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Open Access#922017

Soapbox History: The Life and Lessons of Mother Jones

Guillotte, Autumn

Labor leader, Mary "Mother" Jones, has a lot to teach the working people of today. She believed that the working class had the power to fight economic repression and the harsh reality of life where industrialist and monied interests dominate our society. She fought the injustices of her time at the pulpit, at the picket lines, and through the media. From 1890 - 1930, She was a fierce advocate for immigrant and working class people, campaigning for unions all over the country, and helping to found the Social Democratic Party and the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW). For many, she was the hero of the working class. Mother Jones became an icon and household name, especially in industrial and mining areas. Wherever she went she promised of victory for the worker. She traveled so much, from one strike area to the next, that she once said, "My address is like my shoes. It travels with me. I abide where there is a fight against wrong." Her legend as a folk hero preceded her wherever she went. Factory and mine owners and their corrupt politicians, would ban her from speaking to the workers in their towns. They served one injunction after another, threatened her with force, and arrested her dozens of times. During this time, she was in her 70s and 80s, an old woman, often called the "grandmother of the labor movement." Mother ignored these orders always found a way to rally "her boys", even from a jail cell. Working families would literally sing her welcome. Choruses of the folk song written for her, "She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain" could be heard in working towns all over the country. However, when she died in 1930, the labor movement was losing momentum. Without her and other orators, it lost its voice. She quickly fell into anonymity until the 1960s. The civil rights movement and the "new left" in academia saw a resurgence in the study of Mother Jones and the American labor movement. Now, in recent years, rhetoricians and public historians are looking to her to learn how to penetrate public consciousness. I believe that the best way to do that, is to bring her stories to the public. This summer, I went back to Mother's home base, Chicago. There I wrote and produced a public, historic walking tour on the life and lessons of Mother Jones. I have called this a "soapbox history" as a nod to the Progressive Era's oral traditions, in which reformers would find the nearest soapbox, stand on top of it, and speak to the people. Then, just as now, the best way to educate the public was to make it your message easy and accessible. A walking tour is one step towards that end. This project is aimed at bringing working class history back to the working people. I believe that a working class which is aware of its labor history will be better informed when decisions are being made in the workplace and in government which affect their economic security and well-being, today. I hope that the words of Mother Jones will inspire more people to fight for economic justice and a better life for the next generation. In her words, "Pray for the dead, fight like hell for the living!" This work and my history portfolio can be found at https://themotherjonesproject.blogspot.com/ or in the downloadable files section on this page.

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Blogbeitrag#9320. September 2023

Hawley, Lujan urge payments for Americans harmed by nuclear tests

Blog: Responsible Statecraft

Connor Echols

A bipartisan group of lawmakers pledged Tuesday that they would fight to get compensation for American who have been harmed by radioactive fallout from nuclear testing and mining operations.
"If the government is going to expose its own citizens to radioactive material for decades, the government ought to pay the bills of the men and women who have gotten sick because of it," said Sen. Josh Hawley (R-Mo.) in a press conference near the Capitol. "They ought to pay for the survivor benefits of those who have been lost."
Hawley's comments came just a few months after he surprised observers by introducing an amendment to the National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA) to expand compensation for victims of nuclear testing. The proposal earned bipartisan support following intensive lobbying by Hawley and Sen. Ben Ray Lujan (D-N.M.), allowing the measure to pass on a 61-37 vote.
The House, which did not include such a measure in its version of the NDAA, voted yesterday to send its text of the defense policy bill to conference, where the Biden administration plans to work with leadership from each chamber to reconcile the two bills.
While some House Republicans have opposed the bill due to potential costs, Hawley says he is "hopeful" that he will persuade his colleagues to support the measure. "I'm talking to anybody who will listen," he told reporters. "Congress can actually get something done, and we can work across the aisle."
Reps. Teresa Leger-Fernandez (D-N.M.) and James Moylan (R-Guam), both of whom have numerous constituents affected by nuclear testing, are leading a push in the House to build support for the measure.
The proposal builds on the Radiation Exposure Compensation Act, which passed in 1990 and was expanded in 2000. The law provides compensation for some uranium miners and "downwinders" who lived near the Nevada Test Site, where the U.S. government conducted hundreds of nuclear tests in the 1950s and 1960s.
But it left out a number of groups that have faced increased rates of cancer and other deadly or debilitating diseases, including those who lived downwind of J. Robert Oppenheimer's "Trinity Test" in New Mexico.
Downwinders have struggled for years to get the government to recognize the harm it caused them. Activists have lobbied lawmakers, held vigils for victims, and even attempted to get the team producing 'Oppenheimer' to include a note about their plight in the blockbuster biopic.
While Christopher Nolan's crew never took a meeting with the downwinders, his film has helped move their efforts forward, according to Lujan, a long-time supporter of RECA expansion who attributes his father's untimely death to radiation exposure while working at Los Alamos.
"I'm happy that story is being told because it's given an opportunity for all the families behind me here and countless others to shed light on an injustice," he said, gesturing to a group of more than 20 activists from areas not covered under RECA.
If passed, the expansion would also extend the program, which is set to expire next summer, for an additional 19 years. Activists say this is key given that many downwinders and uranium miners may not be aware of the ties between nuclear testing and cancer. Bernice Gutierrez told RS that she only made the connection between radiation and her family's health issues — including 21 separate cases of cancer — in the early 2000s, when she saw an activist speaking about the issue on local television.
"It's the first time that we have ever come this close," Gutierrez told RS, holding back tears. "We just hope it goes all the way."
"It should not be a hard decision," she added. "Our country harmed us, and our country should make it right."
Some of the harm related to nuclear testing is ongoing. As an activist from St. Louis told reporters, the military has removed at least 300 truckloads of nuclear waste from a site near a St. Louis elementary school over the last few months. The impact of that radioactive material will take years to fully grasp.
Tina Cordova, an activist from New Mexico who survived a bout with thyroid cancer when she was 39, said she is determined to fight for RECA expansion even if the measure fails to make it into the NDAA this year. "We will never go away," she told reporters. "There are generations standing behind us whose genes carry this legacy."

zum Blogbeitrag

Landrigan, Philip J; Stegeman, John J; Fleming, Lora E; Allemand, Denis; Anderson, Donald M; Backer, Lorraine C; Brucker-Davis, Françoise; Chevalier, Nicolas

Open Access#942020

Human Health and Ocean Pollution

Background: Pollution – unwanted waste released to air, water, and land by human activity – is the largest environmental cause of disease in the world today. It is responsible for an estimated nine million premature deaths per year, enormous economic losses, erosion of human capital, and degradation of ecosystems. Ocean pollution is an important, but insufficiently recognized and inadequately controlled component of global pollution. It poses serious threats to human health and well-being. The nature and magnitude of these impacts are only beginning to be understood.Goals: (1) Broadly examine the known and potential impacts of ocean pollution on human health. (2) Inform policy makers, government leaders, international organizations, civil society, and the global public of these threats. (3) Propose priorities for interventions to control and prevent pollution of the seas and safeguard human health.Methods: Topic-focused reviews that examine the effects of ocean pollution on human health, identify gaps in knowledge, project future trends, and offer evidence-based guidance for effective intervention.Environmental Findings: Pollution of the oceans is widespread, worsening, and in most countries poorly controlled. It is a complex mixture of toxic metals, plastics, manufactured chemicals, petroleum, urban and industrial wastes, pesticides, fertilizers, pharmaceutical chemicals, agricultural runoff, and sewage. More than 80% arises from land-based sources. It reaches the oceans through rivers, runoff, atmospheric deposition and direct discharges. It is often heaviest near the coasts and most highly concentrated along the coasts of low- and middle-income countries. Plastic is a rapidly increasing and highly visible component of ocean pollution, and an estimated 10 million metric tons of plastic waste enter the seas each year. Mercury is the metal pollutant of greatest concern in the oceans; it is released from two main sources – coal combustion and small-scale gold mining. Global spread of industrialized agriculture with increasing use of chemical fertilizer leads to extension of Harmful Algal Blooms (HABs) to previously unaffected regions. Chemical pollutants are ubiquitous and contaminate seas and marine organisms from the high Arctic to the abyssal depths.Ecosystem Findings: Ocean pollution has multiple negative impacts on marine ecosystems, and these impacts are exacerbated by global climate change. Petroleum-based pollutants reduce photosynthesis in marine microorganisms that generate oxygen. Increasing absorption of carbon dioxide into the seas causes ocean acidification, which destroys coral reefs, impairs shellfish development, dissolves calcium-containing microorganisms at the base of the marine food web, and increases the toxicity of some pollutants. Plastic pollution threatens marine mammals, fish, and seabirds and accumulates in large mid-ocean gyres. It breaks down into microplastic and nanoplastic particles containing multiple manufactured chemicals that can enter the tissues of marine organisms, including species consumed by humans. Industrial releases, runoff, and sewage increase frequency and severity of HABs, bacterial pollution, and anti-microbial resistance. Pollution and sea surface warming are triggering poleward migration of dangerous pathogens such as the Vibrio species. Industrial discharges, pharmaceutical wastes, pesticides, and sewage contribute to global declines in fish stocks.Human Health Findings: Methylmercury and PCBs are the ocean pollutants whose human health effects are best understood. Exposures of infants in utero to these pollutants through maternal consumption of contaminated seafood can damage developing brains, reduce IQ and increase children's risks for autism, ADHD and learning disorders. Adult exposures to methylmercury increase risks for cardiovascular disease and dementia. Manufactured chemicals – phthalates, bisphenol A, flame retardants, and perfluorinated chemicals, many of them released into the seas from plastic waste – can disrupt endocrine signaling, reduce male fertility, damage the nervous system, and increase risk of cancer. HABs produce potent toxins that accumulate in fish and shellfish. When ingested, these toxins can cause severe neurological impairment and rapid death. HAB toxins can also become airborne and cause respiratory disease. Pathogenic marine bacteria cause gastrointestinal diseases and deep wound infections. With climate change and increasing pollution, risk is high that Vibrio infections, including cholera, will increase in frequency and extend to new areas. All of the health impacts of ocean pollution fall disproportionately on vulnerable populations in the Global South – environmental injustice on a planetary scale.Conclusions: Ocean pollution is a global problem. It arises from multiple sources and crosses national boundaries. It is the consequence of reckless, shortsighted, and unsustainable exploitation of the earth's resources. It endangers marine ecosystems. It impedes the production of atmospheric oxygen. Its threats to human health are great and growing, but still incompletely understood. Its economic costs are only beginning to be counted.Ocean pollution can be prevented. Like all forms of pollution, ocean pollution can be controlled by deploying data-driven strategies based on law, policy, technology, and enforcement that target priority pollution sources. Many countries have used these tools to control air and water pollution and are now applying them to ocean pollution. Successes achieved to date demonstrate that broader control is feasible. Heavily polluted harbors have been cleaned, estuaries rejuvenated, and coral reefs restored.Prevention of ocean pollution creates many benefits. It boosts economies, increases tourism, helps restore fisheries, and improves human health and well-being. It advances the Sustainable Development Goals (SDG). These benefits will last for centuries.Recommendations: World leaders who recognize the gravity of ocean pollution, acknowledge its growing dangers, engage civil society and the global public, and take bold, evidence-based action to stop pollution at source will be critical to preventing ocean pollution and safeguarding human health.Prevention of pollution from land-based sources is key. Eliminating coal combustion and banning all uses of mercury will reduce mercury pollution. Bans on single-use plastic and better management of plastic waste reduce plastic pollution. Bans on persistent organic pollutants (POPs) have reduced pollution by PCBs and DDT. Control of industrial discharges, treatment of sewage, and reduced applications of fertilizers have mitigated coastal pollution and are reducing frequency of HABs. National, regional and international marine pollution control programs that are adequately funded and backed by strong enforcement have been shown to be effective. Robust monitoring is essential to track progress.Further interventions that hold great promise include wide-scale transition to renewable fuels; transition to a circular economy that creates little waste and focuses on equity rather than on endless growth; embracing the principles of green chemistry; and building scientific capacity in all countries.Designation of Marine Protected Areas (MPAs) will safeguard critical ecosystems, protect vulnerable fish stocks, and enhance human health and well-being. Creation of MPAs is an important manifestation of national and international commitment to protecting the health of the seas.

