction The third rule enunciates' the minimum essential for the third act of the penitent--satisfaction. I stated this rule ¯ merely for the sake of~omplete.ne~s. The rule itself hardly requires comment or explanation, except perhaps to remark --what is probably obvious--that there is a difference between willingness to accept a penance and the actual per- ' formance of the penance. The willingness is required for the validity of the confession; without this disposition a confession would not be good. But the actual perform-ance of the penance does not pertain to the essence of the Sacrament but only to the integrity of it. A BETTER CONFESSION The first three rules, as I said, express the minimum essentials of a fruitful confession. All who make a devo-tional confession, even religious, should make it their first aim t6 keep those rules. But religious, in particular, should not be content with that. Their aim should be to ,make 154 May, 1944 '" GOOD" CONFESSIONS AND BETTER CONFESSIONS their confessions better, especially througl'i the observance of the fourth rule. ¯ Books and articles on confession offer many suggestions for improving our confessions. I .should like to suggest ¯ here merely one workal~le plan for.using confession as an instrument 6f self-improvement; and I think I can accom-plish my purpose better by an example .than by a long dis-cussion. A religious is. making his annual retreat. In surveying the past year he notices that he has committed many small sins. He.wants to correct th~se, and in particular he wants ¯ to correct two habitual~.faults: uncharitable -speech and small sins against poverty. He, determines:what mearis.he willtake to'avoidthese fatilts, and he makes his resolutions accordingly. When his program:is .all prepared, he sud: denly re.alizes,- with a.twing~ of conscience, that he has made :such resolutions in previous refreats and that in a very sh6rt ¯ time they were either badly mutilated or completely ignored. He knows that during the retiea~ hehada sincere.purpose ¯ of amendment; what helacked was something .to sustain that purpose of amendment thiough the year .follow~i.ng the retreat. . Confronted with the vexing problem of an unsustained pubpose of amendment, thereligious decides to solve it.by effecting a union betweenhis retreat .resolutions and.his weekly confeshions Of the coming year; : :.: ¯ .'. The retreat ends; the daysgo by till it is time for.the weekly confession." . In examining his conscience, the rdi-gious looks first .to ~his retreat resolutions. He has kept them this week. He thanks God for this, renews his good resolutibn and, having finished his examination of con-science, he confesses as follows" "Since my last confession ¯ have ' I accuse myself of these and ot: all the other sins of my life, especially uncharitable speech and sins 155 GERALD K~LLY Reoiew for Religio~e against poverty." Another week goes by, with the same results. The "examination of conscience and the accusation of the two special kinds of sin are made in.the same way. In the third week, there is a weakening. Before confession the religious recalls the motives for avoiding these sins, asks pardon for his falls, and renews his good resolution. In confession he accuses himself as follows: "Since my last confession I was uncharitable in speech twice and committed one small sin against poverty. In my annual retreat I determined to cor-rect these faults, and I want to ask pardon for them now and to renew my purpose of amendment. I include in this confession all the sins of my life." Enough for the example. In giving it I do not mean ¯ that evdrything must be taken literally. Ten penitents might follow the same general plan, yet use ten slightly differing methods in applying it. The important thing is the general plannthe linking of the retreat resolutions .with the subsequent confessions. The plan that I have suggested may not-be suitable to all; but, in the absence of a better . one, it is worth trying. It offers definite help along the lines 'of motivation and of concentrated effort at amendment of faults. Retreat is a time of great grace; seldom Will our motivation be nobler .or.more clearly perceived. Any plan which wili continually recall that motivation must be profitable. And I think it is a truismthat in the spiritual life, whether on the nega-tive ok the positive side, there must be some concentration of effort. We cannot rid ourselves of all faults at once;. we cannot acquire all virtues at once. I iealize that this plan involves "monotony"; but I do, not know of any plan for spiritual progress that'does not involve some "monotony." If more variety is really .required, the objectives can b'e changed occasionally, for ¯ 156 " Ma~l, 1944 GOOD CONFESSIONS AND BETTER COlqFESSIOBIS instance, from monthly recollection to monthly recollec-tion: but I think it is important .that we should never get away entirely from our retreat program unless we are faced with entirely new difficulties that demand our undivided attention. Some may object that the plan is too "negative." To this I can answer only that confession.is sfipposed to deal with the "negative" side of our lives and that I have not proposed this plan as a complete enunciation of our spir-itual ideals. And I might add that, if used perseveringly, the plan is very positive in its results. It makes for a great increase of grace through the Sacrament, for increasing purity of conscience, and, incidentally, for helpful spiritual direction by the confessor. MARIAN LIBRARY Some time ago plans were formulated for the organization of a Marian Library at the University of Dayton. The purpose of the project is to collect all known books on the Blessed Virgin, thus honoring Mary, Patroness of the United States, and establishing a center of research on Marlology in this country. If~ you wish to help in the project or wish further information concerning it, write to: Father Law-fence Monheim, S.M., Director, Marian Library', University of Dayton, Dayton 9, Ohio. BROTHER RICHARD PAMPURI Brother Richard Pampuri was a physician and surgeon, a member of the Hos-pitaller Order of St. John of God, who died in 1930, at the early age of thirty-two. The Brothers of St. John of God now publish a small pamphlet containing a sketch of Brother Pampuri's life and some vocational information about their order. For further information apply to: Rev. Brother Master of Novices, Brothers of St. John. of God, 2445 South Western Avenue, Los. Angeles 7, California. PLEASE~Somo subscribers have not yet sent us their Postal Zone numbers. If yours is not on the wrapper of your copy, will you please send it? ,. 157 The Question ot: V0t:ing Edwin F. Healy, S.J. 44| N WHAT ways may a citizen help in maintaining .a genuine democracy?" asks a Civics' Catechism; and, in the answer, first place is given to "voting at elec-tions." The reason for thus stressing the .importance of voting is ~asily understood when one realizes that the bal-lot can fashion the whole superstructure of our govern-ment. The justice of our laws and the effective and impa.rtial administering of them depend upon those who elect to office our legislators and our administrators. Responsibility for the quality of our government thus lies, to a large extent, in the hands 0f our "voters. The citizens of a nation have the obligation of pro-. m0ting the general welfare of their country. This obliga- ¯ tion is one ot? legal justice. BU( what exactly is legal jus-tice? Legal justice is a virtue which inclines citizens to render to their community what is its due. Men are intended by nature, not to live as hermits, but 'to dwell ' togetl~er in groups or communities. Living in groups, they enjoy many benefits. They are thus aided in developing themselves spiritually and intellectually. ~ They thus par-ticipate in the joys of varied companionship. They feel the protective strength of large numbers bound together for a common purpose. They Share in the improvements made possible by the industry and ingenuity of their associates. They have access to~ commddities, forms of XFather Healy wrote this article at our request. It seemed to us that ~uch an article. might be necessary, or at least very useful, at this time. During election year teach-ers are frequently asked questions about the duty of voting, and religious themsel~,es face the personal problem of judging the utility of their voting and their duty to do so. We believe that in some places ecclesiastical superiors" give specific instructions concerning the fulfillment of this duty. In the absence of such particular guidance, religious should find Father Healy's general explanation helpful.reED. 158 THt~ QUESTION OF VOTING entertainment, facilities for travel, and so forth, whic.h would be undreamed of if all were recluses. All this is just as nature intended it. Human society, then," is a natural institution and it,has certain claims on the members of the community. As Pope Leo-XIII wrote in his encyclical Christian Democracg, ".No one lives in a community only for his personal advantage. He lives for the common good as well." A country, a State, or a city, has the right to ¯ deman'd of its citizens whatever is, necessary to promote the general welfare. A citizen, therefore, must fulfill the duties which correspond vcith these rights of the community. The virtue which inclines citizens to live up to these obligations is calle~d legal justice. Legal justice, for example, prompts one to defend.his country, even though this involves facing the devastating gun-fire of the enemy. Legal justice dis-poses citizens to observe the just laws of their State, to con-tribute a fair. share to the.financial support Of the govern-ment. It is legal justice, too, which imposes on citizens the duty of p.romoting the common good by means of intel-ligent voting. The common welfare is greatly furthered by the con-scientious use of the ballot. Member.s. of a community.,' then, should reflect upon the vital importance of exerc!sing this power that is given them by virtue of their citizenship. Intelligent, competent, honest leade~rs are needed by our country. This fact is brought home to us when we realize that our public officials manage, not only political affairs, but matters which may intimately affect the religious activi- " ties, the educational system, and the whole social and indus-. trial life of a city, or State, dr country. A communistic governor or president, for example, could accomplish much towards u~dermining our democracy. A militantly bigoted mayor could do much harm to the Church. Judges who 159 EDWIN F. HEAL¥ are guided by a false philosophy will injure the community in which they live~ One can, therefore, readily understand how much is involved in the selection of those who conduct the public business of our country. It is regrettable that, in spite of its importance, not all who are entitled to the ballot exercise this privilege. It has been estimated that as many as one half ofthose who were .eligible to vote have absented themselves from the polls in some election§ of the past. This was true ev.en in impor- .tant presidential elections. In elections of less general inter-est it has happened that only about one-fourth of the elig-~ ible voters appeared at the polls. Moreover, in primary elections, which select the candidates for o~ce, this apathy in public affairs is often far more pronounced. Such indif-ference ¯ to matters which concern the common welfare encourages corruption in our government. Many of those emp~owered to vote fail to do so because of laziness, or because of some slight inconvenience Which is involved in their particular case~ It requires fair weather to lure some citizens to the polls. Others refuse to vote because they are dissatisfied with the choice of candidates offered by our political parties. Others, again, feel the futility of trying to-defeat one who' is supported by a powerful, well-organized political machine. Often enough citizens excuse themselves from their duty of ~roting on the assumption ¯ that their single ballot will make little difference in the final o results. Although it is possible that one vote may change :the outcome of an election, one must admit that this is highly improbable. Let us suppose, however, that thou-sands of uprightcitizens were to excuie themselves from voting on the plea that "My vote won't matter".--cou,ld not the resulting loss to the desirable candidate easily bring about his defeat? This point should be remembered-by those who honestly desire to fulfill-their civic duty.