BASE

Landrigan, Philip J; Stegeman, John J; Fleming, Lora E; Allemand, Denis; Anderson, Donald M; Backer, Lorraine C; Brucker-Davis, Francoise; Chevalier, Nicolas

Open Access#952020

Human Health and Ocean Pollution

Background: Pollution - unwanted waste released to air, water, and land by human activity - is the largest environmental cause of disease in the world today. It is responsible for an estimated nine million premature deaths per year, enormous economic losses, erosion of human capital, and degradation of ecosystems. Ocean pollution is an important, but insufficiently recognized and inadequately controlled component of global pollution. It poses serious threats to human health and well-being. The nature and magnitude of these impacts are only beginning to be understood. Goals: (1) Broadly examine the known and potential impacts of ocean pollution on human health. (2) Inform policy makers, government leaders, international organizations, civil society, and the global public of these threats. (3) Propose priorities for interventions to control and prevent pollution of the seas and safeguard human health. Methods: Topic-focused reviews that examine the effects of ocean pollution on human health, identify gaps in knowledge, project future trends, and offer evidence-based guidance for effective intervention. Environmental Findings: Pollution of the oceans is widespread, worsening, and in most countries poorly controlled. It is a complex mixture of toxic metals, plastics, manufactured chemicals, petroleum, urban and industrial wastes, pesticides, fertilizers, pharmaceutical chemicals, agricultural runoff, and sewage. More than 80% arises from land-based sources. It reaches the oceans through rivers, runoff, atmospheric deposition and direct discharges. It is often heaviest near the coasts and most highly concentrated along the coasts of low- and middle-income countries. Plastic is a rapidly increasing and highly visible component of ocean pollution, and an estimated 10 million metric tons of plastic waste enter the seas each year. Mercury is the metal pollutant of greatest concern in the oceans; it is released from two main sources - coal combustion and small-scale gold mining. Global spread of industrialized agriculture with increasing use of chemical fertilizer leads to extension of Harmful Algal Blooms (HABs) to previously unaffected regions. Chemical pollutants are ubiquitous and contaminate seas and marine organisms from the high Arctic to the abyssal depths. Ecosystem Findings: Ocean pollution has multiple negative impacts on marine ecosystems, and these impacts are exacerbated by global climate change. Petroleum-based pollutants reduce photosynthesis in marine microorganisms that generate oxygen. Increasing absorption of carbon dioxide into the seas causes ocean acidification, which destroys coral reefs, impairs shellfish development, dissolves calcium-containing microorganisms at the base of the marine food web, and increases the toxicity of some pollutants. Plastic pollution threatens marine mammals, fish, and seabirds and accumulates in large mid-ocean gyres. It breaks down into microplastic and nanoplastic particles containing multiple manufactured chemicals that can enter the tissues of marine organisms, including species consumed by humans. Industrial releases, runoff, and sewage increase frequency and severity of HABs, bacterial pollution, and anti-microbial resistance. Pollution and sea surface warming are triggering poleward migration of dangerous pathogens such as the Vibrio species. Industrial discharges, pharmaceutical wastes, pesticides, and sewage contribute to global declines in fish stocks. Human Health Findings: Methylmercury and PCBs are the ocean pollutants whose human health effects are best understood. Exposures of infants in utero to these pollutants through maternal consumption of contaminated seafood can damage developing brains, reduce IQ and increase children's risks for autism, ADHD and learning disorders. Adult exposures to methylmercury increase risks for cardiovascular disease and dementia. Manufactured chemicals - phthalates, bisphenol A, flame retardants, and perfluorinated chemicals, many of them released into the seas from plastic waste - can disrupt endocrine signaling, reduce male fertility, damage the nervous system, and increase risk of cancer. HABs produce potent toxins that accumulate in fish and shellfish. When ingested, these toxins can cause severe neurological impairment and rapid death. HAB toxins can also become airborne and cause respiratory disease. Pathogenic marine bacteria cause gastrointestinal diseases and deep wound infections. With climate change and increasing pollution, risk is high that Vibrio infections, including cholera, will increase in frequency and extend to new areas. All of the health impacts of ocean pollution fall disproportionately on vulnerable populations in the Global South - environmental injustice on a planetary scale. Conclusions: Ocean pollution is a global problem. It arises from multiple sources and crosses national boundaries. It is the consequence of reckless, shortsighted, and unsustainable exploitation of the earth's resources. It endangers marine ecosystems. It impedes the production of atmospheric oxygen. Its threats to human health are great and growing, but still incompletely understood. Its economic costs are only beginning to be counted. Ocean pollution can be prevented. Like all forms of pollution, ocean pollution can be controlled by deploying data-driven strategies based on law, policy, technology, and enforcement that target priority pollution sources. Many countries have used these tools to control air and water pollution and are now applying them to ocean pollution. Successes achieved to date demonstrate that broader control is feasible. Heavily polluted harbors have been cleaned, estuaries rejuvenated, and coral reefs restored. Prevention of ocean pollution creates many benefits. It boosts economies, increases tourism, helps restore fisheries, and improves human health and well-being. It advances the Sustainable Development Goals (SDG). These benefits will last for centuries. Recommendations: World leaders who recognize the gravity of ocean pollution, acknowledge its growing dangers, engage civil society and the global public, and take bold, evidence-based action to stop pollution at source will be critical to preventing ocean pollution and safeguarding human health. Prevention of pollution from land-based sources is key. Eliminating coal combustion and banning all uses of mercury will reduce mercury pollution. Bans on single-use plastic and better management of plastic waste reduce plastic pollution. Bans on persistent organic pollutants (POPs) have reduced pollution by PCBs and DDT. Control of industrial discharges, treatment of sewage, and reduced applications of fertilizers have mitigated coastal pollution and are reducing frequency of HABs. National, regional and international marine pollution control programs that are adequately funded and backed by strong enforcement have been shown to be effective. Robust monitoring is essential to track progress. Further interventions that hold great promise include wide-scale transition to renewable fuels; transition to a circular economy that creates little waste and focuses on equity rather than on endless growth; embracing the principles of green chemistry; and building scientific capacity in all countries. Designation of Marine Protected Areas (MPAs) will safeguard critical ecosystems, protect vulnerable fish stocks, and enhance human health and well-being. Creation of MPAs is an important manifestation of national and international commitment to protecting the health of the seas.