¯ At 160 May, 1944 TNE QUESTION OF VOTING times, moreover; one is inclined to forget that his failure to east a vote will, in many cases, be equivalent to casting a Vote in favor of a candidate who will harm the public welfare. Althougl~ the common good can be advanced so much by the honest voting of the members of the community, there are a great many cases ~where the choice made at the polls is not dictated by conscience. Not a few of our citi-zens, it is said, sell their votes to the highest bidder. Besides this, there are no doubt many thousands who write their ballots according to the instructions which they have received from some ward boss who has befriended them in one manner or another. A.petty politician obtains votes for his candidate in various ways. He procures jobs on the city payroll for certain ones who will be able to influence the opinion of many acquaintances. He protects Others who are running a business which is forbidden by the law. He "arranges" matters with a friendly judge for thosewho have been arrested for violating minor city ordinances. At election time a dollar here and .a few dollars there buy va!u-able votes. Vo~es which are delivered to the ward boss because of a favor .received do not represent the genuine preference of the v6ters for the candidates selected. They represent merely the preference 6f a single individual, namely, that of the petty politician who has gained control over these votes. Frequently enough the ward boss is quite dishonest. Biibery, lying, injustice are common tools by which he "gets results."~ He has but one choice in any election' and that choice is the candidate that has 'been selected by his political party. Be that candidate good or bad, the ward boss will support him by every means available. We can re.adi!y understand, therefore, that the ward boss's choice may turn out to be one which will be quite injurious to the ¯ ¯ 161 EDWIN F. I-ii~gi.~ :" '/tevie~o ¢or. i~et.,'gio,,s~ go~d of the community. If we recall to. mind the thou-sand~ of those whose purchased votes are merely the rubber-stamped selection of some w~lrd boss, we shall realize what an unfair advantage an unscrupulous candidate may have over one who is honest. Thousands of voters, it appears, are influenced at the polls by one c0nsideration:."What immediate advantage will this'person's election, bring to me?" They seem never to give thought to the effect which the candidate's victory may have on the State or country as a whole. They focus. their attention on some petty benefit which they them-selves will receive. Ordinarily the major consideration for them i~ the question of jobs. Many of those who are employed by the ~idministration which is in power vote for that administration's candidate as insurance against the. iossof their.jobs. They realize that, if the candidate of another p~rty is elected, in all probability he will replace then~ with those who have proved their political allegiance .to him. Th~ere is; of course, no fault to be foun~l with men anal' wom~n-Who endeavor to protect themselves against the loss of their jobs, but it should be evident that .such Pr0.tectiOia .mustnot betheir primary consideration. It should not inteifere Wi~h the fulfilment of.~ their duty .to p.".r0mote thi~: ~0mmon good: Hence;" if.:a 'certain candidate is unfit .for o~ce, he sh0uld: not be. Voted for, no~ matter what patter loyalty might dictate. . " -~ . ¯ . :- . An0~her"~ype 6f citizeri~ ~hat concerns. .us- :in this queso: tion is the one who a~cepts his duty of voting very lightly. Hema~r be an Upright and an intelligent'pe.rson. He may .be irreproachably honest in all his de.alings.with his neigh-boi. He may be a generous contributor to charitable insti-tutioiii. But he fails to do his sha~e in the task of electing competent public officers. With men 0f this type, there is .no pretence ~t making a serious effort to !~arn the qUalifi- 162 Ma~t, ~19 4 4 THE QUESTION*OF.~ VOTING cations:of the candidates listed on the.ballot. They kno~" little of the good qualities or of the bad ones of those: who are running for office. They may .base their opinion of the candidate on such superficial points as that of a winning personality, a magic voice, social standing, the nationality ~ of his parents, and so forth. They form snap judgmentSOf the candidate's ability and do not b~ther, to investigate the soundness of their conclusions. They accept a party plat-form at the value given it by its defenders'and refuse ~to read the arguments of its opponents. " When one recalls, then, the large number of those who are guided in voting by unfair influences and by superficial considerations, the importance of the honest, educated, conscientious voter becomes apparent. " Consequently, it.:is not too much tO expect that especially th6se whoare ¯ blessed with sound 'Christian. training and with at:,least average intellectual gifts employ these benefits' at election time to promote the common good. They should ex~rcise 'all the influence in their power to protect the less fortunate, who are being.exploited by unsciupulous political .bosses. From what has beenexplained above,-it is' deaf,.then, that ci(i'zens~ are obliged :in conscience to, fulfill ~the"du'ty 6f voting. Is this 6bligation a serious one? .Yes, it is, ff0n~e.'-s vote will probably defeata candidate for.office who -would bring? graveharm :to the. comi-fi:unity. A very indompetent. person~ for example,. or-one who'is strongly anti-religio~s~ wouldbe such a candidate. Ordinarily,,however, in this country,' this condition is not verified, .and so the duty to vote is, not grave. Moreover, there is no obligation at :all - ¯ , to vote: (a). if I am certain that my vote would have no effect on the final results of the election; or (b) if ~¢6ting -. would prove seriously'inconvenient or gravely injurious to me. Hence, ,if I were quite sick, and going to the polls would increase my illness, I should be excused from the 163 EDWIN F. HEALY . " Review f.or Religiou~ duty of voting. Even though one's vote would clearly riot affect the course of an election, nevertheless, it is preferable that one go to the polls anyway, in order to give to others the g6od example of taking interest in civic affairs. This, of'course, applies, particularly to persons of authority, whose actions are a guide to many. Besides, my vote is not altogether useless, even if my candidate has no chance of winn';ng the offce, for his. prestige will be increased by each additional vote which he receives. With reference to the duty ofv0ting it should be noted that one' is obliged to vote bonestl~l, that is, he must be guided in his choice of candidate by his genuine desire tO furthe~ the common, welfare. He must select the candidate wh~ is bes~ fitted for the office. The one voted for must l~e qualified to carry .out the requirements of the position sought. It may be that a man is morally blameless, but if he 'is inefficient, inexperienced, dr poorly gifted intellec-tually; his election .would. not be to the best interests of the community. Moreover, one must vote intelligently. He must make sure that he does not waste his vote. A vote is wasted if the ballot is not marked in accordance with the directions given, because such a ballot will be discarded without being counted. An erasure, or blots, or blurs, or -some sign that may be interpreted as a distinguishing, re.ark, . can invalidate the ballot. Writing in ink, instead of pen-cil, marking an "X" outside the prescri.bed box or circle, voting for several candidates for an office when only one may be selected--these are some of the ways in which one can waste his ballot. Not infrequently it happens that the shortcomings of a candidate for some public office are reviewed in detail in newspapers and magazines. The charges made-against candidates by a news organ of an opposing political party are at times very damaging. What is to be said of the moral- 164 Ma~ , 1944 THE QUESTION OF VOTING ity of the practice of exposing the faults and errors of one who is running for a public office~ To call attention to the mistakes and misdeeds ofthe candidates can be a service to the community. The men and women who are seeking publicoffice are thus revealed in their true light, and so the voters are able to judge whether or not the election of such candidates would prove to .be injurious to the common welfare. It is, of course, forbidden to exaggerate a candi-date's deficiencies or to make slanderous statements about him.However, it is altogether licit to mention certain facts in his life: faults, past crimes, evidences of favoritism, dangerous tendencies, examples of inefficiency, ignorance, bigotry, dishonesty, and so forth, when these are of a pub-lic nature. Even hidden crimes or defects may be pub-lished, if these render the candidate unfit for such an office. The reason is dear. Candidates give up their right to keep secret what the common good requires to be known about them. Moreover, those who hold public positions can be said tacitly to consent to the open scrutiny .of their official acts. They are, after all, but the agents of their constitu-ents; hence those whom they represent have the right to demand an acc6unt of their official conduct. The realiza-tion that their actions will thus be analyzed in newspaper and magazine may perhaps exercise a restraining influence against violations of duty. Since, then, writers are allowed. publicly to review the faults and misdeeds of candidates for office, such articles of theirs may be' read without scruple. Not many years ago a certain socialist urged that all nuns be deprived of the right to vote. The argument adduced to justify this recommendation was, we believe, that such women have no interest in civic affairs. In reply to this suggestion it should be made clear that religious men and women, as a rule, have very much at heart the common welfare. Moreover, their interest is not merely an aca- 165 EDWIN F. HEALY demic one, for by their daily lives of prayer and sacrifice and good example they greatly benefit the community in which they live. Because they love their country and ever seek its best interests, they are eager to have only candidates of ability and integrity elected to office. They cast their votes in accord with the dictates of their conscience. Who would deny that their choice at the polls is as carefully considered and as intelligently weighed as that of the average citizen? CONCERNING BOOKLETS The Congregation of Holy Cross is publishing a revised edition ofDirections for Nooitiates of the Congregation of Holy Cross, written in 1895 by the saintly Father Gilbert Francais, Superior General of th~ Congregation from 1893 to 1926. The book contains a simple, fervent set of instructions designed to help novices in the various exercises of the novitiate. Though the book is really the Family Bool~ of the Congregation of Holy Cross, masters and mistresses of novices of other in-stitutes should find it useful. Paper-bound: 182 pages; $I.00. Published by The Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, Indiana. The Holy Cross Brothers publish a very attractive and informative booklet en-titled Holy.Cross Brothers. This booklet may well be held up as a model of clear, simple, verbal instruction on the life of a Brother and of the apt use of photographs to illustrati the text. The Brothers will send a copy to any priest or religious who is interested. ~Write to: Director of Vocations, Sacred Heart ,luniorate, Watertown, Wisconsin; or tb: Direcior of Vocations, St. 2oseph ,luniorate, Valatie, New York. Similar to the booklet on Holy. Cross Brothers is anew brochure, Jesuit Life, prepared by the' Jesuits of the Missouri Province. This province comprizes Colo-rado, Illinois (south and west of Springfield), Iowa, Kansas, Minnesota, Missouri, N. ebrask~, North Dakota, Oklahoma, South Dakota, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. Residents of this territory mas; secure copies bf Jesuit Life free by applying to: Reverend Father Provincial, 4511 West Pine Blvd., St. Louis 8, Missouri. An Army of Peace is the title of an unusual historical pamphlet--"The Story Of the Sisters of Loretto at the Foot of the Cross as told by Modern Youth." This pamphlet was originally planned and written by the American History Class, Loretto Academy, Kansas City_,. Missouri. "1941. Two years later it was revised by the students of Loretto Heights College, Loretto, Colorado. The illustrations (very "cute"--if you don't mind the word) are the combined work of students of Web-ster College, Webster Groves, Missouri. 48 pages. 10 cents each; 11 for $1.00; 50 for $4.25; 100 for $8.00. Order from: Loretto Heights College, Loretto, Colorado~ 166 The C~re 0t: ~ick Religious Adam C. Ellis, S.J. BECAUSE of the regularity of their lives, their simple but wholesome diet, and the peaci~ of mind resulting from serwng God, rehg,ous usua.lly enjoy remark-ably .good health. It ~s mewtable; however, that there be some sick rehg~ous. These should be looked upon.as bles-sings in a community, and they shoulld be given proper care, both physical and spiritual, according to the letter and the spirit of. ecclesiastical legislation. . Phgsicat Careof the Sick ¯ The Code of Canon Law contains nip specific legislation regarding the physical care of. the sick. This is provided for ¯ in ~he constitutions of individual lnst~tutes, ~which in ~turn are based upon the. provisions laid down ~n the Normae issued by the Sacred Congregation of Bi,~hops and Regulars, June 28, 1901. We may, therefore,' tal[e these latter as.the .basis for our remarks:. ¯ . ¯ Art. 183 requires that each religious, house,., as 4:ar.as. possible, shall have a special place for an in~, rmarg. Though it is impracticable in a small communit~ to reserve aplat~ in the :house for occasional sick members, it is customary-to have a well-eqmpped ~nfirmary ~n the motherhouse, ~n the novitiate, in the house of studies, as w~ell as in all larger communities. These places should b~e kept bright and cheery, ~vithout, however, introducin~ luxuries not in keeping with '.religious poverty. - Art. 184 states that one or more re'embers of the com-mun~ tg, should be set aside for the care ]of the sick. These persons should be endou~ed u~itb all tb le qualities necessar~l 167 /~DAM C. I~.LLI$ Review for.Religio~s f~r the proper fulfillment of their office, and should be -noteworthg fo~ their Fraternal charitg. It is their dutg, under, the direction of superiors, to provide For atl.the necessities of their sick charges, with regard to nourishment and other remedies. In modern times no religious institute should find. any difficulty in having one or more of its members trained as .professional nurses. Many of our Catholic hospitals have training schools for nurses, and religious are always wel-come to go there for training in a religious atmosphere. Every large infirmary in a religious house should have its own diet kitchen in which the special dishes required for the si~k may be carefully prepared either by the religious-nurse in charge or by an assistant. We may remark here in passing that it is not contrary to common life to give a special diet in the community refectory to those religious who need it, ~ven though they are well enough to carry on their work. In many com-munities it is customary to l~ave a special table in the refec-to. ry for those who are on diet, thus saving unnecessary steps for those who serve at table. Art. 185 tells that when necessar!l a doctor should be called, and his prescriptions should be FaithFullg carried out. All things considered, the community doctor should be chosen by reason of his understanding of the nature of the religious life in general and of the special work performed by the community in particular. Then he will know more readily the circumstances Of his patient, and will not be inclined to prescribe extraordinary remedies which are . usually available only to the wealthy. Superiors should be generous in providing for the needs of the sick members of their community. It seems to have been a special characteristic of many founders of religious institutes that they were most solicitous for the care of their 168 Mag~ 1944 THE CARE OF SICK RELIGIOUS sick members. Such a tradition should be carefully pre-served. For major operations, as well as for the cure of.certain diseases, it will be advisable to send a religious patient to a hospital. Ordinarily religious should be taken to a Cath-olic hospital where they will .receive the loving care of other religious and will not.be deprived of the religious atmos-phere. Both superiors and religious nurses should be familiar with the laws of the Church regarding exemptions from fast and abstinence, Sunday Mass, and other like matters, so as to be able .to quiet any scruples on the part of their charges. Spiritual Care of the Sick Art 186 of the Norm~e prescribes that the spiritual needs of sick religious should be attended to no less. ear-nestlg than their material needs. The principal :spiritual needs include confession, Communion, and Extreme Unc-tion. On all these matters the Code of Canon Law con-tains some explicit provisions, on Which it may be helpful to make a few comments. Confession: Sick religious should have the opportunity of going to confession whenever the community 'does, that is, weekly to the Ordinary confessor, on occasion to ,the extraordinary confessor, though they should be asked first whether they wish to avail themselves of these opportuni-ties, ,and should not be forced to do so. Special provision is made in canon 523 for religious women who are ill: "'All religious women when seriouslff ill, even if not in danger of death, mag, as ofte/~,as they u3ish during their serious illness; invite an~t priest whatever to hear their confession, provided that he be approved to 169 ADAM (2. ELLIS- Review [or Religious bear the confessions of women, no? can the superioress either directly or indirectly pre~ent them from doing so." It may be well to note that the canon does not require that the religious be in danger of death, but it suffices that she~be seriously ill in order to use the privilege.The judg-ment as to the seriousness of the illness should be left to the doctor or to a competent nurse. The very fact that it is deemed necessa.ry to callo the doctoi would generalIy be a sufficient indication that the illness is serious, since it is not customary for religious to summon a physician for slight ailments. Again, a patient who is running a fe.ver, or who. is obliged to be in bed for a week or more because of illness, would certainly come under the canon. In case of doubt ¯ about the seriousness of the illness, the sick religious should be given the benefit of the doubt. Sick religious on their part should be reasonable. It would hardly be in keeping with the spirit of the law to call for a confessor wholives a long distance away from the community, thus involving expense for the community and .grave inconvenience for the priest in question. It should also be kept in min~l that the 'canon impose~ no special obligation on the priest who i~ called to answer thd summons,.and the sick religious should be patient and resigned if the priest is delayed incoming or does not come at all. 'Holy Communion: Let us. first recall .that the reception of Holy Communion is a privilege and that, while the Church urges her. children,' especially religious, to use this privilege frequently, even daily, still there is no obligation to do so, except during the Paschal. season. Hence a reli-gious, whether sick or. well, who abstains from the recep-tion of Holy Communion, should not be looked upon as singular, This is a matter which is strictly personal, and one which should never be commented upon in commun-ly0 May, 1944 THE .CARE OI~ SICK :RI~LIGIOU$ ity life. As to sick religious, theremay be many reasons w.hy they do not wish to receive Holy Communion on any specified day. Hence the practical rule to be followed is to ask them each evening whether they wish to receive On the following morning or not. They should be given the opportunity of communicating daily Should they wish to do so, but they should ne.ver be made to feel that they are obliged to do so, much iess forced to do so. Dispensation from the Eucharistic Fast. Canon~858 § 2 makes a partial exception to the law of the Eucharistic fast for certain sick persons. "'The sick who. have been .in bed for a month without cet~tain hope of a speedq recooerg maq, with the prudent advice of their confessor, receive Holq Communion once or twicea week, even though theg ma~] have taken medicine or something b~t toag of~.tiquid food beforehand." . The sick who have.beenin bed for a mot~tb. This does not exc!ude:the patient's being able. to. sit up during cer-tain hours of the day. Besides, there are some sick persons who; because Of th~ nature of their infirmity, cannotlie in bed,- b.ut are confined to a chair Or couch. They certainly may use .this privilege. Likewise those sick persons who are able to get up for an hour in. the morning and go :t6 the chapel for.Mass and Holy Communion; may. use the privi-lege. The .canon does n6t require .that they receive.'H61y Communion in bed in order to.use the privilege. " . " It should be noted, however, that this privilege-may not be used until a person has.actually.been ill. for amonth. The opinion of a doctor that the sick person will be in.b~d for more than a month would not justify that person in using the privilege immediately, but he:must .wait until he has bee~a ill for about thirty days. This number of days.is ,to be counted morally, not ma, thematically, It may be difficult to determine exactly the day on wh'ich a person 171 ADAM C. ELI~I8 Review/or Religi~ous became ill. He may have been feeling poorly~ for several days before be went to see the doctor and was ordered to bed. Such days should be counted to make up the month. Without~ certain hope of a spee'dg recoverg. These words exclude mere conjecture or probability. Unless it is certain, therefore, that the person who has been confined to bedby illness f;3r a month will.be well in a very few days, he may use the privilege as long as. his illness lasts. With tb~ prudent advice of theconfessor. ,This does not mean that the confessor grants the privilege of receiving Holy Communion not fasting--the law does that--but it implies .that his judgme.nt may be, required that the sick person is properly disposed. Hence a sick" religious who is mora.lly certain that be is in the state of grace and properly disposed need not ask the permission of his confessor to use the privilege granted by the.law itself. Once ortu;icea vaeek. These words are to be inter-preted strictly. The sick person may use the privilege not more than twice a week. He may use it on any two days of the week, even though on the other days he observes the Eucharistic fast in its entirety and receives Holy Commun-ion. ¯ Medicine or something bg wag of liquid food. The medicine taken may be liquid, or in the form of solids such "as pills, powders, and the like. Any food taken, however, must be in the form of a liquid, that is, it must be of such a nature that it can be drunk. Under this head would come such items as egg-hOg, thin gruel, milk, fruit juices and the like. Religious nurses will do well. to remember that the privilege granted in canon 858 is for all sick persons; not merely for religious. It may be well to mention here that religious who are chrohic invalids and who find it difficult to observe the 172 ' Mag, 1944 -. THE CARE OI~ SICK RELIGIOUS ]~ucharistic fast-either because of physical weakness, ' or because of the'need of taking medicince during the night, can obtain an indult from the Sacred Congregation of Religious to communicate even daily after having taken medicine or liquid food. It will suffice to write a simple letter stating briefly the nature of the disease, and asking for the privilege~ It will help to expedite matters to have the local Ordinary give his approval to the petition. , As for the Last Sacraments, canon 514 provides as fol-lows: "'In every/clerical institute the superiors.have the right and the dutg to administer, either per. sonall[t or bg delegate, the Holg Viaticum and Extreme Unction, in case of sick-ness, to the professed members, to the novices, and to other persons duelling day and night in the religious house reason or: service, education, hospitatitg, or health." In the case of lay institutes, that is, congregations of Brothers and Sisters, this right belongs to the pastor of the parish in which the religious house is located, or to the chaplain designated by the Ordinary to replace the parish priest (canon 514, § 3.). In convents of nuns, the ordi- -nary confessor or his substitute has this same right and duty (canon 514, § 2). Viaticum. Holy Communion is given to the sick by way of ,Viaticum whenever tl~ey are :in danger of death. It may be received daily as long as tha~ danger lasts, and the sick person is exempted from the Eucharistic fast during this time (canons 858 and 864). The opinion of a doctor, or of a competent nurse may be followed regardihg the danger of death. The sick person need not be actually dying, but it suffices that the illness be such that death may be the result of it. Extreme Unction. This sacrament may and should.be administered to the sick who are in danger of death. ~It may be administered only once during the same illness, ADAM C. ELLIS unless ,the sick person shall have recovered, and again fallen into danger of death (canon 940). Again the. prudent judgment of the physician or a capable nurse should.be fol-lowed both ~as regards the danger of death and subsequent recovery. The administration of Extreme Unction should not be put~off until the patient is actually dying, but should be " administered while the patient is in full possession of his senses. Sick persons, including religious, should be in-structed regarding the secondary effects of this sacrament, one of which is the recovery of health, if such be the will of God. Conclusion It will not be out of place here to urge religious supe-riors and those who have the care of sick religious entrusted to them to do all in their power to care for the material and spiritual needs of the sick. Let them, in thei~ charity, .use measures to prevent, as far .as possible, the beginnings Of sickness, by not overburdening their subjects, by supply-ing them with a sufficiency of good wholesome food, and by providing proper relaxation and recreation within the .bounds of religious propriety. In this connection religious superiors must learn to say "NO" to the .many demands put upon them f(~r.help or work which they cannot undertake without putting too great a strain upon a commun~ity which may be already. .overburdened. They will serve the best interests of the Church and of their own institutes by refusing such work until .they have a sufficient number of subjects properly trained both intellectually-and religiously to undertake such additional burdens. 