BASE

Open Access#961903

The Mercury - March 1903 ; Gettysburg College Mercury; College Mercury; Mercury

In: http://gettysburg.cdmhost.com/cdm/ref/collection/GBNP01/id/54579

Gettysburg College

YOL. XII NO. 1 MARCH, 1903 The Gettysburg ODereary GETTYSBURG COLLEGE GETTYSBURG, PA. T r PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS ! Good Work Low Prices Publishers ol THE GETTYSBURG NEWS 142 Carlisle St., Gettysburg, Pa. JUBEIEIItf LITTLE, LTD. AMOS ECKERT Latest Styles in HATS, SHOES AND GENT'S FURNISHING .Our specialty. WALK-OVER SHOE AMOS ECKERT Prices always right The Lutheran puM$jing {lou£e". No. 1424 Arch Street PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Col-leges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and devel-op one of the church institutions with pecuniary advantage to yourself. Address H. S. BONER, Supt. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTIZERS. FURNITURE Mattresses, Bed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames, Repair Work done promptly. Under-taking a specialty. * Telephone No. 97. X3Z_ IE. Eem-d-er 37 Baltimore St., Gettysburg, Pa. THE STEWART & STEEN CO. College Engravers cond (Printers 1024 Arch St., Philadelphia, Pa. MAKERS AND PUBLISHERS OF Commencement, Class Day Invitations and Programs, Class Pins and Buttons in Gold and Other Metals, Wedding Invitations and Announcements, At Home Cards, Reception Cards and Visiting Cards, Visiting Cards—Plate and 50 cards, 75 cents. Special Discount to Students. N. A. YEANY, Gettysburg College Representative. 4. §. (Spalding £ §ros., Largest Manufacturers in the World of Official Athletic Supplies. Base Ball Lawn Tennis Golf Field Hockey Official JUMetic Implements. Spalding's Catalogue of Athletic Sports Mailed Free to any Address. A. G. Spalding & Bros. NEW YORK - . CHICAGO - - DENVER - - BUFFALO - - BALTIMORE THESE FIRMS ARE O. K. PATRONIZE THEM. DO YOU KNOW WHERE The Choicest Candies, The Finest Soda Water, The Largest Oysters, The Best Ice Cream, Can be found in town? Yes, at Young's Confectionary On Chambersburg Street, near City Hotel, Gettysburg, Pa. IF YOU CALL OH" C. A. Bloeher, JemeleF, Centre Square, He can serve you in anything you may want in REPAIRING or JEWELRY. SEFTON & FLEMMING'S LIVERY Baltimore Street, First Square, Gettysburg, Pa. Competent Guides for all parts of the Battlefield. Arrangements by telegram or letter. Lock Box 257. I I. MUMPER. 41 Baltimore St., Gettysburg, Pa. The improvements to our Studio have proven a perfect success and we are now better prepared than ever to give you satisfactory work. -*■ ■*-—-"' "At" THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. J old man lifted her up, As they both stood gazing on the white form below, Whitman said to the child : "You do not under-stand this, my dear, do you?" "No," said the child. "Neither do I, neither do I," was the answer. He loved to contemplate the questions!"children would ask. "A child said, What is the grass ? fetching it to me with full hands ; How could I answer the child ? I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven. Or I guess it is the handcherchief of the Lord, A scented gift and remembrancer designedly droppt, Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark and say, Whose ?" When he was too ill to leave his room he wanted his friends continually by his side. Whitman died March 26, 1902, and his funeral was wholly without parallel in this country. It was attended by thous-ands, yet not so much a funeral as a merry-making; not a tear fell, bright and happy were the faces. They did not rejoice in his death, but were glad that he had lived. Walt Whitman enjoyed a popularity abroad equal only to that of Longfellow. Here his popularity is intermittent, Long-fellow's constant. Whether he will be generally read, time alone will tell. Some will be repelled by the lack of rhyme and rhythm. But give his poems that excellence, you take away the force, you take away the man, and we care for rhyme and rhythm not more than for Whitman himself. His admirers have called him the American Homer ; others, Hesiod teaching us "Works and Days." There is somewhat of the Greek in Whitman, yet not the Greek of Homer nor yet the Greek of Hesiod, for he was as in-capable of pessimism as Hesiod was of optimism. He is our American Rhapsodist singing the songs of Man, of Nature and Life, of Home—a genius, let us take him as he is. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. THE ELECTRA OF SOPHOCLES. M. ADA MCLINN, '04. THE Greek poet Sophocles was called "The Bee" among his contemporaries because of the sweetness and smoothness of his verse. From such a writer we should expect a well-written play; and our loftiest expectations are realized after a study of his Electra. This tragic drama deals with the ill-fated house of Atreus. Agamemnon, a descendant of this house, upon his return from the Trojan war in which he commanded the Greeks, was treacherously slain by his wife Clytemnaestra with the aid of her paramour Aegisthus. Her son Orestes was also to be dispatched by some underhand means, but he is rescued by his sister Electra, who, after caring for him for many years, sends him to the court of Strophius of Phokis. He afterward visits the oracle of Apollo, where he is commanded to avenge his father's death. Both Electra and Orestes make this revenge the one aim and purpose of their lives. The story opens eight years after Agamemnon's death. Orestes has returned with his attendant to his native land. While at his uncle's court, he formed a fast friendship with his cousin Pylades and it is with his advice that all plans for ven-geance are formed. The morning has dawned bright and joyous and with it dawns a new hope. Orestes is roused to cany out the oracle's command—■ That he himself unarmed with shield or host Should subtly work the righteous deed of blood. The deed is to be carried out by strategy. News of his death will be carried to the palace, thus giving Clytemnaestra and Aegisthus a sense of freedom from their constant fear of Ores-tes; then, off their guard, they will be slain. The play naturally divides itself into four parts : First—The return of Orestes and the formation of a plan for executing vengeance. This plan forms the key-note of the play. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 9 Second—The appearance of Electra before the palace, her outpouring of grief, the sympathetic answers from the chorus, the appearance of Chrysothemis, a younger sister, with offerings from Clytemnaestra for Agamemnon's grave to propitiate the dream which she had received, Electra's persuasions resulting in Chrysothemis' pouring libations on the grave with prayers for Orestes' return, Clytemnaestra's appearance and her bitter reproaches against Electra, the arrival of the messenger telling of Orestes' death, over which Electra is cast down to the depths of despair and Clytemnaestra raised to a corresponding height of joy, Chrysothemis' second appearance telling of Orestes' visit to Agamemnon's grave and of his offerings upon it, Electra's refutation of this by the news of Orestes' death, the coming of two messengers bearing the urn containing Orestes' ashes; this may be called the elaboration in preparation for the catastrophe. Third—The recognition of Orestes and Electra upon his revealing his identity, their joy in meeting and their discussion of vengeance. Fourth—The conspiracy against Clytemnaestra and Aegis-thus resulting in their death, thus freeing the house of Atreus from its curse as expressed in the closing lines of the chorus: O seed of Atreus, after many woes, Thou hast come forth, thy freedom hardly won, By this emprise made perfect ! The play throughout is characterized by great feeling. The plot is so well carried out that the interest of the reader is con-stantly sustained. There are some phases of the play which call forth our in-dignation; for example—Clytemnaestra's hatred of her son and daughter, her joy over the announcement of her son, Orestes' death, Electra's life-consuming passion for revenge, her seem-ing delight and satisfaction when the murder of her mother and Aegisthus takes place, and Orestes' performance of the murder; but the Greek idea of vengeance was that of a relig-ious duty and a man received commendation for executing it. IO THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The heroine and strongest character of the play is Electra. For force of will, persistence of purpose, and thirst for ven-geance she has not been surpassed among womankind. Yet counterbalancing the sterner side of her nature is her tender care of Orestes when he was a child, her love towards him, her great joy at meeting him, and her pleasure upon recognizing the faithful old pedagogue. Her tendency to extremes of despair and joy is shown in the following lines: and "Ah me ! I perish utterly. All is lost !" 'O blessed light! O voice ! And art thou come?" The former, uttered when she thought Orestes dead; the latter when she recognizes his living presence. Sophocles thoroughly understands the art of making his readers acquainted with his characters. One feels as if he were living with them. When Electra is sad, we are sad, and we sympathize with her as did the chorus. Her lot was indeed a hard one. For those many years she had waited for the exe-cution of vengeance, while, in the mean time, she had to live in the same building with those whom she despised, to see Aegisthus established in her father's place, and, to all appear-ances, prosperous and happy, to be deserted by all friends, and at last to hear of the death of Orestes, the one in whom she centred all her hopes. Still with a courageous spirit, she sug-gests to Chrysothemis that they together do the deed. Orestes enters the play as a means for revenge. The interest is so constantly with Electra that one is interested in him only in his connection with Electra and in his fulfilment of her wishes. He shows an obedient spirit in his regard for the pedagogue's advice and a stern sense of religious duty in his regard for the oracle's command. His love and compassion for his sister in her neglected condition is expressed between the lines, as it were, in these words of recognition: "Is this Electra's noble form I see? Alas, alas, for this sad lot of thine !" . r THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. II In the same degree that we sympathized with Electra, we hate Clytemnaestra. Her heart is black and sinful and in all her words we must condemn her. She appears specially obnoxious when she receives the news of Orestes' death, and how we must loathe the feeling of satis-faction she exhibits when she says: "Now, for all her threats, We shall live on and pass our days in peace." With the same feeling of detestation we regard Aegisthus and we give our assent when his murder takes place. The irony of the conclusion is fine. We can feel it in all that is said and done. Sophocles has fairly painted before our eyes the picture of the scenes. For example, when Aegisthus removes the cloth from the face of Orestes, as he supposed, and finds Clytemnaestra, his wife, dead and cold, we can hear him say: "Oh, what sight is this?" Chrysothemis, the sister of Orestes and Electra, is a minor character, introduced to bring out by contrast with her weak-ness the great strength of Electra's character. The play contains many fine monologues. The attendant's description of the chariot-race is so real that one can see the contestants as: "With sound of brazen triumph, They started. Cheering all their steeds At once, they shook the reins, and then, The course was filled with all the clash and din Of rattling chariots, and the dust rose high ; And all commingled, sparing not the good, That each might pass his neighbor's axle-trees, And horses' hot hard breathing," The gods are clearly recognized but are kept in the back-ground. They control the acts of men, and great confidence is placed in them as shown in the words of the chorus: "Take heart, my child, take heart; Mighty in heaven he dwells, Zeus, seeing, guiding all." 12 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. THE EVOLUTION OF PERSONALITY. E. B. HAY, '03. HAVE you ever stopped, in the turmoil of your busy life long enough to think that you are a person: that is( I mean—to realize that you are more than an individual, a mere unit among the myriads of humanity ; that, on the other hand, you are unique, no other being has been just like you, and all eternity will fail to reproduce your personality ? If you have ever meditated thus, or if you have attempted to solve the question : What is implied by the word personality ? you have doubtless been staggered by the immensity of the problem before you. There are terrestrial bodies of water which have never been fathomed. Men have been able to obtain some idea of their great depth, however, by the very futility of their attempts to gain more exact knowledge. So, in our consideration of per-sonality, we may but hope to sound its depths for a further rev-elation of their vastness. It is not my intention to trace out the lines of distinction in personalities which lead to the many interesting variations among humanity; but, to present an outline,in accordance with modern scientific views, of the vast movement through which an unceasing energy has evolved from an original chaos the complexity of system to which we to-day give the name of petsotiality. We cannot but approach our discussion in reverence, realiz-ing that none but the great Creator and Preserver of this mighty universe knows, or perhaps ever will know the exact course through which a terrestrial being, man, came to be but a little lower than the angels, "to have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth." "Man proposes, but God disposes." God has disposed, and now man would propose. Made in the image of his Creator, man seeks to understand the divine plan. He would study and interpret the laws of God. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 13 As the finite cannot comprehend the infinite, so can man, of himself, never reach a perfect solution ol the methods and laws of his Creator. One law, that of his own heredity, has, how-ever, long been of paramount interest to man, and more es-pecially to the inquisitive Aryan. Theory upon theory has been advanced and accepted. Each has its flaws and breaks of evidence. Any discussion of our topic, however, must be based upon some one of these theories, and so I have chosen the great generalization of to-day's scientific thought; namely, "the genetic unity and unbroken development of the whole realm of nature, to which we also belong." Scientists tell us that organic and inorganic forms were orig-inally one.the organicbeingahigher development of the inorganic. They further make mind the consummate flower of organic life. Hence we would complete the vast development of nature in the final fruitage of personality, saying with Drummond that "to withdraw continuity from the universe would be the same as to withdraw reason from an individual." In the first place, we shall trace a development from an original unity of matter to a separation of i?idividual iorms ; in the second, an advance in these individual forms from their primal simplicity to a marked complexity ; and finally, we shall attempt to show that the consummation of the universal im-pulse to.individualization is personality. Consider, then, a period probably thousands of millions of years ago, when space was occupied by a diffused nebulous material, where the ultimate atoms were the only definite struc-tures. Out of this seemingly infinite and formless deep the nebulae settle into various individual aggregations. The move-ment is universal, and as this primitive matter assumes individ-ual forms it also takes on certain functions, and gradually great solar systems evolve. Our own earth, a vast whirling mass of nebulous matter, gradually contracts and assumes still more complicated functions as it falls into motion about a similar though much larger aggregation of matter. Turning our atten-tion now solely to our own sphere and passing by ages in its formation, we reach the highest form of distinctive character in 14 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. its inorganic development when the crystal first makes its ap-pearance. Now, we first have a clear and substantial prophesy of those higher forms of individuality which are to follow. Each crystal has a well defined and a generally symmetrical form. Under the action of the crystalizing force, it may take up new materials and rebuild itself, a property commonly at-tributed only to organic forms. But who shall trace further the course from the greatest in the kingdom of the inorganic to the least in the kingdom of the organic ? Indeed La Conte tells us that "conditions necessary for so extraordinary a change could hardly be expected to occur but once in the history of the earth." Thus far, we have traced a great impulse leading from unity to individual forms; now, we would look at the more complex outgrowth as we find individuality developed by the throb of life. Following nature then in her continuous course, which we may so nearly yet not clearly establish at this point, we note that she starts on her more perfect individualization by the forming of a cell. Now, for the first time, a formation of na-ture has the capacity to perpetuate itself. Too much stress cannot be laid upon this advance from, or as scientists would say, through the inorganic to organic forms, in nature's develop-ment towards the more complex existence. The fundamental properties of life, assimilation, growth and reproduction, are now active, and it is but a question of time till these cells multiply and are organized under different environments into the intri-cate forms of plant and animal life. The next great step in the evolution of complex individuality is achieved in the gain of sentient power. It were indeed a difficult task to form any sharp distinction between the awaken-ing animal sentiency and the sensitiveness of some plants. But, in the animal world we find sensitiveness specialized and developed in and with more or less acute nervous organization to the resultant varying degrees of animal intelligence. From the lower forms of animal life, where nature seems to care not for the individual but only for the species, we find her interest THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 15 apparently increasing with the advance in sentiency. All things seem to work together for good to the individual, as we ascend the scale of animal intelligence. And finally, after a seeming perfection has been reached in the physical organiza-tion of the individual, this sentient energy continues to advance and develop in complexity. But, now having considered two phases of the vast move-ment to individuality, you may wonder what all this has to do with personality. It will have either little or much to do, ac-cording as we accept the "supernatural descent of mind into matter, or the theory of its natural ascent through the develop-ment of matter." Incidentally, I may say, that though in some circles the Creator is still grudged his own universe, yet, the thoughtful naturalist finds as much manifestation of divine power and wisdom in the controlling and gradual evolution of forces, as in their terrestrial introduction by special creative acts, breaking in upon the continuity of the universe. If we accept the modern scientific hypothesis of evolution, the steps just traced are of vital importance. For somewhere in this great movement toward the perfection of individual types, must have gradually evolved a part so far transcending "dying nature's earth and lime" as to admit of no comparison or analogy with this baser foil of its glory. In the words of Newman Smyth, the scientist regards personality as "a specialization of a spirit-ual element and energy which was in the beginning and which has ever been pressing to revelation throughout the whole evolution." So, rather than pick up an uncertain thread from its midst, we have traced from the beginning this vast process of the ages, this propagation of a mighty impulse, to its con-summation in personality. What an elevated position do we, then, as persons, hold in this grand upward moyement through formative cycles ! For, "now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be." Who can believe that this implanted image of the Creator shall be consigned eternally to its native dust, or who shall say that the travail of the ages has been for a be-ing whose days are as the grass, as a flower of the field ? ■ *fl! 16 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY'. Shall the dissolution of our earthy frame, which has long since become subject to the higher power within, mean the cessation of the mighty evolution, which has made us persons, or shall we not, giving dust to dust, free these personalities from every weight which doth so easily beset them, and continue the "rand march of time amid celestial harmonies ? THE PHILOSOPHERS. They are presumptuous systems that we raise To compass life's last miracle and frame The glory with its source, forging a name Exhaustive of the meaning of our days. Is there no peace among sweet finite ways— No rest forever from the inward flame Of troubled question over chance or aim, Real and unreal, and what's to blame or praise ? Can we not wait, patient with life'awhile, Somewhat content to speak the given word, Go the appointed way, and ask no more— Then, if the work be done, with quiet smile, When in our darkened house the voice is heard, Pass silently with Death through the last door?—Ex. ' ■ ' *ft-lm't *-. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 17 A CHARACTER SKETCH OF CECIL RHODES. ABDKI. R. WENTZ, '04. ALMOST a year has elapsed since the death of Cecil Rhodes, familiarly known as the South African "Colos-sus," and the press has not yet ceased to publish discussions of the man's character. Few had more zealous friends; none have had more bitter enemies. And yet his most devoted friends found in his character some undesirable traits, and his most positive enemies recognized some merit. It will be in-teresting, therefore, to attempt to understand his real character and to ascertain the moral of his marvelous career. Cecil Rhodes was born in 1853, in Hertfordshire, England, in the impecunious condition of the younger son of a country parson. He was unaided by birth, fortune, or any other outside agency. From his parents he received no position, no money, nothing except clean and gentle breeding. His early life at home and at grammar school afforded no indication of genius. It was intended that he should enter the ministry and so he was sent to Oxford University. But a decline in health was soon noticed and his physicians confidently foretold his death of con-sumption. In the hope of prolonging his life for a few years he went to South Africa where his older brother was living. For a while he assisted his brother in diamond-digging, but he soon went into the industry for himself and great success attended him. In the meantime his health was greatly im-proved by the pure, dry air of the African veldt and he was able, both financially and physically, to return to Oxford during the dry summer months and continue his course of study. This he did year by year, always returning to South Africa in the Fall, and finally in 1881, nine years after he had matricu-lated, he was graduated from the University. By this time he had laid the foundation for a large fortune in South Africa. He succeeded in having the law repealed which provided that one person could hold only one diamond claim. The new law permitted a man to hold ten claims, and it was soon discovered 18 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. that Rhodes held ten. This new law was also repealed after a short time. Then began the speculation in buying and selling claims, and presently he found himself one of three interests con-trolling the entire diamond field. And this number soon dimin-ished to two. Then came the amalgamation, with Cecil Rhodes as the amalgamator, and the colossal De Beers Diamond Min-ing Company as the product. By this he was enabled to create a monopoly, control the diamond market, and amass his millions. In this respect he was the forerunner of J. P. Mor-gan. The next step in his wonderful career was to enter the Parliament of Cape Colony. He soon became the most pow-erful man in the politics of South Africa; and this distinction he continued to enjoy until his death on March 26, last. In order to understand the motive which actuated his won-derful career it may be well to consider for a moment the course of reasoning by which he determined what should be the aim of his life. In the course of his studies in Greek at Oxford University he chanced upon Aristotle's definition of virtue as the "highest activity of the soul living for the highest object in. a perfect life." This he interpreted to mean that every person should have an object in life sufficiently lofty to make it worth while to spend a lifetime in the endeavor to ob-tain it. The object had not yet been determined in his own life, and so he began to reason with himself in the endeavor to find the aim sufficiently lofty to justify him in dedicating his life to it. First he considered the matter of accumulating wealth. But what is wealth ? From the experience of the men about him who had made the amassing of wealth the chief aim of their lives he concluded that wealth as an end in itself was only a source of care and anxiety. People spend part of their lives in making money and the rest in taking care of it. This, Rhodes decided, could not by any means justify the expendi-ture of one's life. Then he considered politics. But what is the highest round in the political ladder? In his case it was the premiership of Cape Colony. And what sort of life is that of a premier ? Now THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 19 in office and now out; constantly dependent upon the good will of the voters. Surely, this was not the proper goal for his life. Then he turned to religion. He had always admired the career of Ignatius Loyola. But then Rhodes felt that he could scarcely accept any religious creed. Every excavation in Pal-estine revealed some new fact which to him seemed to prove the Bible untrue. The Catholic beliefs came nearest to his, but he was sure there was no hell, and how then could he devote his life to serving the Catholic Church ? So he concluded that religion was not to be the field of his life work. Then he went deeper. In religious views he was decidedly agnostic. He always held that there was a 50-per-cent chance that there is a God. So he continued his reasoning thus: "If there be a God, of which there is 50-per cent chance, it is all-important that I should do what he would have me do." Then again, "If there be a God, and if he is concerned at all about what I do, it is safe to say that he would have me do what he himself is doing, to propagate his own work." From this arose the question, "What is God doing ?" Then he set about discovering the divine plan. In the first place the divine plan whatever it is must be universal. God cares for all. Whatever instrument he is using therefore must be in-fluencing the whole race of man. Now Rhodes was a strict believer in the Darwinian theory of evolution. He believed in the survival of the most capable species. And in the pro-cess of perfecting the race of man by the elimination of the least capable, he recognized the "struggle for existence" as the instrument of the divine Ruler. And in the struggle for exist-ence the white race, beyond a doubt, had been the most cap-able. Moreover, taking as standards of human perfection, the three great principles of Justice, Liberty, and Peace, he unhesi-tatingly concluded that it is the English-speaking race that is most likely to secure universal justice, all-pervading liberty, and world-wide peace, if these are to be secured at all. And the conclusion of the long train of reasoning was "that the highest practical idea was to work for the unity of the English-speaking 20 THE GETTVSBUKG MERCURY. race, in order that, being united, it might extend over all the world the beneficent influence which this race exercised for Justice, Liberty, and Peace among the inhabitants of this planet." This, then, was the guiding principle of his life—internation-al amity and the unity of the English-speaking race. And Rhodes thought that in order to wield any considerable influ-ence in that direction, he must have wealth. "What is the use," he said, "of having grand projects if you lack the money to back them ?" and so he proceeded to acquire wealth, solely with a view to extending the British Empire and thus the Eng-lish- speaking race. His money was never spent for selfish ends. His personal needs could have been covered by a clerk's income. Though king of the diamond mines, he never wore a single one of the precious gems upon his person. He never changed the simple tastes which he had acquired at the coun-try parsonage. He was unconventional to the extreme. As prime minister of Cape Colony he wore the worst hat in the as-sembly. His aristocratic friends in London were compelled to be ashamed of him when he visited them. True, he had a fine house, but it was for the entertainment of others. He never had many fancy pictures; not because he could not appreciate the art, but because he considered the money spent uselessly. "I could build so many miles of railroad for such a picture," he would say. And so it was in all his financial relations; his money was to be used solely upon the object for which he was living. To him nothing seemed more abhorrent than the clogged and impotent discomfort of the ordinary millionaire. He considered it a positive injustice for a man to leave his chil-dren so much money as to enable them to go through the world with folded arms. His life-aim required money for its accomplishment, and for that reason he amalgamated the diamond out-put of the world, thus arming himself with the chosen weapon of the day. Moreover, Rhodes realized that political influence would help him to obtain his life-object. He entered the Parliament of Cape Colony and was soon raised to the highest office in the THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 21 Cape government, the premiership. This influence he began to wield to the end that "as much of the map of Africa as possi-ble might be painted British red," as he himself put it. Terri-tories, one after the other, were added to British dominion. It is true, too true, that the means which he used to bring about these results were in many cases questionable. Even his most admiring friends are compelled to admit that he was unscrupu-lous in his methods. He knew no code of political morals. He did not hesitate to do anything which would help bring about the object for which he was spending his life. He wanted to extend the British empire, and to this end he bent all his en-ergies, whether by deceiving the ignorant Boers or by juggling the laws of the different governments. And it has been calcu-lated that he carried the British flag over a territory nearly as great in extent as British India. But there was one great hindrance to the carrying out of Rhodes' idea of a confederated South Africa, and that was the existence of the two independent Dutch republics known as the the Orange River Free State and the Transvaal. Accordingly he began to form deep-laid plans to bring them under British dominion. The notorious Jameson raid was the result. The facts of the raid, to be brief, are these : A large mining popu-lation composed in great part of foreigners had gathered in those districts. In order to overthrow the Dutch government and acquire the country, Rhodes had his agents to build up secret organizations among the foreigners in Johannesburg, the capital city of the Transvaal. It was planned that upon an appointed day these foreigners, or "Uitlanders" as the Boers called them, should cause an uprising under some feigned pre-text and precipitate a revolt against the government. The Uitlanders were to be assisted from the outside by the invasion of a small body of troops under the command of Dr. Jameson, Rhodes' right-hand man. It is a well-known fact that the raid failed. The Boers were apprised of the plot; the foreigners refused at the last moment to act and Jameson and his men were ignominiously captured by the Boers. It was this Jameson raid which precipitated the Boer war, so disastrous to all par-ties concerned. 22 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. This was the turning-point in Cecil Rhodes' career. The Boers, among whom he had been very popular previous to the raid, and by whose votes he had become premier, now became his bitterest enemies; for he had betrayed them. The English government renounced all connection with Rhodes. The whole world called it an outrage. He was compelled to resign the premiership, and it is said that his friends noticed that in a few days following the failure of the raid his hair became whiter and the lines about his mouth and eyes deepened. This was the one gross blunder of his life, the one dark spot upon his character which to some seems so dark as to cover with a shadow the better qualities of the man. Cecil Rhodes was a millionaire with an imagination ; he did not hold his money-bags on his head and allow them to crush out his brains. He was philosophic and reflective in mind ; and in his entire foreign policy his strength and victory lay in his vision of what the other side desired and how they hoped to achieve it. He was a great reader although he did not have a very large library. One of his favorite books was Gibbon's "Decline and Fall," and this probably gave him many thoughts upon his life-aim. In Parliament he was a very effective speaker but not what we would call eloquent. He was a lover of natural scenery, as is shown by the selection of the sites of his buildings and of his burying place. His remains are en-tombed in the midst of picturesque mountain scenery. In the will of this great man we see again his immense wide-ness of view. His bequest of $10,000,000 to Oxford Univer-sity has provoked much discussion here in America. But it is not the bequest which concerns us so much as the conditions which the bequeather attaches to it. The will provides that the $ 10,000,000 shall be applied to scholarships apportioned as follows: Two to each of the self-governing colonies of Great Britain, five to Germany, and two to each State or Ter-ritory in the United States. The will also provides for a very unique method of choosing the students, and states that the object of the scholarships is to educate together the future leaders of the three great countries, and thus "secure the peace of the world." It is not necessary to consider here whether THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 23 the scholarships will really secure "the peace of the world," nor yet whether they will probably benefit America or not. We need but to note the largeness of the scale upon which Cecil Rhodes laid his plans. He thought in continents; and this is only one of the many schemes which he devised to bring about his favorite idea of the unity of the English-speaking race. Rhodes always felt that life was too short to achieve much ; he was too eager to see his objects accomplished. And his last words were, "So much to do ; so little done." Surely few men present such great complexity of character. He was "ruthless in the pursuit of gain, and caring nothing for gold ; cursed as the cause of the war, yet looking to the reign of universal peace." To some he is known as the author of the South African war, the plunderer of inferior races, and the personifi-cation of greed ; to others, as a poet who confined his energies to deeds. By some he is called the Napoleon of South Africa; by others, the South African Colossus. Whatever can be said concerning Cecil Rhodes, it must be admitted that he pro-duced a lasting impression upon the world's destinies. 24 THE GETTVSBURG MERCURY. SALAMIS AND PROGRESS. BERTRAM STROHMEIER, '06. TTpROM the earliest dawn of history, even from the ages *■ shrouded in the gloom and mist of antiquity, now being rescued from oblivion through the discovery of broken inscrip-tions, and crumbled cities, even to the present day, down the . centuries has flowed almost unceasingly a crimson flood fed by a myraid of battlefields. Mars has revelled to his heart's con-tent in his infernal sport. And when we consider the useless carnage and frightful slaughter that has followed men's differ-ences in oftentimes trivial affairs, it would seem that some treacherous spirit does stir up men's hellish passions just to ap-pease an ungovernable desire. But here and there dropped in the path of Time, unwittingly and unrecognized at fir^t, we find a battle, that in the light of subsequent events proved a boon to mankind, and marked an epoch in the progress of civilization—a battle terrible as a thunder-storm, yet, like iti grand, awe-inspiring, even sublime—a battle not between men alone nor yet between nations, but a struggle between ideas and principles—a battle not for one man, nor for one people; not for one age; but a battle for all people, for all time. Salamis was such a battle. As Balboa paused on the mountain height to recover from his great astonishment, and to take in and more fully under-stand the panorama that suddenly burst upon his vision, when first he beheld the calm Pacific, before plunging down the rockyway to plant the flag of Spain in its waters, so let us pause and take in the historical panorama before entering into the consideration of this world famed battle. Persia is the all-supreme ruler of the East. One by one the proud Oriental kings have bowed the knee to her conquering despot, until for further conquest he has been compelled to send his triumphant legions into far away India on the one side, and to cross the Caucasian limits of his empire on the other and strike terror to the Scythian hordes. From North, South, East In an up-to-P^J CHORUS. — U-pI-dee-l-dee-l-da 1 etc. Her voice is clear as a soaring lark's, And her wit is like those trullev-car sparks I When 'cross a muddy street she ilits, The buys ;;d h^ve conniption fits I The turn of her head turns all ours, too. There's always a strife to si: in her pew; 'Tis enough to make n parson drunk, To hear her sing; old co-ca-che-luuk! m j. The above, and three other NEW verses to U-P1-DEH, 1,, rJf/IT and NEW WORDS, catchy, uu-to-date, to many f*pe- ii TT ^\y},[ sides OLD FAVOK ■ TBS ; and also many NEW SONGS. Jik> SONGS OF ALL THE COLLEGES. Wtf m\Copjrrlgln, Price, S/.JO, postpaid. m ILUU HINDS & NOiSLE, Publishers, New York buy. 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You will find a full line of Pure Drugs and Fine Stationery at the People's Drug Store Prescriptions a specialty. WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. The Pleased Customer is not a stranger in our estab-lishment— he's right at home, you'll see him when you call. We have the materials to please fastidious men. J. D. LIPPY, lXEe:xe;laa.rit Tailor, 29 Chambersburg Street, GETTYSBURG, PA. CITY HOTEL, Main Street, - Gettysburg, Pa. Free 'Bus to an from all trains. Thirty seconds' walk from either depot. Dinner with drive over field with four or more, $1.35. Rates, $1.50 to $2.00 per Day. Livery connected. Rubber-tire buggies a specialty. John E. Hughes, Prop. THE PHOTOGRAPHER Now in new Studio 20 and 22 Chambersburg Street, Gettysburg, Pa. One of the Sliest modern lights in the country. CMS. E. BARBEHEHK, THE EACLE HOTEL IB-^-I^IBDBie Corner Main and Washington Sts. Drag Stope, 36 Baltlmope St. HOT AND COLD SODA AND CAMERA SUPPLIES w 3 Op 43 0> O 0 (A ii *