174 ~ ¯ We, Salu!:e Thee, Mary, h ot:her God! William 13. Faherty, S.J. NO ONE has ever had the persevering energy to list all the titles of Mary. Each country, yes, almost every Catholic locality, has its own beautiful manner of invoking our lovely Lady. In the Litany of Lotetto alone we. appeal to her in over forty ways. Some titles, such as the Blessed Virgin, have universal esteem. Others possess only local popularity] Of all the loving appellativ~s by which her devoted fol-lowers call on Joachim's daughter, the .greatest is "Mother of God." So astounding is it to address a human being in this manner, that we might hesitate to. employ it, were it not revealed doctrine, its use sanctioned by. the Church. In the May 1943 number of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Father Aloysius Kemper, S.J., analyzed the doctrine of the Divine Maternity. The interesting controversy .that led to its sanction is the theme of this article. The antagonists in this case Were two leading bishops, Nestorius of Constantinople, and St. Cyril of Alexandria. Dispute and discussion of a controverted point of doctrine not infrequently lead to its settlement by conciliar defini-tion. So it was in this matter. .The Council of Ephesus (431) settled the question. But that is running ahead of the story . The Fifth-Century World . Accustomed as we are, in this modern era, to think.of the e.astern shore of the Mediterranean as non-Catholic . territory, we find it difficult to visualize the fi'fth-centur7 setting. Constantinople was the center 6f the Empire, not 175. W. B. FAHERTY Revie~u [o~ Religious Rome, so recently sacked by Alaric and his Visigoths. Not Italy, or Spain, or France, but the Province of Asia on the XVest coast, of modern Turkey was the most Christian sec-tion of the Mediterranean world. St. Patrick was just then preparing .for his missionary trip to Ireland. The great St: Augustine of Hippo was in his last years~ So much for the scene, now what about the Drarnatis Personae? Into the easiern capital as its patriarch came Nestorius, a priest of Antiokh, who soon became known for his zeal-ous hounding of heretics. Worried over'the danger of polytheism, still so strong in the pagan parts of the Empire, as well as over an error concerning Christ's humanity taught by~ a priest, Apollinaris, Nestorius leaned backward in regard to the doctrine of the Divine Maternity. Against him stood St. Cyril, the Patriarch of Alexan-dria, rugged as Gibraltar, a man renowned for the strong virtues of John the Baptist rather than for the gentle quali-ties of dohn the Evangelist. Far away, at Rome, Pope Celestine odcupied the Chair of St. Peter . Theological WarFare The first barrage of battle came when the priest, Anasta, sius, a protegi of the Phtriarch of Constantinople, preached against the use of the extremely popular title for Mary, Tbeotokos (God-bearing). Call her merely Christ-otokos (Christ-bearing), he ordered. Consternation spread arnbng the-Constantinopolitans, for this title, Tbeotokos, had been indaily use for over a hundred years. Almost everyone in the audience had been familiar with it .from ehrliest childhood. The people were.gripped by a dismay and bewilder-ment almostinconceivable to us who live in a milieu that 176 May, 1944 WE SALUTE THEE, MARY, MOTHER OF GOD tends to take doctrinal differences as easily as the changes of the ieasons. Nestorius answered ?omplaints with excom-munication and imprisonment, then mounted the pulpit and bulwarked Anastasius' position. The Patriarch. of the Eastern Capital had flung down the gauntlet. Proclus, the bishop-elect of Cyzicus, a lesser name in this theological battle, accepted. the challenge. Despite the presence of Nestorius in the audience, he rose to the defence of the popular opinion. The Patriarch coun-ter- attacked with a whole series of sermons. Not along the shores ,of the Golden Horn alone, but throughout the East, news of these teachings spread. Across the blue Mediterranean they carried, like the sails of the Phoenicians, to the ancient land of the Pharaohs. St. Cyril rose to the defence of the tiaditional opinion with several letters. First to his own people, then to the monks of Egypt, he gave the true explanation of the Incarnation. He -mapped out a detailed counter-offensive against Nestorius. Two letters to that Patriarch complained of the teaching that had thrown the faithful throughout the East into war-time excitement. Availing nothing by this, Cyril referred the matter to Rome. He sent to the Holy See his correspondence w.ith Nestorius, a collection of the con-tagion- filled sermons, and a work of his own just com-pleted. ¯ A local council, convoked at Rome by Pope Celestine in the .summer of 430, condemned Nestorius. Early in August the Pope commissioned St. Cyril to carry out the condemnation, giving the Patriarch of Constantinople only ten days to retract 'his false teaching. Celestine wrote similar letters to Nestorius himself, to the clergy and people of Constantinople, and to John, the Patriarch of Antioch. The last paragraph of the Pope's authoritative letter to Nestorius is a good.summary of the whole epistle. "You 177 W. B. FAHERTY Review t~or Religious know clearly.out opinion. Unless you preach concerning Chris.t, our God, those things which the Roman ChUrch, the Alexandrian Church,-and. the whole, Catholic Church teach~s, and the most holy. Church of the Cityof Con-stantinople held up to the present, and you separate your-self from that foul novelty as the Scripture enjoins, and condemn it in a written profession within ten days from the day on which you are aware of this. sentence, you will be expelled .from the communion of thewhole Catholic Church" (Mansi, IV, 103~4.35). ~ ~ This was a lightning attack on Nestorius. He was condemned and his rival .was chosen to. give the coupde-grace. What would he do? The cornered Constantino-politan parried the thrust with an. evasive reply and.-a promise to abide by the decision of the general council he had asked the Pope to convene. The Anatbematisms Cyril. was busy, tOO, preparing.the death blow. He drew?. UP twelve statements, called "The:.Anathematisms,'." to which,Nestorius was asked to.subscribe. Though these , ~ere couched in sucha way as tO make evasion impossible, they contained, certain difficulties of terminology. What Cyril understood to mean:-one thing, Nestorius interpreted-in a way that bordered on the false teaching of Apollinaris. So, .,instead of submitting, he issued, twelve, counter-anathematisms, John of Antiocia now stood With Nes-torius. Other bishops of the region of Antioch a.ttacked the twelve statements of Cyril, especially the third, which seemed to teach only one nature in Christ. When everyone seemed, drugged-with anathematisms; the Emperor Theodosius II con, yoked a general council to be, held at Epl~esus in Asia Minor, on Pentecost Day,~' June 7, 431. Ma~t, 1944 WE SALUTE THEE, ~ICIARY, MOTHER OF. GOD Ephesus is today a miserable village on the-west coast of Turkey, not far from the Italian naval base at Rhodes. But in Roman times, it bore the pr6ud sobriquet, "The Torch of Asia." One of the chief ports of. the Levant, it was the center of the cult of Diana in the days of St. Paul. Recall the riot recorded in the Acts, when the streets rang with the cry, "Great is Diana of the Ephesians." From a pagan stronghold it became by the third cen-tury a populous Christian city. Here St. ,John lived in later life. Here sprang up a great devotion to the Mother of God, supplanting the worship of the pagan goddess. To the main church of the city, dedicated to Mary, the bishops were making their way in the spring Of 431. The Council Convenes Since the Antiochean prelates had not arrived by June 7th, the opening of the Council was delayed. On ~he 22nd Cyril opened it, though the Papal Legate and the Patriarch of Antioch were still on the way. This seemed a high-handed act on the Alexandrian's part, for he had no com-mission to preside over the Council. Perhaps he extended hi~ powers as commissary in the indictment of Nestorius. The Acts of the Council record that two bishops, both bearing the name of Alexander, one from Apamea, the other from Hierapolis, had come from John of Antioch to tell Cyril to wait no longer. Yet these same two, along with sixty-six others, personally voted against the opening of the Council in the absence of the Syrian bishops. Nes-torius refused to recognize the jurisdiction of this incom2 plete number, and consequently would, not appear or put in any defence. Yet the first, meeting was held. A crowd of Ephesians g~ithered outside the Church of Mary as the sessions opened. Would Nestorius be con-demned? Would the popular app+llation of the Virgin be 179 W. 'B. FAHERTY '~: ' approv~O.~"~ C~rril, ,whom the Acts Of the Council describe as ".holding the.place of the most holy Celestine, Bishop of the Roman Church" (Mansi, IV, 1123);. presided when the ~ase of Nestorius was discussed. Various pertinent docu-ments were read, and a vote taken.'One hundred and ninety-eigh.t bishops subscribed to the condemnation. The setting sun, had reddened the waters of the Ionian Sea and the quiet .of evening wrapped the city be'fore the first long sessi6n was over. When the bishops filed from the Church, the word of the condemnation spread lik~ elm leaves in autumn among the expectant multitude. Where once rang the ~ry, "Great is Diana of the Ephesians," the shouts of "Theotokos, Theotokos" reechoed in honor of Mary, the Mother of God. With a thousand flaming torches, the Ephesians led the Fathers of the Council in tri-umph back to their temporary residences. A few.days later the papal legates arrived with a defini-tive letter from Celestine. The assembled prelates Were merely to promulgate the decision already made against Nestorius and make it universal. In the third session (2uly lst)the Roman legates confirmed the measures taken. With this the doctrinal work of the Council was a.lmost at an end. ¯ Several trying weeks, were to elapse before the adjournment.-During this interval Cyril preached the sermon in which he spoke the words of our title. Nestorius was deposed from his see in October of the same year, and a moderate prelate, Maximinian, succeeded him. Thus e~ded the Theotokos cgntroversy. For all time it was settled that the universal brotherhood of the-Chris-tian people could salute Mary as the Mother of God. 18o Who Is This Rodriguez? Augustine Klaas, S.J. AUGUSTA Theodosia Drane, the future Mother Francis Raphael, gifted writer and Provincial of the Dominican co.mmunity of Stone, England, tells in her memoirs of her first meeting with Rodriguez. She was about twenty-five at the time and still an Anglichfi. "One day in Mr. Maskell's library I stumbled on three volumes in dark green cloth, the title of which took mY fancy 'Religio.us Perfection.' I carried them ~0ff. It was Rodriguez. A girl of sixteen reading .the Waverley novels for the first time would be a feeble comparison. Better was .this than any conceivable novel, for here at last I found reality. It was precisely what I wanted, what I had always felt the want of: and I Used to cry out, 'Oh if I had only had this bbok at fiftee.n, what a different being I should have been!'~.Imp°ssi'ble not. to be a glutton over these books. I read them by davy; I'read them by night; I read them aloud to my sister, who .was vexed with my enthusi-asm and did not relish the Fathers of the Desert; and When she objected, I walked down to Petit Tot and read them there. I went right through them in a week, and then I be-gan again, and went right through them a second time. If I ever hear depreciating remarks about Rodriguez, as if he were an old fogy, I feel as if I could slay anyone who does not lo;~e him as I do! I think he saved my faith." (A Mere-. oir; edited by Bertrand Wilberforce, O.P., p. 51.) Most religious, perhaps, have not felt the initial impact of Rodriguez' spiritual classic quite so acu(ely as this Angli~ can young lady. At least they have not expressed .them-selves nearly so enthusiastically. Yet, it must be admitted 181 AUGUSTINE KLAA$ that the work of Father Rod/iguez is one of the all-time spiritual best-sellers, and certainly, after "the Spiritual Exercises,;. the most influential spiritual book written by a Jesuit. It has formed and molded tens of thousands df ~eligious, priests, and layfolk for three hundred years and in importance has been placed by discerning critics immedi-ately after the Imitation of Christ, alongside such notable works'as Scupoli's Spiritual Combat and'Francis de Sales'. Introduction to a Devout Life. Pius XI in 1924 addressed to the major superiors of all religious orders and congrega-tions of men an Apostolic Lette.r, in which referring to the training of novices, he says: "Most useful to read through and study will be the writings of Saint Bernard, and of the Seraphic Doctor Bonaventure, as also of Alphonsus Rodriguez . Their power and efficacy, far from failing and being weakened by lapse of time, seem today rather to have increased." (AAS, XVI, p. 142) Who, then, is this Rodriguez? : The Man Alphonsus Rodriguez, unfortunately, has always suf- ¯ feted from the petty annoyance of mistaken identity. And no wonder, since some thirty-five Jesuit writers bear the name of Rodkiguez, four of these prefixing Alphonsus. 