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Open Access#971975

Review for Religious - Issue 34.5 (September 1975)

Issue 34.5 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Revtew ]or Rehgtous ts edited by faculty members of the School of DIvlmty of St Louts University, the edttorlal ol~ces bemg located at 612 Humboldt Buddmg, 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. S!ngle copies: $1.75. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years (for airmail delivery, add $5.00 per year). Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming .to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former ad~ciress. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Galicn, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor September 1975 Volume 34 Number 5 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. / ;" ~: :°~Vith these ,words Po o ~t only for Jesmts,~but-~f6r all~rehg~ous;~ )s wh6, .in ~varyingways, ~dentff, y:.o. 671 A Survey of the Thirty-second General Congregation John R. Sheets, S.J. Fr. Sheets, chairman of the theology department of Creighton University and director of its new Masters Degree in Christian Spirituality program, was an elected delegate of his province (Wisconsin) at the 32nd General Congregation. He resides at Creighton University; 2500 Califor-nia St.; Omaha, NB 68178. The Thirty-second General Congregation of the Society of Jesus began on December 2, 1974. It finished its work on March 7, 1975. The Holy See authorized the promulgation of its decrees on May 2, 1975. In this article I will attempt to set down in an intelligible way a description of what went on during those ninety-six days, especially for (hose who are not Jesuits but who are in-terested in the congregation. Having gone over once again both the official documents and the Acta of the congregation, and having tried to recapture.my own experience over those days, I feel keenly the limitations of what follows. In the first place, it is difficult to give a survey of the vast amount of material covered by the various commissions;-secondly, it is hard to detail my own ex-perience without writing an autobiography; thirdly, it would take someone with both a sense of historical detail and a journalistic flair to present the in-terplay that took place among the various identifiable groups within the con-gregation, and also what took place between the Vatican and the congregation. In spite of these reservations, I hope that the observations that follow might provide some insight into what happened, and at the same time provide a counterweight to impressions given to the public through the general press. For me personally the congregation was the peak experience of my life. I am still trying to sort out the reasons for this. There is the obvious fact of hav-ing been part of a decision-making body whose decrees could have momentous importance for the Societ), of Jesus and for the Church at a very critical mo- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 673 ment in history. Again there was the experience of being "companions in the Lord" with two hundred and thirty-six other Jesuits from all over the world, united in the same Ignatian vision, sharing a common purpose, praying and working together to formulate with the help of the Holy Spirit responses to what the Church and the world ask of the Society today. The "honeymoon experience" of the first days gave way, as the weeks went on, to the .experience of fatigue, the perplexities of the search for the proper wording, the experience of working on disparate problems at the same time, without any clear point of convergence. Added to these was the experience of the interaction between the Vatican and the congregation which brought with it great anguish. However, it was also perhaps the experience that changed the congregation from a group of planners relying much on our own wisdom into something approximating an instrument of the Holy Spirit. The whole experience of the congregation in many ways paralleled what a person goes through in making the Spiritual Exercises, where one is subject to the movement of different spirits. On the one hand, it was the occasion of the greatest consolation; on the other, 1 have never in my life experienced such heaviness of heart. There were moments when one could almost feel the presence of the Holy Spirit, particularly at the concelebrated liturgies where one was drawn into the mystery of the communio jesuitarum, both the living and the dead, ~hrough our sharing in the Eucharist. Certainly the con-celebrated Mass, celebrated on the opening day of the congregatiofi in the Gesu, a church hallowed by the memories of Ignatius, Xavier and the early history of the Society, with seven hundred Jesuits participating, was one such moving experience. But if there were consolations, there were also periods of desolation, the worst desolation I have ever experienced. These came from the pall of uncer-tainty cast over the congregation from the communications of the Holy Father through Cardinal Villot in reference to the way the congregation had proceeded on a particular point concerning the Fourth Vow in the Society. This was also the occasion for the Holy Father to remark with pain that he detected from the Acta of the congregation attitudes among the delegates which were at variance with the kind of disposition a Jesuit should have toward the Pope. To be frank, however, it was not so much the interventions of the Holy Father that depressed me. In fact, as events would show, he was under the im-pression that we had received a specific communication on the subject that he had given to one of the delegates to be transmitted to us. But because of a mis-understanding the delegate did not in fact communicate it, and the congrega-tion learned about it only after we had taken a step which seemed to con-travene directly the explicit instruction of the Holy Father. To me the tone of his and Cardinal Villot's letter, while severe, was comprehensible in the light of this misunderstanding on the communication of their earlier message. What was far more upsetting was the sudden change in the mental climate of the congregation. Somewhere Kierkegaard mentions that the sudden is the 1574 / Review for, Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 category of the demonic. In the course of only minutes, the demon of rumor, suspicion and recrimination was let loose. Suddenly it all fitted into a kind of master plot to discredit Fr. Arrupe, bring about his resignation, and bring to nothing the efforts of the congregation. No one knew who the enemies were, but some gave the impression that there was one hiding behind every column in the Vatican. Among the memories which will always be with me are the occasions when I used to walk in St. Peter's Square at night, when it was deserted, except for a police car and a few pa~sers-by. The majestic beauty of the facade of St. Peter's, bathed by the light of the moon, the beauty of the fountains flashing in the lights, the Vatican apartments with a light here and there, formed a setting of peace which seemed to overflow into me, particularly when events occurred which plunged the congregation into gloom. Looking back over those difficult periods I am certain that if it were not for the example and leadership of Fr. Arrupe we would have lost courage. He transmitted to us both by word and example a sense of the working of God's providence and the life-through-death process in which we were engaged. We were faced with the humbling and humiliating fact that we experts who were supposed to discern the signs of the times could not discern a sign that was much closer to us. In many ways the misunderstandings did not "have to be," when one looks at them from a human point of view. The reports from the press about con-frontation, maneuver and counter-maneuver were the product of journalistic imagination. The sad fact is that pain was caused by people who were trying their utmost to act with responsibility to the Holy Father and to the Society. But I have probably got ahead of myself. All I wanted to do in these in-troductory remarks was to point out that for me personally the experience of those three months led by the diverse paths of joy and anguish to a deeper ex-perience of the ways of God, that "If Yahweh does not build the house, in vain the masons toil." The Procedure Followed in the Business of the Congregation In preparation for this congregation there had been four years of highly organized participation on the level of the local communities and the provinces. The extent of this participation varied. In general, however, it had a beneficial result in creating the awareness that this congregation would grow out of the discernment that took place on the local level rather than work from the top down. Perhaps some might consider that this was a waste of time and money when we measure the results of those years of preparation, and the little impact that it had directly on the congregation. However, the minimal result of this preparation was that at least we did not come into the work of the congregation cold, but had some awareness of the problems that confront us, as there were seen by a large segment of the Society. For those who are not familiar with the structure of the Society of Jesus, a few words of explanation may be helpful. In the Society of Jesus the supreme A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 675 authority is vested in the General Congregation. It does not meet at regular in-tervals, but only on two occasions, either to elect a new superior general, or to face a particular state of affairs which can be handled only by the highest authority of the Society. Of the thirty-two congregations that have met in the four hundred and thirty-five years of the Society's history, all except seven have been called to elect a new superior general. When, therefore, in 1970 Fr. Arrupe decided to call a General Congregation to convene after appropriate preparation, he felt that the state of the Society needed to be reviewed. It was an opportune time, since ten years would have elapsed since Vatican II and our last congregation. Delegates to a General Congregation are basically of two kinds: the provincial superiors, who attend by right of office, who make up ap-proximately one-third of the membership of a congregation and the other two-thirds who are elected. The only delegates who were unable to attend the 32nd General Congregation were a few from behind the Iron Curtain. Their unoc-cupied desks remained an ever-present symbol to the assembly of the oppres-sion of the Church in various areas. In spite of these absences, there were two hundred thirty-six delegates present. In the Society of Jesus the agenda is made up after the congregation con-venes. It is based mainly on the postulates (requests) submitted either from in-dividual Jesuits or provinces. Contrary to what one might suspect, there is probably no more democratic legislative group than is to be found in the General Congregation. Any Jesuit can send in postulates either through his province or directly, as an individual to the General Congregation. All of these are considered on their merits independently of their source. Over one thousand postulates were submitted. After a preliminary analysis, it was seen that they could be organized according to ten categories. Ten commissions were set up roughly corresponding to these ten categories. Initially the commissions had a membership of about twenty-five each, com-posed of representatives from different parts of the Society. Later, for the sake of efficiency in composing the documents emerging from the commissions, the number was reduced to four or five. The amount of work that went into the final draft of the documents was enormous. The work of the commission would be submitted to the whole assembly, receive revisions (or even be re-jected), be returned to the commission; then again be submitted to the assembly, with a repetition of the same procedm:e, until the assembly was satisfied with it. The whole assembly convened in a large hall that had been especially renovated for the congregation. Electronic equipment was installed to provide simultaneous translation. Voting was done by means of a small switch at each desk. In the front of the hall in full view of all the delegates was a large elec-tronic board, with indicator lights arranged accordihg to the seating plan in the hail. This board registered the votes with a green light if affirmative or a red, if negative. At the top of the board was a place where the total affirmative and negative vote would register immediately after the vote was taken. All ~'~' ~ ~.~. 676;~ R~i~.w for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 voting~'~bhe exception," was public. The exception came at the request of the congregatiori ~hen it came to vote on the question of grades in the Society. Doubtless this pr0ce.dure was intended to provide the general with the oppor-tunity to vote in a way that would not compromise him in whatever future ac-tions he would have to take.as a result of the vote. The Main Themes Seventeen documents issued from the congregation, most of them originating from the ten commissions which had been established. Other documents came from special commissions appointed as the need arose. Though the documents differ in content, some common themes run throughout. Perhaps the main theme reflected in the documents is that of mission. Related to this is a reawakened awareness of the Society as a whole, of which the local communities are part. The Society, while it exists also for the sanc-tification of its members, takes its special meaning from its apostolic orienta-tion. This apostolic orientation is specified by its relationship to the Holy See, particularly through the Fourth Vow, and in its service to the Church through the promotion and defense of the faith. A characteristic of this apostolic orienta-tion is adaptability to the needs of particular times and places. In our day this involves an overriding concern to overcome the injustices which oppress so many millions of people. However, in all of its apostolic work, the goal and the means it uses are to be consistent with the tradition of the Society as set forth in its Formula of the Institute which sets forth its fundamental pontifical law. This ties in with the identity of the Society, a theme that is both the subject of one particular document and one that runs through all of the others as well. The Society is a priestly, apostolic body, bound to the Holy See in a special way for the defense and promotion of the faith. The sense of mission involves not only working with those who are op-pressed but it also involves becoming identified with them as far as this is possible. Our poverty, therefore, which has its juridical as well as evangelical aspects, takes on a particular experiential mode in so far as, by it, we can iden-tify with the poor. The decree that has to do with union of hearts and minds is also intimately related to the nature of the Society as an apostolic body. Ignatius clearly saw that the Society's apostolate depended first of all on the union of the members with God, and then derivatively on their union with one another. One theme which is conspicuous is that of repentence. The Society acknowledges that it has failed in recent years to live up to those characteristics which were suppose to distinguish it, such as obedience, loyalty to the Holy See, fidelity tO the principles of the religious life. The State of the Society One of the commissions set up early in the order of business was the one charged to examine the state of the Society. Its purpose was to form some A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 677 kind of an evaluation of the condition of the Jesuit order at this point in its history, assessing both its weaknesses and its strengths. To provide this com-mission with input, the delegates met in small groups over a period of several days. These small groups were of two kinds: what were called "assistancy groups" (for example, all of the American Jesuits belong to one "assistancy," the French to another, etc.), and "language groups," composed of people from different countries who had some facility in their own and other languages (German-English, French-English, Spanish-French, etc.) These groups dis-cussed the state of the Society in reference to key points such as formation of Jesuits, religious observance, the apostolate. These sessions broadened the practical knowledge each of us had of the Society and helped to create among us an awareness of community. They were also informative, first of all in bringing us to realize that many of the problems were common, with varying degrees of acuteness, while others were peculiar to a particular section of the Society. A criticism which many of us in the western world resonated with came from one of the German provincials in my group when he said that the image that the Society in Germany gives is that of B~rgerlichkeit, which in English connotes a comfortable, gentlemanly, middle-class existence. On the other hand, the situation of the Jesuits from behind the Iron Cur-tain, some of whom were also in my language group, has spared them some of the enervating effects of secularization. For one reason, their apostolate, where they are able to exercise it, is mostly pastoral work; secondly, their precarious existence serves to keep their faith at a high level of vitality. The delegates from the Third World countries brought other emphases. From the Spanish speaking countries there was a strong orientation toward social change, bringing with it problems of political involvement and the degree to which such involvement could subscribe to an ideology which often had Marxist overtones. In other regions, such as Africa, Indonesia and the Far East, one of the main problems is "inculturation," embodying the faith and the spirit of the Society in forms peculiar to their own cultures. As part of this evaluation on the state of the Society, Fr. General himself gave a picture of the way he sees the Society at the present, as a body which is very much alive, but with certain illnesses. He also gave a detailed description of his own relationship with the Holy See and the other officials in the Vatican, providing afterwards an opportunity for the delegates to question or discuss any of the points he had brought up. The document on the state of the Society which came out as a result of all this exchange is not one of the papers published to the Society. It was intended only for the delegates and their work in the congregation itself. However, the document is not in fact that useful. Its main value was in providing the oppor-tunity for the delegates to familiarize,themselves with the state of the Society through their live exchanges with one another. A document of this kind by its nature remains general, and gives little sense of the extent and import of either the positive or negative points. 