'Most frequently he is confused with the Jesuit lay-brother, Saint Alphonsus Rodriguez, who was his contemporary and also a spiritual writer. It is worthwhile, therefore, to set things right by sketching the main events of his life, about-which there is almost nothing in English, and also to add a few interesting details about his great spiritual book. For an account of his early year~', two documents, signed by himself, are of special value. The first is a statement 1~82 Ma~ , ! 944 " " WHO I8 THIS RODRIGUEZ? written by him in the third :person when he was received.:.as. a Jesuit novice in Salamanca:- "He was examined by Father Rector, July 141 1557. Native of--Valladolid, 19 years old, son of Doctor.Rodri-guez and. I)ofia Maria Garcia; a student, has done two years of theology; has profited, greatly from his studies. Signed: Gonzfilez Alonso .Rodrlguez. J In the margin occur these words: "He has.received the tonsure." ¯-Four and a half years later, in January 1562, Alphon-sus, then a Scholastic, filled out-a questionnaire for the Jesuit Visitor from Rome,. Father Jerome Nadal, in which¯ he gives us acandid.portrait of himself (Monttrn.entaS.d.; Nadal, Tome. II, pp. 532-533) : " "My name¯is Alonso Rodriguez. -- Three months from now I shall have completed my 24th year.x , -- I am from old Castile.and V-alladolid. m My parents-are living: -- They have sufficient to support them. --. I have two sisters who are nuns, and four brothers: one.is a monk, another is a priest. , the other two have. almost nothing~ except what their parents may leave them .,. neither is married. " -- I have no debts or obligations, .excepta half-real. which I found and. though knowing to whom it belonged, I did not return it ;.now I have nothing, and even. if I had anything, it seems I could not return it.-- In the world I was devout and given to prayer and almsgiving; and so I prayed a lot, but I did not often frequent the.sacra:. ments, nor did I know anything about mental prayer.-,- I made a vow to be a religious or a monk " On account: of my vow and desire to serve God, .I entered the Company without any consolations., four and a half years ago . . ~ It is a year and a half since I took the vows. ~ Once I XHence, Alphonsus Rodriguez was born in 1538, and, not in 1526, as is stated in Father Rickaby's English edition and elsewhere.' 183 AUGUSTINE KLA~$ Review/or Religious made:the exercises of the First Week for eight or~ nine days. -- I have served in the lowest'offices of the house, made a pilgrimage, served" in hospitals., taughtcatechism. - "I desire to persevere until death in the Company and, with the grace of the Lord, to Obey in all things, no matter how difficult and hard they may be, and to keep the rules very perfectly,, as something in which my perfection con-sists. I desire very much to undergo all the mortifications and experiments of the Company, as though I had just recently entered it, and I desire my superiors ~to take great care to mortify me, because I need it very much, since I am very remiss in mortifying myself . On the other hand, Our Lord gives me promptness to obey in all things . . . Particulaily do I wish to be instructed in prayer .(about whichI am very ignorant) in order to know how to make further progress. -- Wherever the greater service of God our Lord may be, thither am I inclined to go; even though it be to the confines of the earth, I shall go there with good will; and I desire to be able and capable of undeitaking difficult and great things with the div.lne favor. -- Sala-manca, January 15, 1562. Alonso." ¯ Questioned about his studies, he adds: "I have studied thirteen years: five of grammar and three of arts in Valla-dolid, and am now studying theology for the fifth year in Salamanca. I have been thought to be very healthy through-out my studies. I have an inclination for studies, and especially, for theology. But I have little talent for them, especially for metaphysics. Memory is poor and intelli-gence likewise. I know very little about anything, but it seems I know more theology than anything else. I am a bachelor of arts." Obviously Alphonsus.was a young man of high Spir-itual objectives coupled with a humble estimate of him-self. This depreciating inventory of his talents and virtues, .184 May, 1944 WHO Is THIS RODRIGUEZ? however, was not accepted by his. superiors, for after his studies and ordination to the priesthood he was immedi-ately made master of novices in Salamanca at the precocious age of twenty-five. And the records of the time note also that he was "very skillful in solving cases of conscience:" Three years, later, in 1~566, Father Rodriguez left the novitiate at Salamanca for the joint college and seminary at M0nterrey in Galicia, where he taught moral theology in the seminary. Certain little moral treatises written during this period were highly esteemed by Father Thomas San-cbez, the distinguished Jesuit moralist, who made use of " them in his own writings. R.odriguez wasalso rector of this institution of some eight hundred students for six years (1570-1576), and, despite his many duties as rector and professor, f?equently preached "with some ability," heard confessions, and taught catechism in the town's ¯ environs. In 15 79 we find him. in his native cit.y of Valla-do! id, engaged in the Works of the ministry and solving cases of conscience. He remained there for six years. In 1585, by special Order of Acquaviva, the Father General, Rodriguez was sent from his own province Of Castile to that of Andalusia"to be rector and mas[er of novices at the famous college and novi'tiate of .Montilla. He was sent as a troubleshooter to solve some peculiar diffi-culties ~involving the training of young religious. His own provincial superior, Father Villalba, was loath to let.him- .go! "In very few men are so many qualities found together: It is truly a considerable loss for our province. He is very learned, an excellent religious, and made for training young religious in spiritual life and devotion. Of that we have no less need in Castile than in Andalusia." (Astrain, Historia IV, p. 745) On the otherhand, the success of his work at Montilla can be gaged from a letter written two years later to the 185 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Review /:or Religious General by the Andalusian Provincial, Father Gil Gonz.~- lez Dfivila: "One finds there the true formation of the Company and the real way. of training novices . Those who come from" it live according to the true religious spirit, the spirit, of obedience and abnegation, and are. distin-guished for these virtues? To my mind, the best present that Your Paternity has made tb our province . has been to call to it Father Alphonsus Rodriguez; and I hope that if the Fathers of the. third probation pass through his hands, the fruit will be still more precious . '~ (Astrain, ibid, IV, p. 745) Another n~ark of confidence was shown ¯ him when he was chosen to represent the Andalusian prov-ince at the Fifth General' Congregation of his order, held in Rome in 1593. This Congreg.ation put an end to those internal difficulties of the Spanish Jesuit provinces-for .the solution of which Father Rodriguez had labored with such consummate prudence and ability. Five years later Rodriguez left Montilla, having been appointed a general inspector of the Jesuit-establlshments in the province of Andalusia. That done, he.was in Cor-dova the following year, hearing .confessions and giving retreats, and there he remained for eight years, until 1607, when at the age of sixty-nine he once more took up his old duties as master of novices, this time in Seville, and added to them the duties of spiritual father of the community. This was to be his last appointment. During the final two years of his life he was plagued with ill-health and the infirmities of age, so.much so that he could no longer offer up the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Then, on-February 21, 1616, "after having received all the sacraments with full consciousness and with such serenity that he seemed rather to sleep than to die," he quietly passed away at the goodly age of sev2 enty-seven years and ten months. Father Alphonsus Rodriguez was an exceptionally 186 .7 May, ,1944 WHO IS THIS RODRIGUEZ? well-balanced character--not brilliant, but prudent, reli-. able, and stead~: Father Nieremberg, who knewhim well, describes him as "affable, thoroughly saturated with the charity of Christ, without a trace of bitterness or sadness; a faint, gentle smile on his countenance." He was much given to' prayerful retirement and perhaps for that reason was som. ewhat timid in meeting externs, He was notwhat we call today "a contact man." "I do nol~ know how to dea! or observe the amenities with e~:terr~s, as my duties demand," he wrote humbly to the General. And Father. GonzMez, the Andalusian P~ovincial, mentions in an offi, cial letter the ."timidity of the superior'.' and ',his emba'~- rassed mannerisms," but adds that this difficulty can be remedie~d by having recourse to ~ther Fathers--and he might have added that the suppl3; of such is usually plen-tifui. : Nevertheless, despite this annoying h~indicap, he was a capable superior, demanding an exact account of what was being done and giving orders so precise that "he seemed. thoroughly attentive to each detail withoutany distrac-tion." His decisions once understood and their carrying out assured, he gave himself heart and soul to the spiritual direction of his novices and subjects. Here he was the mast ter perfectly at ease. In an unobtrusive way, he was a man of constant prayer, mortification, and meticulous observance of rule. When h~ was told that his austerities might shorten his life, he made the disconcerting, but very discerning reply, "An unmortified religious man. is already dead." His own religious brethren do not seem to have been too much aware of his more than ordinary sanctity, for when the 3esuits of Madrid were officially proposing to a certain prelate of the Rota the beatification of Rodriguez' fellow-townsman and contemporary, Father Luis de la Puente, the great author-° 187 AUGUSTINE KLAAS "." Review [or Religious ity on prayer, the prelate exclaimed: "Good! but why not make the same recommendation for the saintly Father Alphonsus Rodriguez ?" His Book At what period of l~is life did Father Rodriguez write his Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues? The bulk of it was written and delivered as exhortations during the thirteen years he was master of novices at Montilla. 'At the bidding of superiors, he arranged the material and improved it during his stay at Cordova, and finally published the first edition in 1609 and the second in 1611 at Seville. ~During the last year of his life, though suffering greatly -from his infirmities, he revised the whole work for a third edition. :. When he was informed on th~ Feast of the Puri-fication, 1616, that the printing of it was completed, he folded his hands and said. cheerfully, "Now thou dost dis- .miss thy servant, O Lord, according to thy word in peace" .(Luke 2:29). Two weeks later he was dead. The book has gone through more than fifty editions in Spanish, and has been translated in.to at least twenty lan-guages, including Arabian, Tamil, and Chinese. Among the French translations we find one made by the Jansenists in 1673, in which the.y secretly inserted their erroneous doc-trines on grace. ¯ The first English version was ¯published between 1697 and~ 1699, the translator being none other than Sir John Warner, Baronet, of Parham in S{affolk, otherwise known as Father John Clare, S.J. He is an interesting pe.rsonage. With his young wife he was converted to the true faith and both decided to become religious. She became Sister Clare of the Poor Clares of Gravelines; he.became a Jesuit. They made their solemn profession on the same day, August 15, 1667. Subsequently he became procurator, and later 188 Ma~l, 1944 WHO IS THIS RODR~GUEZ? provincial of the English Pro;cince, but spent most of his life as master of novices and spiritual father at the English novitiate at Warren, Belgium. It was there towards ~he end of his life that he made his translation through the medium of the French version of Abb~ Regnier des Marais,. and saw it through the nearby press of St. Omers. Father Joseph. Rickaby, S.J., the most recent English translator, made some use of it, for he notes in.his preface: "it has cost the present translator a world of toil and trouble. In my veneration for the quaint old seventeenth century version, still read amongst~ us, I endeavored to base my work upon that, instead of doing what I was ultimately forced to do, translating straight from the" Spanish." Practice of Perfection .and Christian Virtues is prima-. rily and .almost exclusively an ascetical, not a mystical work. To criticize it unfavorably, as some have done in recent years; for not discussing mystical prayer at length is unfair. Such was not the purpose of the book. Its author's principal aim was the training of young religious; accordingly, being a man of prudence and common sense, and a go6d pedagogue, too, Rodriguez adapted his teaching on higher prayer to the limited capacity of his disciples, who were mostly beginners in the spiritual life. He is not "anti-mystical.''~ The work deals not so much with the theory of asceti-dism as with its practice. The author.says that he.put the. word Practice in the title because "things are treated in it ih such a .way as may render their practice, very easy." Nor is the subject-matter discussed comprehensively in all its details: "I have laid before" you, as clearly and briefly as I was able, such things as are more essential and more corn- 2To cite but one eminent authority: Father Herbert Thnrston writes in The Month (Vol. 154~ p. 425) : "There can be no question that Father Rodriguez recognized and extolled the higher prayer." Cf. Rodriguez, Practice Vol. 1, pp. 254, 255, 262. 189 AUGUSTINEKLAAS " Revle~v for Religious mort to our profession." However, this practical, limited scope does not on .that account place his spirituality on a low plane. Rodriguez seeks to lead religious.to the highest sanctity by faithfulness to duty in little things, byperfect performance of ordinary adtions, by unremitting purity of intention, by habitual and ever closer conformity to the will of.God. He endeavors to form religious of sustained prayer, m6rtification, apostolic zeal, °and all the virtues; and he points to the loftiest exemplars, Christ and His saints, for "to attain to perfection, one must fix his eyes on what is highest and most excellent." And who will say that he has not succeeded? ¯ The principal sources of Rodriguez' doctrine are Holy Scripture, the Fathers of the Church, and the great spir-i. tual masters of the.past, with a particular pr, edi!ection for those stal~carts, .the religious of the desert. Among the ¯ most frequently .cited authorities are Saint Augustine (271 .times), Saint Bernard (2.5.8 times), Saint Thomas Aquinas (86 times),., and Cassian. ~is. .p.Huries . Ccoasmtilpiaons aitnido nab iosv de ethaer .oa.nrddi n.amrYet~h .0i.dni lcia.t!e:r ahriys~la mnegruita,ge ~hough somewhat .prolix. He has imagination and a ,ki, ndly humor--'.'pepper and¯salt," as one.writer says. For examp!e~ he says that a religious who jumps h, astily a.nd light!y from virtue to x~!rtue is "likd a cat w.~lking on hot coals." I.n addition, all will agree that Rodriguez has an indefinable unctionall his own. " 0fcourse, A!phonsus Rodriguez is. by. no means the perfect author. In his knowledge of things scientifiC, his-torical, and hagiographical, he is a man of his times. He considers certain apocryphal works authentic; too often he copies his sources at second hand; he draws ~considerably on the uiapublished exhortations of his Provincial, Father Gon-zfilez D~ivila, without giving him due credit. A few points 190 Ma~t, 1944 WHO IS THIS RODRIGUEZ? of his doctrine can be legitimately contested and evem impugned. Some of his examples and anecdotes are con-sidered today to be lacking in good taste: many'of, these have been excised in recent editions. But, after all, these. are only minor flaws in an author whose work is a master-piece of spiritual writing, that has successful"ly stood the test of time, and that even.with readers who are more than" ordinarily critical and exacting. It is today the most widely used spiritual textbook .of religious .the world over. A definitive critical edition would indeed be Very Welcome: Many witnesses could be Cited to proire the value and popularity of Rodriguez. Forexample, Father Faber calls the book "an inestimable treasure of the Church." Found-ers and foundresses of religious congregations have been especially lavish in their praises. Our own Mother.Chbrini drew up a list of five books as constituting a sufficient, spir-itual library for her congregation. They are: the Imitation ¯ of Christ, the St~irituat Exercises; the Religious in Solitude Of Father Pinamonti, S.&, the :Bride o[ Christ Of Saifit Alphonsus Liguori, and thePractice of-AlphonsusR0dl!- guez. Saint Alphonsus. Liguori and Saint John. E~dgs. often recommended~ the. Practice. Let Saint Vincent de Paul; the founder of the Lazarists, be our last witness.~, In an instruction to his.religious icongregation dated May: 17, t 658, accompanying the book of Rules he was sendiiig,: he exclaims: "'O Lord, who hast bestowed such blessings~ .on .many books, for example, on the"one we are now re, adihg - at table, so that well-prepared souls migh~ reap .therefrom considerable fruit, in order to free themselves from their faults and go forward in perfection, grant, O Lord,. th) blessing on this our little book . " Father Pierre Coste, the saint's official biographer, says that the book being read at table was none other than the Practice of Per-fection and Christian Virtues by Alphonsus Rodriguez. 191 Two Hymns t:o Mary Francis N. Korth, S.J. SEVERAL mon.ths a'go a reader of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS'wrote to the editors for information concerning a hymn beginning with the words, "Te Matrem." As the editors had no definite information to offer, they addressed the question to the other readers (cf. Vol. III, p. 70). In answer to this request a large number of letters w~re received. These letters carried a great deal of interesting information concerning two hymns to Mary, Te Matrem Dei Lau-damus and Te Mariam Laudamus. The present writer has collated the' information and digested it into the following paragraphs. The hymn Te Matrem Dei Laudamus, often referred to as the "Canticum. S. Bonaventurae," adapts the canticle Te Deurn to the praise of Mary. It is usually printed at the end of five psalms in honor of the Blessed Virgin Mary, each of which begins with a different letter of the word "Maria." St. Alphonsus Liguori, busy as he was, frequently said these five psalms. For several centuries after the death " of St. Bonaventure (1274), the great 'Franciscan theologian' 'and Doctor of the Church, the Te Matrern was attributed to him. It is found in the early editions of his Opera Omnia, either as a separate canticle or as part of the" Psalterium Majus B.V.M: It is not found, however, in the latest and most critical edition (the Qu~racchi edi-tion) Of St. Bonaventure's worksY Fr.Gallus Haselbeck, O.F.M.,in his Seraphiscbe Marienrninne remarks in substance that, while St. Bona-venture wrote poetical works, there is no poem on the Blessed Virgi.n that can really be proved to be ~is work. (See also J.H. Sbaralea, 8upplementum et Castigatio ad Scriptores Triurn Ordinurn S. Fran-cisci,' Romae, Editore Nardecchia, 1908, Pars. I, p. 1640 It seems that the Te Matrein Dei Laudamus was composed for the Great Office of the Blessed Virgin. This Office never gained uni-versal "recognition and has not become a part of the' Liturgy of the Church. However, the Te Matrem itself has'been used extensively at various times for p.ublic and private devotion. Venerable Vincent Pallotti, founder of ~the Pious Society of' Missions, propagated it through his books and.used it for May devotions. Several of our corkespondents told us about anothe'r hymn, Te Mariara Laudamus, similar to the Te Matrem. The Te Matrera 192 1944 Two HYMNS TO MARY has 44, 45, and 46 verses respectively in the three available Latin versions (all have the same thoughts with a few divergent verse-arrangements) and 43 verses in the two Engli.~h translations at hand.1 This hymn (the Te Matrem) is an almost literal transposi-tion of the thought of the Te Deum, with the exception of 14 extra vers~s (all beginning with "Tu" in the appended Latin text) inserted in the middle of the canticle. Aside from this inseition, the Te M~trern is a closer parallel'of the Te Deum than is the Te Mariam. The latter, however, with its 30 verses in the Latin (29 in the Eng-lish), comes closer to the length of the T'e Deum. Might this prac-tical identity in length have been the reason for the origin of the Te Mariam? At any rate we are told by one reader .that the Te Mariam is an abridgement of a much longer hymn (the Te Matrem) attributed to 8S. Augustine, ~Ambrose, and-Bonaventure in $chiitz, Su'mma Mariana, IL 310. Father William d. Chaminade,~Founder of the Society of Mary, included the Te Mariam in the Manual of the Servant of Mar~/, a book of prayers and hymns which he corn-- piled for the godalities of the Immaculate Conception at Bordeaux, France. This M~nual was printed in 1820 or earlier. In a copy of the Manual it is stated that Father Chaminade took the Te Mariam from one of the then current. French Antiphonaries. Anotl~er cor-respondent writes that "the Te Mariam is sung in places of pilgrim-age of the B.V.M., at least in some basilicas or places of pilgrimage in France." The Te Mariam is found in the Formular!l of the Society~ of Mary. Separate leaflets are printed at Maryhurst Normal, Kirk-wood, Missouri. At Marynook Novitiate (Society of Mary), Galesville, Wisconsin, "they also have the melody: it is really the . melody of the Te Deum laudamus adapted to the words and phrases of this Marian hymn." A variation of the Te Mariam can be found in The Reign of Jesus through Mary---On True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin according to Blessed Grignion de Montfort, Founder of the Com-pany of Mary. This book, composed in, French by Father G. Denis, S.M.M., was translated into English by'.Father A. Somers, S.M.M., and published in 1926 by Burns, Oates, and Washbourne, ,London, England. To conclude briefl~r: the Te Matrem dates back to the thirteenth 1A version of the Te Matrem under the heading, "CaCti urn Sancti Bonaventurae.". was copied thirty years ago from a Latin bo6k in honor of our Lady; the copyist tells us it has 48 verses. 193. FRANCIS N. KORTH, S,J. Review for Religiot:s century at least;, its authorship is unknown. It is not part of. the liturgy of the Church, but has been used for public and private devo-tions by various groups. A similar but shorter hymn, Te Mariara, has been in use since at least the early part of the nineteenth century. Te Matrem Te Matrem Dei laudamus: Te Mariam Virginem profitemur. Te" aeterni Patris Filiam: omnis terra veneratur. Tibi omnes Angeli et Archangeli: Tibi Throni et Principatus fideliter deserviunt. Tibi omnes Potestates et omnes Virtutes coeli coelorum: et universae Dominationes obediunt. Tibi omnes Chori: Tibi Cherubim et Seraphim exultantes assistu'nt. Tibi .omnis angelica creatura inces-sabili voce proclamant: Sancta, Sancta, Sancta Maria Dei Genitrix, Mater et Virgo. Pleni sunt coeli et terra: maiestatis gloriae fructus ventris tui. Te gloriosus Apo~tolorum chorus: ¯ sui Creatoris Matrem collaudat. T~ beatorum Martyrum coetus cahdi-datus: Christi Genitricem glori-ficat. Te gloriosus Confessorum exercitus: Trinitatis .Templum appellat. Te sanctarum Virginum" chorea amabi- 'lis:. k, irginitatis et humilitatis ex-emplum praedicat. Te tota coelestis curia: Reginam honorat. Te per universum orbem Ecclesia invocando concelebrat: Matrem divinae Maiestatis. Venerandam te veram Regis c6elestis puerperam: sanctam quoque dul-cem et piam. Tu Angelorum Domina: Tu Paradisi Ianua. Tu Scala: regni coelestis et gloriae. Tu Thalamus: Tu Arca pietatis et gratiae. We praise thee, 0 Mother of God: and hail thee, Mary, ever Virgin. The whole world venerates thee: as daughter of the eternal Father. Angels and Archangels, Thrones and Principalities: faithfully serve thee. All Powers and Virtues of heaven: all Dominations obey thee. Before thee all the angelic choirs: the Cherubim and Seraphim wait on thee with exultation. With unceasing voice all angelic crea-tures proclaim thee: Holy, Holy, Holy Mary, Mother of God. Mother and Virgin. The heavens and the earth are full: of the glorious majesty of thy Son. With One voice the" ~lorious choir of Apostles: praises thee as the Mdther . of their Creator. T.he white-robed host of' martyrs: glori-fies thee. as the Mother of Christ. The glorious army of Confessors: names thee the Temple of the Trinity. The lovely company of holy Virgins: prolaims thee as the model of virginity and humility. The entire heavenly court honors thee as Queen. Throughout the entire world ~he Church pays honor by invoking thee: as the Mother of Divine Majesty, Venerating thee as the true "mdther "of ¯ the Heavenl~ King: holy, sweet~ ~ind loving. Thou art the Queen of Angdls: and the Portal of Paradise. Thou art the Guide: to the Heavenly Kingdom and its glory. Thou art the bridal chamber and the covenant of mildness and grace. 