671~ / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 The Work of the Commissions As was mentioned above, ten commissions were formed, more or less along the lines of the categories of material received in the postulates. While a few others later came into being and some of the original ones were changed, these ten commissions formed pretty much the working base of the Congrega-tion. Risking over-simplification, they could be divided into those which looked mainly inward, for example, about our "grades," the Fourth Vow, for-mation, final incorporation into the Society (final vows), central government, the constitution of provincial and general congregations; those which looked outward, namely, the mission of the Society today, inculturation, the service of the Society to the Church; and finally those which look both inward and outward, for example, on union of hearts, the Jesuit today. Some comments on a few of the documents might contribute to a better understanding of them. 1. The Mission of the Society Today The decree which took up the lion's share of the time, and which provided the platform for most of the rhetoric was the one that dealt with the mission of the Society today. The very nature of the topic explains why it took so long to come up with a satisfactory formulation. It involves an articulation that had to bring together the old and the new: fidelity to the essentials of the Society's apostolic nature, and coming to grips with the needs of today. While such a formulation has its own difficulties, the problem was exacer-bated by an initially one-sided approach and by the impression that some gave of using language more appropriate to political parties than to a religious group attempting to clarify its mission. The initial approach was largely horizontal, too much concentrated on the socio-economic aspects, with too lit-tle of the priestly. In the effort to make the congregation conscious of the urgency of these problems there was a tendency to absolutize what was in fact only one aspect of the Society's apostolate. One of the observations offered by Cardinal Villot in the letter in which he com-municated the Pope's authorization to promulgate the work of the congregation pertains to this decree. He stresses an important point, which is already present in the decree, but which deserves emphasis, namely, that the total work of evangelization has a comprehen-sion that cannot be reduced to working for social justice, and secondly that there is a priestly way of working for social justice that is distinct from the proper role of the laity. No one can judge from the final document how much work went into it. If one were tothink of a carpenter shop filled with shavings, and one tiny cabinet to show for the work, the comparison would be apt. The final decree, though somewhat diffuse, manages to relate the fundamental apostolic orientation of the Jesuit life as a priestly order to the promotion of faith which in the real-life situation is inseparable from the promotion of justice. 2. Poverty The. subject of poverty has continued to bedevil our recent congregations. A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation ] 679 As everyone knows, there are two main aspects to what is called religious poverty: the juridical and the evangelicalwor the personal appropriation of the values of evangelical poverty. The decree on poverty, probably the most im-portant document to come out of the congregation, has two parts, the first be-ing more inspirational and exhortatory, while the second is juridical, setting down a basic reform in the structures of our institutional practice of poverty. It is not possible to enter into the technicalities of the juridical part of the decree since it presupposes some knowledge of the structure of the Society. Suffice it to say that the decree formulates what is, to my mind, a creative way of realizing for our own times the Ignatian ideal of poverty, taking into con-sideration the different socio-economic conditions of the twentieth and six-teenth centuries. On the personal side, frugality, the sense of being part of the kenotic mystery of Christ, dependence on the community, and identification with the poor are stressed. in his letter, Cardinal Villot makes two points concerning this decree. After commenting on the fact that the Holy Father was aware of the immense amount of work that had gone into this decree, which attempts to relate the traditional practice of poverty in the Society to the needs of our times, he says that considering the newness of the approach, it would be better to promulgate the decree ad experimentum, to be reviewed in the next General Congregation. He also cautions that the decree should not jeopardize the Society's traditional approach to gratuity of ministries. 3. Grades and the Fourth Vow No other subject discussed by the congregation received as much attention from the press as that of our "grades" and the Fourth Vow. As I remarked above, the delegates had proceeded in a spirit of obedience to the Holy Father's wishes, but in the spirit of Ignatian obedience which allows represen-tation of one's case to the superior, with full openness, however, to the final decision of the superior. But, as I mentioned above, the delegates were not aware of an important communication from the Holy Father which he had given to one of the officials manifesting his mind clearly on the topic. We were made aware of this special communication only after we had proceeded in good faith to take up the question, and to give an "indicative" votewone that is not definitive, but from which it is possible to infer the mind of the delegates. The indicative vote was overwhelmingly in favor of abolishing grades. One can imagine the consternation of the Holy Father when he read of the results of this in the Acta, a copy of which he received regularly, especially when he learned that we had not been given his specific directive on this matter which had been communicated to one of the officials of the congregation. This unfortunate series of events precipitated a strong response from the Vatican. First there was a letter from Cardinal Villot in the name of the Holy Father expressing his consternation at the proceedings. Later there was a letter from the Holy Father himself, tin which he expressed his wonderment, pain, disappointment. What the delegates found particularly difficult to understand in Cardinal Viilot's letter was the strong language used about the failure of Fr. Arrupe to exercise the proper kind of leadership that could have headed off this series of unfortunate events. I~1~0 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 While the delegates were still reeling from this unexpected turn of events, they learned of the directive that had been given by Cardinal Villot to one of the officials to be given to the congregation. The official explained before the whole congregation that he had not understood that he was supposed to transmit this directive to the delegates in any official way. This was a costly mistake. Yet in some ways I think it was a felix culpa because of the benefits which came out of it, as I shall comment below. At this point I should say something about the meaning of the grades and the Fourth Vow for those unfamiliar with the Society's structure and legisla-tion. When the idea of the Society was evolving in the mind and experience of Ignatius, one of the features that emerged was a conception of having membership in the Society on different levels, or "grades." For those with their final vows, there were to be three levels or grades. First of all, there are the "solemnly professed," with solemn vows of poverty, chastity, obedience, and a Fourth Vow of special obedience to the Holy Father in regard to mis-sions, that is, apostolic commissions. In the past one hundred years about 40% of Jesuit priests have belonged to this grade. In the mind of Ignatius the professed were supposed to exemplify to a special degree what he looked for in every Jesuit, proficiency in learning, a high degree of virtue, mobility, a life supported only by free-will offerings, exemplifying in their lives a similar relationship to the Vicar of Christ that the disciples showed toward Christ Himself. In addition, key positions in government were reserved to the professed, such as the office of provincial. Again, only the professed could take part in a General Congregation. In the second place, there were priests whose final vows were simple, not solemn. Without going into detail on the differences between solemn and sim-ple vows, it is sufficient to remark here that for one thing they differ accord-ing to the seriousness of the reasons needed for dispensation. This grade is that of "spiritual coadjutor." Members of this grade do not take the vow of special obedience to the Holy Father. In the third place, there are "temporal coadjutors" or brothers. Their final vows are also simple vows of poverty, chast.ity, and obedience. They have the same apostolic purpose as the priests, but have a different way of contributing to the realization of it. The grades are a feature that are peculiar to the Society. As one would sur-mise, the distinction has not been an unmixed blessing in the history of the Society. Though Ignatius never conceived of a Society which would have privileged and unprivileged castes, human nature being what it is, the results were predictable. Since human nature associates power with authority, the professed came to be considered as a kind of first-class type of Jesuit, and the non-professed as second-class. In recent years there has been much historical research on the origin of the ~grades. Also there has been considerable discussion whether the distinction of ~the grades was inextricably tied up with the vision of St. Ignatius, or whether it was something that with the change of times no longer served a purpose. The A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation Thirty-first General Congregation did not face the question head-on. It con-tented itself with broadening the norms by which a person could be admitted to profession. It also transmitted the final solution of the problem to the Thirty-second General Congregation. The intervention of the Holy Father did not directly concern grades. He limited himself to the question of the Fourth Vow, which he said could not be extended to non-priests. This intimates that the Holy Father was concerned not simply about a juridical division in the Society which could be changed by another law, but about a theological question concerning the relationship between the priestly identity of those who take the Fourth Vow and the mis-sions which are the direct object of the vow. Again (I am speculating) the intervention of the Holy Father might be a healthy reminder in this age of blurring all distinctions for the sake of dubious notions of equality, that differentiation in functions does not necessarily mean division. Reserving the Fourth Vow to priests helps to keep the priestly focus of the apostolic work of the Society which has characterized it from the begin-ning. This need not create first- and second-class citizens, but it could engender an awareness that there are different gifts within the same body by which the same goal is realized. 4. The Union of Hearts A commission without a name was set up as a kind of catchall to handle four topics that on the surface had little unity: the question of union and pluralism, communal discernment, religious life, and community life. Since I was a member of this commission from beginning to end, I feel more in touch with it than with the other commissions. It was a kind of a "Benjamin" com-mission compared with those set up to handle the "important" topics like mis-sion, grades, poverty, etc. Ironically, Benjamin was suddenly given an importance late in the con-gregation. The Holy Father in his intervention had commented on the fact that he had heard a lot about mission and justice, but little about renewal of the religious life, even though we had already been at it for two months. So all of a sudden the pressure was on to come up with something significant along those lines. The final document on union of hearts is a contemporary commentary, on Chapter One of Part VIII of our Constitutions, "Aids Toward the Uniori of Hearts." Under this heading the commission found a focus which could unite the various topics given to it. Much effort was spent in an attempt to formulate a clear statement on the subject of union and pluralism. Many of the postulates asked for such a state-ment, some of them stressing the harm coming from internal divisions, others emphasizing the need for a "healthy pluralism." Eventually the commission decided that a theoretical statement would not be helpful. Instead it for-mulated, along with principles on which union of hearts is based, certain prac-tical directives on prayer, community life, sacraments, and communal discern-ment. 682 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 The subject of communal discernment received a lot of discussion. Some wanted to turn it into a kind of Aladdin's lamp which could call forth some kind of a jinni. Others were more skeptical over the possibility of univer-salizing the practicableness of such a process. The final statement in the docu-ment attempts to locate communal discernment within the spectrum of various kinds of spiritual exchange within a community, not exaggerating its role, but on the other hand recognizing the value that it has when the right dispositions and circumstances are present. Incidentally about midway through the congregation, an ad hoc commis-sion was also established to see whether the congregation itself could not carry on its work through a method of communal discernment. After a couple of meetings, it dissolved, because it felt that proceeding according to a formal method of communal discernment was impractical for the congregation because of the large numbers involved and the wide range of subjects on the agenda. 5. The Jesuit Today In the light of the diversity that has appeared in Jesuit life over the past ten years, it was felt necessary to have a statement which would describe the meaning of being Jesuit today. The congregation was presented with five different papers, each of which approached the subject of Jesuit identity from different points of view. They opted for the one which now appears among the official decrees. The decree relates Jesuit identity today in a very simple way to our Igna-tian tradition, to our apostolic mission, and to the source, center, and goal of Jesuit life, which is the imitation of Christ. The Holy See and the General Congregation We have already commented on the intervention of the Holy See in regard to the subject of extending the Fourth Vow to non-priests. However, this is only an application of something which is much broader. The interest of the Holy See in this congregation is unparalleled in the whole history of the Society. Perhaps this comes from the fact that Pope Paul had a keen sense of its importance for the Society and for the Church itself. I have just finished once again going over the papal documents, beginning with the letter written to Fr. Arrupe on September 15, 1973, which the Holy Father wrote after Fr. General had announced the convening of the General Congregation, and concluding with the covering letter which was added to the approbation of the decrees. There is one theme running through all of these communications: the necessity of being faithful to the distinctive nature of the Society as it is expressed in the Formula of the Institute, a distinctiveness which has proved its fruitfulness over hundreds of years of experience. Specifically, the Society is described time and time again as a priestly apostolic order, with a special bond of obedience to the Holy See. There is, to be sure, a stress on the need to adapt to the needs of our times, but such adap- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation I 683 tation must always maintain the essentials as these are to be found in the For-mula. 1 Pope Paul wrote of his concern for the Society not only as the Vicar of Christ who has responsibility for the whole Church, but in terms which, unless I am mistaken, are unprecedented in the history of this relationship between the Society and the Holy See. He speaks of himself as the one who has the chief responsibility for the preservation of the Formula of the Institute, "supremus 'Formulae Instituti' fideiussor," and the chief protector and preserver of the Formula, "Formulae Instituti supremus tutor ac custos." It would not be true to say that all of the delegates responded with un-qualified enthusiasm to the interventions of the Holy Father. Though all recognized his right in abstracto to intervene, a~nd the corresponding attitude of obedience to which we were obliged and, which all gave without contesta-tion, nevertheless when the interventions came in this particular way, with these particular words and in this particular timing, there were signs of ruffled feelings. In case anyone needed reminding, we learned in the process that the delegates as a whole, while good and responsible men, are not yet ready for canonization. However, we did see in an exemplary way the incarnation of Jesuit obedience in at least one person, Fr. Arrupe. This was not something he did just "to give good example." His whole life has been so totalized by his faith that even his perceptions pick up the reality beneath the appearance. He senses the presence of the Vicar of Christ beneath the appearance of Pope Paul. The concern of the Holy Father shown in so many ways over the past few years and in a special way through his vigilance over the activities of the con-gregation are to my way of thinking a special grace for the Society. In a way that we never planned on, the interventions of the Holy Father brought us to a level of faith we would not have reached by ourselves. It also brought us to a realization that the Society is a servant of the Church. In some small way the history of this congregation parallels the description of Peter's death, about whom our Lord said, "You will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt round you and take you where you would rather not go" (Jn 21:18). Father Arrupe I have already mentioned that if it were not for Fr. Arrupe's example and leadership the congregation would have capsized under the difficulties it ran into. He constantly called us to a vision we needed in order to see what was happening from a supernatural point of view, and in order to avoid the traps of tNot many Jesuits are aware either of the content or the importance of the Formula of the Institute. Yet, even more than the Constitutions, it is the basic rule or fundamental code of legisla-tion in the Society. It contains the results of the deliberations of Ignatius and his companions in 1539 which provided the first sketch of the Institute of the Society of Jesus. It was first approved by Paul Iil in 1540, then again by Julius 111 in 1550 in a slightly revised form. 684 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 self-pity or recrimination that were only too present. Like one of th~ prophets, he reminded us to see what was happening as coming from the hand of God, and to use it for our own purification and conversion. In a talk given to the delegates on the second day of the congregation, he spoke of the answer that we had to give to the needs of our times. It should be the foolishness of the cross by which Christ redeemed the world, which is the wisdom of God. "In the absolute foolishness of the Cross, the emptying of all things, we find the key to the ultimate solution to the problems of today." In a way we did not foresee, those words were prophetic. Again, he exercised his leadership by leaving the congregation free to follow the paths where its deliberations would take it. In its authority, the General Congregation is superior to the general. Fr. Arrupe always acted with full awareness of this fact. On occasion he would let the delegates know how he felt about certain things, not to pressure them, but in order to make this part of the input of their deliberations. The congregation showed its appreciation of his leadership over the past ten year,s in many ways. There are few who have had to pilot a ship through such a stormy period. The burden has not been easy. But there is always evi-dent in him the same buoyancy and infectious joy that somehow puts him in touch with the Stillpoint that is beyond, above, beneath the storm. Yet, while realizing his outstanding qualities, the delegates did not apotheosize Fr. Arrupe. They realized that with all of his gifts there were also limitations. In fact, the decree which set up a council for the general was framed mainly to supply the kind of help which might balance out the one-sidedness of some of his gifts. Differences Between This Congregation and the Previous Ones The Thirty-second (2ongregati0n had many characteristics which made it very different from any preceding General Congregation. Some of the more important ones might be the following. As was mentioned above, there was a four-year period of preparation for this congregation which was unprecedented. Similarly a few months before the actual opening day a special preparatory commission met to organize the material. This was the first General Congregation where, from the start, traditional rules of secrecy were lifted, except for the prohibition against making public either the names of delegates who spoke on the different questions, or the tally of the votes. Five Jesuit journalists were given free access to the meetings. They published a report about every week that kept the Society informed of the progress of affairs. In this Congregation for the first time the voices of the Third World were not only heard in larger numbers, but they showed a vitality that added zest to the meetings. However, even among these voices there were different accents. All of them were keenly aware of the injustices which oppress their peoples by reason of the exploitation of the capitalistic countries. However, the Spanish- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 685 speaking delegates tended to stress political and social involvement; the Africans continually reminded us of the need for the sense of the transcendent, the specifically God-and-Christ-centered nature of our apostolate; and those from the Far East, while keeping these same perspectives, also stressed the need for approaches that were directed both toward personal conversion and change of the structures. No other congregation has met at a period when there has been such a crisis in vocations. Over the past ten years, the Society has diminished from about 36,000 to 30,000 members. While in some places the number of novices has begun to pick up again, the overall picture remains dim. In 1965 there were 1902 novices compared to 705 in 1974. In the United States there are about 200 novices, showing a slight increase over the past few years. In some coun-tries, however, the picture is dismal. Spain, for example, had 269 novices in 1965. In 1974 it had only 30. Germany had 114 in 1965. At present it has about 30. Similar figures could be given for France, Belgium, Holland, Italy. When one compares the number of scholastics presently in their training with the number of priests engaged in apostolic work, there is only one scholastic for every five priests. This will seriously change the scope of our apostolic work over the next fifty years. Another unique factor was the everpresent concern of the Holy See in regard to the preparation for the congregation, the things taken up, and the final results, as I have mentioned above. The theme was repeated over and over again: be faithful to yourselves, especially to your identity as it is ex-pressed in your Formula of the Institute. The only specific feature which was singled out in the expressions of this concern was fidelity to the lgnatian idea of the Fourth Vow, both positively in the fact that it should be a vital factor in the life of the Society, and negatively in that it should not be extended to non-priests. Again, the fact of asking the congregation to submit its decrees to the Holy See for its approval before they were promulgated was unprecedented. The approbation was given with, in some instances, a few qualifications. Another characteristic which distinguishes this congregation from begin-ning to end and is evident in the decrees is thee theme of repentance. There is a mea culpa, mea maxima culpa evident in the Introductory Decree, the Decree on Mission, on The Jesuit Today, as well as in others. The Society is painfully conscious of its failings over the past ten years. Particularly in contrast to the Thirty-first Congregation, with its stress on freedom, subsidiarity and conscience, this one stressed the complementary features of the limits of pluralism, the need for norms that are applicable for Jesuit life as a whole, the responsibility of superiors for a greater firmness in governing, the importance of the manifestation of conscience both for the spiritual direction of the individual, and the good of the apostolate, the value of communal discernment when the proper conditions are realized. This congregation, unlike others, had a unifying theme throughout: the mission of the Society today. This did not happen because it was planned. There was a kind of unconscious dynamic at work which imperceptibly gave 686 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 this orientation to the various decrees. The consciousness of mission, if fully appropriated in all of its richness, could do much to revivify the Society, over-coming in the first place a great deal of individualism and self-will, and bring-ing about a greater sense of the living presence of Christ sending through His Church, and through superiors. In the actual procedure of the congregation there were unique features arising from the sharing that took place in smaller groups. One of the most im-portant parts of our daily life was the concelebrated Mass which was celebrated according to the different language groupings. Finally this congregation is probably distinctive in the fact that a little over half of the delegates were under forty-nine years old (122 out of the 236). Strengths and Weaknesses of the Congregation Like all meetings of this kind there are both strengths and weaknesses to be found. I could not resist the temptation to say that one of the strengths was un-doubtedly sheer psychological tenacity to "keep at it" for over three months when everyone was exhausted both from the work itself and the emotional strain. But the main strength of the congregation is the sense of solidarity manifest among the delegates and throughout the Society, a solidarity coming from a vision based on faith and brought into an Ignatian focus through the Spiritual Exercises and our Jesuit tradition. However, I think that there are also some deficiences evident in the work and structure of the congregation. Some way has to be found to expedite the carrying out of business. Though it was an attempt to get the input from the whole Society, on balance, the analysis of the postulates took up too much time. And questions of order consumed interminable hours. In regard to particular questions, in retrospect, it might have been a serious mistake not to have separated in some way the question of the Fourth Vow from that of grades. While they are related, they are distinct. And the interven-tion of the Holy See was concerned with the Fourth Vow, and not directly with grades. Again the expression given to the relationship of the Society to the Holy Father is "safe," but it creates the impression of one who is driving a car with one foot on the accelerator and the other on the brake. It does not seem to ex-press the 61an of Jesuit spirituality in its fullness. One reason for this inade-quacy stems from the fact that the congregation came to the topic only in the last few days before it ended, and the members did not have the mental energy or the time to do justice to it. Another difficulty is in the formulation itself. Attempts to combine both the unreserved expression of the spirit of loyalty and the juridical aspect of limits tend to cancel one another out. For example, there were numerous attempts, all sterile, to speak of "mission" in relationship to "doctrine," wherein loyalty would be unreserved in regard to mission, but conditioned in regard to doctrine. Consequently the resulting statement is bland, not nuanced. This will probably be one of the main topics that will have to be taken up at the next General Congregation. A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation Another deficiency is the fact that the congregation treated those problems which are more obvious because they have a certain shrillness--the problem, for example, of global injustice. Just as important, however, but without the volume being turned up, are questions touching man and technology, par-ticularly the genetic manipulation of man. Again, these questions will probably have to be faced by the next congregation. What to Hope For If the Society as a whole could translate what is set down in the decrees from formulation into fact, it would be renewed. In turn it would become a great force in renewing the Church and the world. What hope is there for such a renewal? The parable of the sower and the seed has its application to the Society as well as to the Church. There are those whose roots are not deep enough to withstand trials. There are others whose life of faith is choked by cares and riches. But then there are the many who do yield fruit, some, a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Decrees, however excellent, are no substitute for the gospel-call to totality. To the degree that individuals open themselves to the radical call of the gospel will they also open themselves to the decrees, which after all are only a faltering attempt to express this radical call in a way that is both Ignatian and contemporary. There are many factors which will contribute to energizing this renewal. Many feel a need for a deeper life of prayer. The importance of spiritual direc-tion is expressing itself strongly. A fuller appropriation of the Spiritual Exercises ¯ through the directed retreat is a great blessing. Again, an important factor is the reinforcement and leadership given to the Society by other religious con-gregations which have already led the way in the renewal of religious life by bringing their lives more in conformity with gospel simplicity and single-mindedness. We can also hope that we will not repeat the mistakes of the past ten years. Considering the turmoil and confusion coming from "future shock," these mistakes are perhaps understandable. But no organization can exist in a state of continuous convulsion. Many of the delegates, in searching for answers to the problems which faced us "discovered" our Thirty-first Congregation, which someone described as the great congregation in the history of the Society. We found that in many cases we could not do better, in fact could hardly come up to the decrees of the Thirty-first. But we also felt like a traveler who had spent hours trying to find his way only to discover after much meandering that there was a map in his glove compartment. The documents of the Thirty-first General Congreg -tion were such a map. The logical question, then, is: why were not the decrees implemented? A still more haunting question is: will the same thing happen to the decrees of this congregation? This was a problem which preoccupied the delegates throughout the whole time. Meetings were held to discuss implementation. But as the saying goes, 61~! / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 there is many a slip,between the cup and the lip. How much will the Society be able to drink in from the decrees? One of the main sources of hope, in addition to those mentioned above, is a renewed sense of solidarity and confidence among the provincials, and a strong sense of support in Fr. General. In the past ten years very often inaction resulted not from a failure of courage or faith, but because of a blurring of ideas concerning the fundamentals of religious life, often enough because of contradictory views bandied by theologians. The provincials obviously have not suddenly received some formula of universal application to solve all problems, but there is a greater sense of assurance and direction. The weight of implementation turns around the local superiors with the support of the provincials. There is hope here also, because the superiors themselves have a greater sense of their solidarity and of their role as spiritual leaders of the local communities. Ultimately the problem is always the same: conversion. It is something never accomplished once and for all, but continues to repeat its call. There are the perennial obstacles to conversion: inertia, self-love, self-will, the evil spirits that affect us all as individuals. However, it especially in the way that the collectivity reenforces the inertia in individuals that we find the main obstacle today. Group-think and group-feel, in large part created through the media, produce a kind of closedness that filters down from a collective level to in-dividuals, bringing about imperceptibly a closedness in the individual. Each one, young or old, is caught in some degree on this split level of collectivity and self, and suffers from the unfreedom of the collectivity. Jesuits already engaged in the apostolate have to discern how much this group-think affects their personal lives, impeding their personal conversion and the fruitfulness of their apostolate. Jesuits who are in formation have to do the same. The responsibility of those who are in charge of training the younger Jesuits is great. The importance of the congregation comes not from the written decrees but from the support that these decrees give to creating in the Society a different kind of group-think, a "group-feel" based upon the gospel. "My name is legion." Legions can be driven out only by legions. The demonic in collectivity can only be driven out by the embodiment of holiness in collec-tivity. The Society will rise or fall to the extent that the good will of the in-dividual is supported and sustained by a corporate realization of sanctity. No individual can abdicate the responsibility for his own conversion. But in a special way superiors have a responsibility for the whole group. Newman remarked somewhere that good is never done except at the expense of those who do it, and truth is never enforced except at the sacrifice of its propounders. Reformers and prophets have never been well received. Perhaps superiors are destined to enter into that role, not, however, with a martyr complex or heaviness of heart. We have a living example in Fr. Arrupe that it is a role that is compatible with a deep joy. Aiding and facilitating the work of the superiors are the communities A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 689 themselves which are called upon, through community meetings and prayerful discernment, to face their own response to the gospel call to simplicity, and to bridge the gap between the radical response to which we have vowed our lives and the actual way in which we live them. When I asked one of the delegates who was in great part responsible for the formulation of the decree on poverty how optimistic he was about its im-plementation, he said: "When I think of human nature, I am not very op-timistic. But when I think of the power of the Spirit, 1 am hopeful. Everything depends on the Spirit. Legislation can support; it cannot convert. Of ourselves we are weak, but with the power of the Spirit we can overcome, overcome even ourselves." POSITION OPEN The Department of Theology in the School of Religious Studies of the Catholic University of America announces the opening, beginning January, 1976, for: Assistant, Associate or Full Professor in the field of Christian Spiritual Theology. Applications should be sent to:Chairperson Department of Theology Catholic University of America Washington, DC 20064 The Catholic University of America is an equal ol~portunity employer. The Recovery =of Religious Life Bro. Raymond L. Fitz, S.M. Bro. Lawrence J. Cada, S.M. Both authors belong to the Marianist Training Network. Brother Raymond Fitz is director of the Marianist Institute of Christian Renewal and associate professor of Engineering Management and Electrical Engineering at the University of Dayton. He lives at 410 Edgar Avenue; Dayton, Ohio 45410. Brother Lawrence Cada is chairman of the Department of Science and Mathematics at Borromeo College of Ohio and lives at 315 East 149 Street; Cleveland, Ohio 44110. I. Introduction~ How long will the turmoils now besetting religious life last? Are they almost over, and has the process of returning to a more normal situation begun? Or will things stay unsettled for some time to come? This article will argue for the likelihood of the latter alternative. On the basis of the models and analyses presented, the article will try to show that religious life in America is undergo-ing a profound transition, which will take another twenty to twenty-five years to run its full course. Moreover, the study will seek to demonstrate that social disintegration (loss of membership, lack of vocations, collapse of institutions, etc.) of religious communities in the Church will probably continue for at least the next ten to fifteen years. The most significant questions facing religious life in those ten to fifteen years will center on "death and dying." Many aspects of the life as it has been known will be passing away. Only after these questions are accepted and creatively answered can religious life be expected to be revitalized and renewed within the Church. This process will demand both a recovery of that deep dynamic impulse which first gave rise to religious life in the Church and a recovery from the malaise through which it is now passing: tThis is a draft of a work in progress. Feedback on the content and style of this paper would be ap-preciated. 