194 May, 1944 Two HYMNS TO MARY Tu Vena misericordiae: Tu Sponsa, et Mater¯Regis aeterni. Tu Templum et Sacrarium Spiritus Sancti: totius Beatissimae Trini-tatis nobile. Triclinium. Tu Mediatrix Dei et hominum:. Ama-trix mortalium, coelestis IIlumina- ¯ trix. Thou art the Channel of Mercy:" Spouse and Mother bf the eternal King. Thou art the temple and shrine of the Holy.-Ghost: the tabernacle of the Most Blessed Trinity. Mediatrix between God and man: lovei of mortals, our heavenly enlightener. Tu Agonizatrix pugnantium. Advocata." Thou art the Inspirer of warriors: pauperum: Miseratrix et Refugium peccatorum. Tu Erogatrix munerum: Superatrix ac Terror daemonum, et superborum. Tu.mundi Domina, C6eli Regina: post Deum sola spes~:nostra. Tu Salus Te invocantium, Portus naufragantium: miserorum Sola-tium, pereuntium Refugium. Tu Mater¯omnium Beatorum, Gaudium plenum post Deum: omnium super-norum civium Solatium. Tu Promotrix iustorum, Congrega-trix errantium: Promissio Patriar-charum. Tu Veritas Prophetarum, Praeconium, et Doctrix Apostolorum: Magistra Evangelistarum. Tu Fortitudo Martyrum, Exemplar Confessorum: Honor et Festivitas Virginum. Tu ad liberandum exnlem hominem: Filium Dei suscepisti in uterum. Per Te, expugnato hoste antiquo, sunt apert.a fidelibus gegna c"oelorum. Tu cure Filio tuo iedes: ad d~xter~m Patris. Tu [psum pro nobis roga, Virgo Maria: Quem nos ad iudicandum credimus esse venturum. Te ergo poscinius nobis tuis famulis subveni: qui pretioso sa~nguine Filii tui redempti sumus. Aeterna fac, pia Virgo: cure sanctis tuis nos gloria numerari. S~Ivum fac populum tuum, Domina: ut sirens participes haereditatis Filii tui. E~ rege nos: et custodi nos in aeternum. Per singulos dies: O Pin, Te salutamus. ¯ the advocate of the poor, and the compassionate refuge of sinners~ Almoner of Heaven: conqueror and ter-ror of demons, and of the haughty.-. Queen of Earth and Queen of Heaven: after God, our only hope. Welfare of those who invoke thee: haven of the shipwrecked: solace of the ~retched. refuge of the dying. Thou Mother of all the Blessed, after God their fullest joy: comfort of. all the citizens of Heaven. Thou art the Patroness of the ins_t, thbu gathere.st the wandering: and art the promise of the Patriarch~. Thou art the truth of the Prbphets:" the glory and the teacher of the Apostles and Evangelists. ~ Thou art the strength of Mai~yrs, the exemplar of Confessors: the. honor and joy of Virgins. To frde man from exile, tho6 did~f receive the Son of God in thy~.omb. By thee was co.nquered our enemy of old: and Hea~,en was opened for the faithful. With thy Son thou sitt~st: at the: right hand of~the Father.' Pray for us to Him, O Virgin Mary: ~-: who, we believe, will cgme to. judge us. Wherefore we beg thee to aid us, " " thy. sdrvants who have been re-deemed by thy Son's Preciofis Blood. Help us, gentle Virgin, to be numbered with thy saints in eternal glory. Save thy people, Blessed Lady: that they may partake of the heritage of 'thy Son. Rule us: ~nd p.rotect us for all eternity. Daily we greet ~hee: O 1o~,ing Mother. 195 FRANCIS N. KORTH; S.J. . Et laudare Te cupimus: usq.uein aeternum mente et voce. ." Dignare, dulcis Maria: nun et ¯ semper nos sine delicto conservare. Miserere, pia, nobis: miserere nobis. ¯ Fiat misericordia tua magna nobiseum: quia in Te, Virgo Maria, confidi- IllUS. In Te dulcis Maria, speramus: nos defendas in aeternum. Te decet laus, Te decet imperiu~a: Tibi virtus, et gloria in saecula saeeulorum, Amen. Te Mariam Te dilectam Dei Patris Filiam: omnes angeli pr~edicant. Te 'admirabilem Verbi Matrem: credit inferus et contremes¢it. Te Spiritus Sancti Sponsam: piacu-lares flammae invocant. Te omnes Ecclesiae hill: totis praecordiis exultant: MatRm : immensae miserkordiae, Carissimam sanctae Annae: et unicam Filiam, Dilectissimam a Deo: Josephi Sponsam. Tu vena ~eniae: Maria. Tu slngularis: Mater es gratlae. Tu ad redimendum genus humanum: tuum commodasti uterum. Tu, Gabrieli dato consensu: gaudium peperisti universo mundo. Tu, Regina, a dextris Dei stas: Circumdata varietate, 196 Reoiew £or Religious And with mind and tongue we desire: to praise thee forever. Deign, sweet Mary: to preserve us now and forever free from sin. Have mercy on us, O loving Mother: have mercy on us. Let thy mercy "for us be bountiful: for we trust in thee, O Virgin Mary. ¯ In thee. sweet Mary, do we hope: do thou protect us forever. Praise becometh thee: empire befits thee: to thee be power .and glory forever and ever. Amen. We praise, thee, O Mary: ~a£d proclaim thee immaculate. All sinners have recourse to thee: for thou art their refuge: All Christians: and pious associa-tions with their individual mem-bers, devoutly" acclaim thy Concep-tion. Immaculate, Immaculate, Immaculate: O Virgin Mother of God. There is none who would hide himself from the genial warmth of thy char-ity: for thou art the morning rising. All the angels proclaim thee: as the loved Daughter of the Father. Even trembling hell acknowledges thee: as the admirable Mother of the Word. The Purgatorial flames invoke thee: as the Spouse of the Holy Spirit. All children of the Church: magnify thee in the exuberai~ce of their hearts: As Mother of infinite mercy, As the dearest and only daughter: of Holy Ann, As the Spouse of St. Joseph: and most beloved of God. Thou art, O Mary, the channel of mercy. Thou art the all-excelling Mother of grace. For the redemption of the human race: thou didst accede to the designs of God. And by consenting to Ga-briefs word: thou didst beget joy for the whole world. Clothed in varied beauty, thou stand. est as Queen at God's right hand, Te Mariam laudamus: te Immaculatam confitemur. Te reorum patronam: omnes peceatores deprecantur: Tibi omnes christiani: ,et asceticae congregationes: tibi singuli so-dales in Conceptione tua devote proclami~nt : Immaculata0 Immaeulata, Immaculata: O Virgo Theotocos. Nullus est qui se abscondat a calore tuo: aurora consurgens. May, 1944 Mediatrix ut sis: Dei et hominum. Te ergo quaesumus, nobis subveni: q~ii tuam nominatim illibatam Conceptionem solemniter cele-. bramus. Aeterna fac: angelorumbe~,tltate donari. Protege tuos alumnos: et tuere fasciculum haereditatis tune. Et love illos: et fecunda in oper-ibus. virtutum. Tuis solemnibus congregamur: ad benedicendum tibi." Et extollimus Nomen Marine: super omne post Jesu Nomen amabile. Dignare, per purissimam Conceptionem tuam: nos a peccato praeservare. Ostende pro famulis tuis Filio tuo: pectus et ubera tun, Ut ostendat Patri sUO Unigenitus: latus et vulnera. Nulla erit repulsa: ubi talia erunt carttatts mstgnta. Te decet laus, te decet hymnus: tibi jubilus, ih Conceptione tua Immaculata00 Maria. ab universa creatura. Amen. TWO HYMNS TO MARY In order to be the mediatrix of man-kind. We beseech thee, therefore, come to our help: who with special and solemn cult honor the immaculate purity'of thy Conception. Grant that one day: we may be made partakers of angelic bliss. Protect thy children: and preserve thy little Society,. which is thy heritage. And cherish them: and" make them al~ound in the fruits of virtue. On thy festal days we gather round thee: to sing thy praises; And we extol the name of Mary: above every other name, next to the loving name of JeSus." By thy most pure Conception:. deign to preserve us from sin. In behalf of thy children: show thy loving and maternal heart to thy Son, so that in His turn, thy only begotten Son may exhibit: His side and wounds to His Father. There will b~ no refusal: when such pledges of love .are manifest. Hymns of praise and jubilation are due to thee from every creature: owing to thy Immaculate Concep- - tion, O Mary. Amen. NOTE ON THE SOURCES OF THE TE MATREM: The hymn has been found in an old Community Book of the Redemptorists which bears the date 1860, Other sources (Latin or English) that were indicated in the letters sent to us are: The early editions of St. Bonaventure's Opera Omnia. E.g.: 1584 Venetian edition. Tom. II, pp. 316 ft. Paris edition, Tom. XIV, p. 222b. It is also the 1504 Venetian edition and the 1596 Vatican edition. C'f. above, for the recent Quaracchi edition. Mese Di Mag~io Consacrato A Maria 8antissiraa Regina Degli Apostoli Ad Uso Degli Ecclesiastici, Vincenzo Pallotti. " Regain et Testamentum 8.P.N. Francisci. : ollegit Ft. Hilarius ab Antwe'rpia; Tornaci Nerviorum, 1876. lntroductio ad Vitara 8ecapbicara, auctore P. Ft. Gaudentio, O.F.M. Herder, Freiburg, 1'882. Summa Mariana, J. H. Schlitz, Paderborn0 Junfermannschen Buchhandlung; 1908: II, pp. 310-312. Via Franciscana ad Caelestera Hierusalem, auctore P. Pa~lo a Cr. Laschan. Pustet, 1912. Liber Manualis Minoritae, editus iussu A.R.P. Donati' a Welle,. O~F.M.Cap: Typis Soc. S. dohannis Evang., Desclee, 1931, (Continued on next page) 197 [EDITORS' NOTE: We intended to" publish only letters on retreats in the present number. But after th~ Ma~:ch number went to prdss we received tw9 communica-tions on vocation that we thought should be printed. Hence the present number - contains letters on both subjects. We had to condense some of these communica-tions,, and.we still have some for later publication. More letters on retreats will 'be welcome. Kindly make them as brief as your subject-matter allows. Address then~ to: The Editors of.Review for Religio.us, St. Mary'.s College, St. Marys, Kansas.] On Re÷rears Reverend Fathers: May I submit the following thoughts that came to mind as I read your request for letters on retreats: A. Making a retreat: Experience has .convinced me that. one must put aside the ordinary duties of acti~re life. A change of scene is imperative, espe- .cially. fOi, superiors .and administrators. 2." A "closed" retreat is the only setting.suitable for the in'yard silenc~ .and r&oilection imperative for success. ¯ .3. It is not good policy to cover much readingmatter. What is read should be .th.eologicaHy sound, suited to the. individual, and pro*ocakive of. reflection. ., . 4. A wholesome pr.actice in preparation for retreat is tO xey!ew, pgst r~tre~ts and one'~-!i.fe following them, with an aim of making the present exercises really influential in shaping one's course from then 'onwards: " '.: " Bi. Giving r~kre;i~s: ". . .: . 1. A reverent approach.is the ~nly proper one:.a retreat is the work of God; a work that may mean the salvation Of a soul or "t]~ )nakifi'g c~f a saint. " ": " (Note"continued from preceding page) The Mffror of the Bless6d Virgin Mary and The Psalter of our. Lady, by St. Bonaventure. Trans. by Sister Mary Emmanuel, O.S.B. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, 1932. Pp. 294-297. The Catholic Apostolate, published by the Pallotine Fathers, Milwaukee, Wis-consin, Vol. XI, p. 113. (Eng. trans, by the Rev. Jos. Baier.) Deuotion in Honor o~ our Blessed Lady; The Fioe Psalms: pamphlet issued by Tile .International Catholic Truth Society, 405-407 Bergen SL, Brooklyn, N. Y. (It is published by permission of the Redemptorist Fathers.) 198 . :.: . COMMUNIGATION$. ,. 2.The retreat master would .d0. well to avo!d.ipeaking,0f. himself. ¯ , 3. Conferences should be kepton a i~igh plane: deeply and supernaturally spiritual. They should be delivered with simplicity and sinceritg. . - .:. .:. ¯ ,. 4. Retreat m~isters would d0.well to avoid.the .use.of."We." '.'We know," "We realize," "We must," "Yet, we often," and.so forth. Retreatants like to accept the conferences .as coming from God, and the retreat master's identifying himself with the retreatants tends to frustrate their efforts. 5.-Novelties or novel themes should not be used to make an impress.ion, or to convince that the retreat master is "different," or the retreat "different." Sometimes this is done to the" neglec~"of important fundamentals, for'example~hell, obedience,' silence:' " 6. Truths that are old and obvious must be reconsidered in every retreat; and time-worn advice must be repeate.d. ~ . 7.Fresh. presentation is necessary-to draw and maintain interest and attention. .- ~: .:,.~ ¯ " .' APriest : " ~'~! R~)~rend' Father~ i . : '" ' ":""" " .MY .be.st retie~s begin" after"~h~y ~iie"~ohipl~ted. ' Fout'raeiia6rab]~: retreats of mY r~ligi6u~ life: ~i~e' 6nes whi~h,s~and ou for ~me.tl-iing in~'' :rather than ":taking~o~ei~hing .outi" Th~ 'ba~ed on 6ur H61y Rule. " Thh.iekieat 'ifiasker hgd"~en't" for~a coibY,) th~N~iice M~s~ress t61d us, and"made thd Spiritual Effeici~d~ ai3"pl~i dfi:edtiy to our daily; ll; ~s.' Thi'Hbl~;' Rfile became a living:, under.h~s direction. ~ . ' . . ' ' '"" ";~'::':' Anbther father showed ia his conference on the Sacrament of- Penance how very often nuns forget to confess envy:and jealou.sy,and:, to:make their purpose of.amendm.e.nt cen~gr.about love.of neighbor. It: makes one's faults against charity, show in .true.ligh~t. whe'n:.s,h~. confesses the basic, cause, .e:g. envy.S(ill another father he!d~:f0r.th such high ideals of sanctity that "_Christ the Ideal of: th :M0nl~ Marmion is included in. my privat.e spiritual read~ng at. least. ¯once every year since. ¯ . ':. Last summer we l~ad a retreat based on the most.beautiful medi-tations I have ever heard.- The director acually showed us hove.to 199 CoMMuNICATIONS Review [or Religious meditate. I p~ay for him every"day as h bendfactor because h.e has so helped ~y meditation problem. " : i'didn't like a retreat in which we' meditated on the Passion on Easter Sunday because the Exercises put it at ,that time. I didn't like a retreat in Which every meditation began with the sanie formula. "I ha~e never liked '"hell-fire" retreats. I could nevdr be scared intobeing good. I could be converted through 16ve of G~d. I do not like to be "'read at" during retreat. If the director uses notes" I. like to have him look at his audience, now and then. Finally,. thirty-five to forty-five minutes are long enough for any conference. If a retreat master hasn't converted me in a thirty minute. talk, he never will by talking over an hour. A Sister Reverend .Fathers: ,When I make a retreat, I don't like the retreat master to in(ro-duce "novel" things to the~ extent of getting away from-afiy of the old and fundamental truths. And if the retreat master uses the Exercises of St. Ignatius, I like him to bring in the: additions, annota-tions, and so forth, because I think that these help us to understand the¯Exercises and to make a bitter retreat, Also~ I think the explana-tions of the points ought to be short enough to allow the retreatants to meditate for a while by themselves. And I like to have a few little .stories and examples in the explanations of the points, because these lessen weariness and dryness.' Fifi~lly~since you've asked for sug-gdstions-- I believe that most of us who make. retreats are greatly aided if w,e feel that the retreat, master practises what he preaches: A Brother ~everend .Fathers: ' I am living in an infirmary where permanent invalids and some elderly Sistersare housed. For several yea.rs we have had retreat mas. ters who seemed more concerned about having us comfor'table and sympathized'with 'than about stimulating our spiritual lives. But a recent retreat master 'gave us a retreat for normal religious, who should understand "that suffering is basic, to spiritual growth, and~ who, if they understand their fundamentals, should strive to look upon suffering as a privilege in their spiritual lives and to use prayer 200 May, 1944 COMMUNICATIONS and the Uniting of their pains with the Suffering Savior for their own spiritual growth and for Other souls. If any group of religious needs to be stimulated to take their Courage in both. hands and to be willing to struggle bravely "and to fight valiantly, I believe it is the invalided religious. This recent retreat master, helped us. to do just that. Though I" have had devotion to the Holy Spirit for thirty years, it hadn't occurred to me that this is a particularly sturdy, "as well as liturgical, devotion. The retreat master expl.ained it as such; and he recommended it highly' to our sick--to make of us valiant women in our trials, soldiers of Christ, rather than self-pitying children." It gave me much joy to hear this because in my own eleven years of invalidism and hospitalization I have wondered why so many reli-gious look upon their suffering as a tragedy and an" opportunity for sel~-pity. This doesn't seem to be a normal Outlook, especially if one has any knowledge of the suffering which is borne in the world, even in the loveliest of homes. To conclude: From my knowledge of r.eligious, I believe Sisters like a sound exposition of practial truths, a "rousing up" on prin-ciples, a thorough overhauling of their every-day living--always with a definite solution through prayer and the Sacraments. This may sound like a large order; but I give it relatively and in contr"ast to the retreat in which one is left with volumes of theory or pages 9f mysticism. I have no quarrel with the beautiful mystici~sm of the Church. I love it. But women seem so often to become mysti.fied instead of mystical! Perhaps men do, too; I wouldh't know, but I have always thought that they are more apt to keep two feet on the ground. A Sister On Voca'don Reverend Fathers: In response to your invitation to "talk about vocations," we are eager to take advantage of this opportunity tO say something for the vocation to the contemplative life. ¯ Rev. 3oseph.3. Strauss, C.SS.R., in his communication on The Little Flowe~ Mission Circle, states that vocations need encourage-ment. This is particularly true of vocation.s to the contemplativ~ life. When a girl feels a desire to enter the cloister, she knows she is aiming high. She does not fed any too sure of herself, a.lthough she feels strongly drawn to a life of prayer and penance. Now, if she is 201 COMMUNICATIONS Rboieto t~or Relibious told that such a life is too difficult, that it does not accord with the spirit of our age, that it is useless, that she' could do more for God in" an active Order, she begins to doubt that God wants her in the clois-ter. She does not expect her parents to "feel, enthusiastic over her separating herself from them so completely, but .when she is dis-couraged by confessors, former teachers, religious friends on whose good judgment.she has always relied for guidance, the result often is that she enters an active Order where she does not firidcontentment, and very often leaves after a shorter or longer trial. This observation is the result of our,own personal e_xperience,in interviewing those who desire to enter our Order after ileaving an active one, or members of active communities who desire to make a change. We feel that if all those who have felt a desire to embrace our life had been duly encouraged we would not experience a want of vocations. - Poor Clare lquns Reverend Fathers : The letters in yo.ur REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS concerning rdigious vocations have interested me. I strike my breast on many scores. For example, I have not put religious pamphlets in conspicuous places where young girls seeking information may receive the vitamins to increase or satisfy this hunger. Material about nursing, social work, and teaching is easily obtained, but they see.little about religious life. I hang my head when it comes to bringing up the subject in conver-sation. I wait f6r the girls to question; they wait for the Sister to instruct. The result is that nothing happens. In.'my prayers the petition for more candidates tags at the end of other requests which seem of more immediate importance. Unwillingly and u.nknowingly I m~y have shocked today's youth. They see us at such close range and are quick to criticize any lowering of their ideal. "The world is sO much with us" that it is easy to slip into its mannerisms. Now after accepting my share of the blame, I intend to fortify myself behind a table and say to the regular confessor of°young women, "Father, what about.you?" . You know your weekly peni-tents and afte~ a year or so you know their spiritual progress and desires, their temptations, in the world and their reaction. Some of these girls might be waiting for a suggestion from you that.would bring into being their first thought of a religious vocation for them-selves. 202 Mag, 1944 COMMUNICATIONS Perhaps in today's s.eminary you are instructed not to offer such. suggestions. .If that be the case then stop reading this immediately. I only know that it is because of my confessor I happen to be where I am, and I am extremely grateful for his suggestion of over twenty years ago. His Saturday line was a very long one so he didn't h;ive much time for each indiVidual. Outside of the confessional I didn't speak to him~more than a dozen times, and then only to bid him the time of day as we passedon the str.eet--so the influence came through the confessional. He first advised me to go each week to Confession and his advice was followed. Then one day he surprised me with: "Do you enjoy going out?" "Yes,. Father." "Do you have a good time in a social crowd?" "If I know the crowd." "Do you keep steady compa.ny?" "No, Father." "Will you say a prayer every, day for a special intention?" "Yes, Father.". A few months later he'qubstioned: "Do you know anything about the life of Sisters. "A little, Father." :'Do you think you would like to be one?" "No, Father." "Well, don't let this question, worry you. Say some praye.rs every day thi*t God ¯will let you know His will and that yot~ ~ill have the:strength to follow. I will remember this inten.fion in ~y Masses." ¯ Thus my confessor took 5he initiative and helped me to make: ~he ¯ first few steps toward my "vocation. This seems to me. to be. grand work--one that the regular, confessor can surely do better thhna retreat master or a teacher: In the future I'll .try harder to foster vocations that are so greatly needed but When it comes to bringing up the subject in conversation I think I'll turn to the regular confessor and say, "Father, what about you?" A Sister 203 Book Reviews THE MAN FROM ROCCA SIC;CA. By the Reverend Reginald M. Coffey, O~P. Pp. xi -I- 140. The Bruce Publishing Company, Mil- ¯ waukee, 1944. $1.75. " '~History probably offers no parallel case of a man being so com-pletely identified with wha~ he has Written. St. Thomas very early, poss.ibly even in his own lifetime, became an institution rather than a personality" (pp. 100, 10.1). In a well-conceived attempt to por-tray the human Thomas, the" author of this popularly-written little volume makes use of the legends and scattered data on the saint's life to reconstruct a fair picture of the man behind the Summae. Apart from a number of distra.cting author-to-reader asides and. an occa-sional expression not in the best of taste, the general reader who is l/o.oking for an 'introduction to this thoroughly human .personality will find The Man from Rocca Sicca satisfying fare. Several pages in .the chapters on the "dumb Ox," on Thomas the saint, the man, the preacher live up fully to the high promise of Father Farrell's preface. They stand out considerably above the level of the rest of the book in giving "a humanly touching intro-duction to Brother Thomas." In this day of excellently written biography and of exhaustive research into medieval sources, one looks forward to a definitivd life_ of St. ThomasAthe .religious, the statesman, the teacher and preacher, the champion of truth, the human dynamo, the dominant personality of his time. The'Man from Rocca Sicca suggests the human values that. will warrant special treatment.mL. THRO, S.J. SUBDEAC;ONSHIP: C;ONFERENC;ES ON THE RITE OF' ORDINATION. By the Revere'nd AIoyslus.Biskupek, S.V.D. Pp. xl -t- 301. B. Herder' B6ok Co., St. Louis, 19~44. $2.50. These medita~ion~ are the fruit of twenty years' experience in directing the Ordinandi Retreats at Techny. Father Biskupek quickly realized how rich in lessons for the young cleric was the ordination liturgy, suitable especially to the days preceding the cere, 'mony. Having found nothing in print along these lines, he mod-estly offers his own reflections as "something new in a field that stands in need of more cultivation."~ .204 BOOK R,EVIEWS The idea is splendid~ and worked out with a gentle persuasive-ness that bespeaks the fervor and maturity of its author. An outstanding merit o~ the book is its attractive simplicity. With no display of erudition or subtlety it proposes straightfor-wardly and effectively the clerical virtues which quite obviously link themselves to the sacred text. To some this obviousnes~might appear superficial. We might look for mort of penetration, grandeur, vitality. Two remedies suggest themselves: evidence of wider familiarity with historical and ascetical backgrounds, and a more humanly appealing richness of inspirational stories and actual experiences from the priestly minis-try. "Retreat masters might feel that a psychological analysis of the cleric's obligations is a more suitable framework for 'the daily medi-tations than the random sequence of the ceremonial. But for a daily hour of conference to link the retreat with the ritual looming so bright on the horizon, the comme.ntary is rich in suggestion. ~R. NORTH, S.J. MARYKNOLL MISSION LE'I'rERS: VOLUME II, 1943. Pp. viii ~-k 54. Field Afar Press, New York, 1943. $ .50. Falling bombs! In an instant a life;s work in utter ruins! Amid the terrors of war Maryknoll heroes are saving souls by bringing Christ not only to Chinese, but also to our American service men in China. The Letters give vivid persotial accounts of work ainong the Bhuddists, shopping tours in Kwelin, the strange life at Tibet, mis- "sion schools in war-torn villages. Thi~ second part of this booklet answers the question, "Why send missionaries to.South and Central America?" The descriptions of the sleepy life of the "barracas," the visit of Vice President Wal-lace to the mission in Villa Victoria, the tender devotion of the natives to Mary, the uniq