690 The Recovery of Religious Life hence the title "The Recovery of Religious Life." Although much of this arti-cle argues for the plausibility of these assertions and their implications for the future of religious life, there will also be provided an explanation of how the data were collected and organized, and of what was called important or unim-portant. In this sense, these assertions represent a starting bias that informs the entire article. As such, this bias merits being stated at the outset. The approach taken in this article2 is to explore the questions about the future of religious life from a historical and sociological point of view. In the first two parts of the article, two models are developed: a historical model of the evolution of religious life as a movement in the Church and a sociological model dealing with the organizational life cycle of an individual religious com-munity. Then, in the final sections of the article, these two models will be used to address questions about the present condition of religious life and its future. Every model represents a simplification of reality, and the models in this arti-cle are no exception. To arrive at the questions posed in the final sections, the article will digest and condense large amounts of material drawn from a variety of sources that are partially indicated in the notes. It is hoped that this simplification is not a serious distortion of the facts and that it will arrange the historical and other data in such a way as to provide an overview from which some tentative generalizations can be made. II. The Evolution of Religious Life: A Historical Model Religious communities in the life of the church are not fixed and static en-tities. Taken together they make up a historical process unfolding over time, and religious life can be viewed as a significant social movement in the history of Western Culture. As parts of a movement, religious communities arose in response to dramatic social change in the Church and in the larger cultural and political arena of Western Civilization. They became a dynamic force in shap-ing and cha~ging the Church and secular culture. They have been both a cause and an effect of social change: the founding of religious communities has fre-quently been a response to major developments of society, and the evolution of the Church and Western Culture has been significantly influenced by the life and work of religious communities. As in all social movements, the role of myth, the emergence of belief systems, the fashioning of institutions and social structures, and the role of personal transformation and commitment are central to the evolution of religious life. The dynamic interplay of all these elements creates, sustains and limits the histo~'ical unfolding of religious communities. ~This article grew from a variety of experiences over an extended period of time with multiple presentations at workshops and reflections from many religious. Especially helpful were Fr. Norbert Brockman, S.M., Sr. Gertrude Foley, S.C., Bro. Thomas Giardino, S.M., and Sr. Carol Lichtenberg, S.N.D. The scheme of dividing the history of religious life into the five eras presented in the second part of this article was first suggested in a lecture given by Fr. David Fleming, S.M., at the University of Dayton in December, 1971. 692 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 A. Organizing Concepts One way to view the unfolding of religious life within the Church is to look at how the image of religious life has evolved over time and what implications this evolution has had for the functioning of individual religious communities.3 The term dominant image of religious life is used here to name a multifaceted reality that includes how religious view their life and its functions and role within the Church and the world during a given period. The term is also meant to indicate the sense of history which permeates religious life at a given time. How do people, both the religious and the members of society at large, picture the past of this way of life? What kind of future are religious supposed to be creating? The process by which the dominant image of religious life evolves in time can be characterized by a repeated sequence of identifiable phases of change: - Growth Phase. A relatively long period of elaboration and develop-ment of the dominant image of religious life and its implications. - Decline Phase. A period of crisis in which the dominant image of religious life comes under strong question. Religious communities seem no longer suited to the aspirations of the age. Religious com-munities lose their purpose, drift into laxity, and disintegrate. Transition Phase. A comparatively short period of revitalization in which variations of the dominant image of religious life emerge and one of these is gradually selected as the new dominant image. - Growth Phase under a New Image. A period of elaboration and development under the new dominant image of religious life. The supposition that religious life has passed through a succession of such phases of growth, decline, and transition is the basis of a model that can be used to organize and interpret the data of the history of religious life.4 The remainder of this section is devoted to illustrating a way this model might be constructed. 3Some sources used to clarify the notion of dominant image were Fred Polak, The hnage of the Future, translated and abridged by Elise Boulding (San Francisco: Jassey-Bass, 1973); Changing Images of Man, Policy Research Report No. 4, Center for the Study of Social Policy, Stanford Research Institute, May, 1974; and Kenneth E. Boulding, The Image: Knowledge in Life and Society (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1961). *Some sources used to clarify the notion of social evolution were Stephen Toulmin, Human Understanding-I (Princeton: P. U. P., 1972); Anthony F. C. Wallace, "'Paradigmatic Processes in Cultural Change," American Anthropologist (Vol. 74, 1972), pp. 467-478; Donald T. Campbell, "'Variation and Selective Retention in Socio-Cultural Evolution," in H. R. Barringer, G. I. Blanksten, and R. W. Mack (¢ds.), Social Change in Developing Areas (Cambridge, Mass.: Schenkman, 1965); Edgar S. Dunn, Economic and Social Development." A Process of Social Learn-ing (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins U. P., 1971); and Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962). The Recovery of Religious Life / 693 The following questions have been used in fashioning the model. First, there are questions about variation that deal with searching and experiment-ing. Under what conditions do variations appear in the dominant image of religious life? If these variations lead in certain directions, what factors in culture, the Church, or religious life itself influenced the choice of those direc-tions? Second, there are questions about selection. What determines which variations in the dominant image of religious life are selected out to serve as essential elements of a new image of religious life? How do members of religious communities distinguish well-founded and properly justified variations from those which are precipitous, not well thought out, and hasty? ¯ Finally, there are questions about retention that deal with incorporating and establishing the new. How are selected variations incorporated into religious communities? What processes are needed? What set of factors distinguishes in-novations which endure from those which disappear quickly? B. Major Eras in the Evolution of Religious Life Using the concepts described above, the history of religious life can be divided into five main periods: the eras of the Desert Fathers, Monasticism, the Mendicant Orders, the Apostolic Orders, and the Teaching Congregations) The description of these eras given in this section constitutes the historical model that will be used in the final portion of this article. 1. Era of the Desert Fathers The first period was the Era of the Desert Fathers. Following the earliest manifestations of religious life in the mode of consecrated virgins and widows within the Christian communities of the persecuted Church, ther~ emerged the image of the religious as the ascetic holy person. The description of the her-mit's life given by Athanasius in his Life of Anthony crystallized an ideal which inspired both solitary anchorites and many communities of cenobites. The desert was seen as the domain of the demons to which they had retreated after being driven out of the cities by the triumph of the recently established Church. It was to this "desert" that generous men and women withdrew to 5Factual and historical data on the history of religious life were gathered from such standard sources as The Catholic Encyclopedia (1907), The New Catholic Encyclopedia (1967), the An-nuario Pontificio, The Official Catholic Directory, and The Catholic Almanac. Some of the other sources on this topic were Raymond Hostie, S.J., Vie et mort des ordres religieux (Paris: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1972); David Knowles, O.S.B., Christian Monasticism (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1969); Humbert M. Vicaire, O.P., The Apostolic Life (Chicago: Priory Press, 1966); Derwas J. Chitty, The Desert a City (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1964); Owen Chadwick, John Cassian, 2nd ed. (Cambridge: C. U. P., 1968); William Hinnebusch, O.P., "'How the Dominican Order Faced Its Crises," Review for Religious (Vol. 32, No. 6, November, 1973), pp. 1307-1321; William A. Hinnebusch, O.P., The History of the Dominican Order, 2 vols. (New York: Alba House, 1966, 1973); Teresa Ledochowska, O.S.U., Angela Merici and the Company of St. Ursula, 2 vols. (Rome: Ancora, 1969); William V. Bangert, S.J., A History of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1972); and Adrien Dansette, Religious History of Modern France, 2 vols. (New York: Herder and Herder, 1961). 69t~ / Review for Religious, lZolume 34, 1975/5 carry on the Church's important work of doing battle with the devil in the wilderness as Christ had done long ago. In this way the desert came to be seen as a place of austere beauty, where the monk was trained in the ways of perfec-tion. He returned from time to time into the midst of his fellow Christians, who saw in him the power to do good--healing the sick, casting out demons, comforting the sorrowful with gentle words, reconciling the estranged, and above all urging everyone to put nothing in the world before the love of Christ. This image captured the imagination of the Christian world as news about the Desert Fathers spread from Egypt to all points of the Roman empire. Throughout the 4th century monasteries sprang up on all the shores of the Mediterranean. By the 5th century, the golden age had begun to fade. In the East, the monks had become embroiled in doctrinal controversy. In the West, TABLE 1: ERA OF THE DESERT FATHERS (200-500) Dominant Image of Religious Life. The ideal of religious life is the holy ascetic who seeks " the perfection of Christ as a solitary or in community with a group of monks. Disciples withdraw into the "desert" and place themselves under the care of a master ascetic who teaches them the ways of perfection. They live nearby as hermits or gather in cenobia or monasteries where the master is the superior. The monk prays, mortifies himself, does battle with the devil for the sake of the Church, and spends his life seeking union with Christ. 2nd and 3rd Centuries 251 Anthony horn Consecrated virgins and widows live a form of 271 Anthony withdraws into the desert RL within Christian communities of the early 292 Pachomius born Church during the persecution. 4th Century 313 Edict of Milan 325 Pachomius founds cenobium 356 Anthony ~lies 357 Athanasius writes Life of Anthony 360 Basil founds monastery in Cappadocia 363 Martin founds monastery in Gaul 376 Melania founds monastery on Mount of Olives 393 Augustine founds monastic group in Hip-po 399 Cassian, disciple of Evagrius, migrates from Egypt to West Hermits and cenobites flourish in the Egyptian desert. Various forms of solitary and com-munity RL spread around eastern rim of the Mediterranean (Palestine, Syria, Cappadocia). First monasteries are founded in the West. 5th Century 410 Alaric sacks Rome RL continues to expand in the East. Spread of 415 Cassian founds monastery in Marseille wandering monks and various kinds of 455 Vandals sack Rome monasteries in the West while the western half 459 Simon the Stylite dies of the Roman Empire crumbles. 476 End of western Roman Empire 1st TRANSITION: SPREAD OF BENEDICT'S RULE The Recovery of Religious Life / 69t~ the foundations of Roman civilization weakened under the onslaught of the barbarian tribes, and the ties between the eastern and western halves of the Empire began to break apart. The monasteries in Gaul and other parts of the moribund West became refugee cloisters, where the monks gathered the few treasures of civilization they could lay hold of. As dusk settled on the glories of imperial Rome, the stage was set for the rise of feudal Europe and with it the next period in the evolution of religious life. 2. Era of Monasticism The next period was the Era of Monasticism. In his attempt to regularize religious life as "a life with God in separation from the world," Benedict produced a new dominant image of religious life. This image was not only a correction of the abuses which had crept in during the 5th and 6th centuries, it also, and more importantly, turned out to be a successful adaptation of religious life to the feudal society of the Dark Ages and the early medieval period. Benedict's short and practical Rule furnished workable guidelines for all monastic activity and every age and class of monks. It combined an uncom-promising spirituality with physical moderation and flexibility. It emphasized the charity and harmony of a simple life in common under the guidance of a wise and holy abbot. By the 9th century, this new image had spread to virtually all the monasteries of Europe. The ideal of the Benedictine monk became the model for Christian spirituality and played a part in the stabilization and unification of society. Various modifications, such as the Cluniac, Carthusian, and Cister-cian Reforms, maintained and adapted the dominant image to the developments in European society. Cluny and the Cistercians devised methods of uniting monasteries into networks that became harbingers of the modern order. However, by the time the 'first stirrings of urbanization began at the end of the 12th century, the dominant image began to show its inadequacies and once again laxity in religious life was not uncommon. There was also a great debate between monks and canons about which form of religious life was a more authentic embodiment of the apostolic ideal. As the civilization of the high Middle Ages began to emerge, new possibilities were felt in society and with them came the opportunity for a transition in religious life. 3. Era of the Mendicant Orders When Francis and Dominic launched their communities, they ushered in the next period, the Era of the Mendicant Orders. As mendicant friaries sprang up in towns across Europe, they met with an initial hostility which could not fathom how this new style could be an authentic form of religious life. Gradually, though, the new image of religious life became acceptable, and it proved to be a much better adaptation of ~:eligious life to the needs of urban society than was possible for the monasteries in their rural settings. During the course of the 13th century, even the monastic orders established studia close 696 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 to the new universities, where the mendicants were flourishing. As Christen-dom was passing through its zenith, the image of a religious life unen-cumbered with landed wealth played a key role in the cultivation of the in-tellectual life by the Church within society and in the preaching of the Gospel for the Church. TABLE 2: ERA OF MONASTICISM (500-1200) Dominant Image of RL. Life in a monastery is the ideal of the religious. The daily round of liturgical prayer, work, and meditation provides a practical setting to pursue the lofty goals of praising God and union with Christ. Within the Church and society, the monks set an example of how deep spirituality can be combined with loving ministry to one's neighbor and dutiful fidelity to the concrete tasks of daily living. 6th Century 529 Benedict founds a monastery to live ac- Spread of monasteries throughout western cording to his Rule Europe (Gaul, Spain, Ireland, etc.). Various 540 Celtic monasticism takes root in Irela'nd formats. Excesses and laxity are common--as 590 Columbanus founds monastery in Lu~r are wandering monks. euil 7th and 8th Centuries 642 Arab conquest of Egypt Gradual spread of Benedict's Rule to.more and 700 Venerable Bede more monasteries of Europe. Missionary 746 Boniface founds monastery in Germany journeys of Celtic monks to evangelize 755 Canons of Chrodegang founded northern Europe. 9th Century 816 Regula Canonicorum of Aix-la-Chapelle Observance of Canons Regular is made uni- 817 Charlemagne's son decrees that form by the spread of the Rule of Aix. Con- Benedict's Rule is to be observed in all solidation of Benedict's Rule. Virtually all monasteries. This project coordinated by monasteries are "Benedictine." Benedict of Aniane. 910 Cluniac Reform 1084 Carthusian Reform 1098 Cistercian Reform 10th and llth Centuries Various reforms breathe new life into Benedict's ideal and introduce organizational variations. 1111 Bernard joins the Cistercians 1120 Premonstratensians founded 12th Century Canons Regular unite into orders which are a variation of the monastic networks of Cluny and Citeaux. Military orders attempt a new form of RL which is temporarily successful (Knights of Malta, Templars, Teutonic Knights, etc.). 2nd TRANSITION: RISE OF THE MENDICANTS After a rapid flowering, the mendicant orders were affected by the same changes which spread across the Church and European society in the 14th and 15th centuries. As the Renaissance presaged the new humanism, the secularization of European society, and the breakup of the unity of Christen-dom, there emerged the conditions for yet a new kind of religious life. The Recovery of Religious Life / 697 TABLE 3: ERA OF THE MENDICANT ORDERS (1200-1500) Dominant Image of RL. The simple friar who begs for his keep and follows in the footsteps of the Lord is the ideal of RL. He prays as he goes, steeping himself in the love of Christ. Unencumbered by landed wealth, the mendicants are free to travel on foot to any place they are needed by the Church. They hold themselves ready to preach, cultivate learning, serve the poor, and minister to the needs of society in the name of the Church. 1211 Franciscans founded 1216 Dominicans founded 1242 Carmelites founded 1256 Augustinians founded 13th Century Mendicant friaries spring up in medieval towns across Europe. These foundations lend themsel~,es to work in the new universities and the apostolate of preaching. Rapid expansion of the mendicant orders. Monastic orders make some attempts to take up the style of the mendicants. 1325 75,000 men in mendicant orders 1344 Brigittines founded 1349 Black Death 1400 47,000 men in mendicant orders 1415 Hus burned at the stake 1450 Gutenberg 1492 Columbus 1500 90,000 men in mendicant orders 14th Century ~tabilization and slow decline of the mendicant orders. Abuses in RL are prevalent. 15th Century Various reforms restore the mendicant ideal and produce a gradual increase in membership. First stirrings of the Renaissance introduce an uneasiness into the Church and RL. 3rd TRANSITION: THE COUNTER-REFORMATION 4. Era of the Apostolic Orders The transition to the next period in religious life, the era of the Apostolic Orders, happened with the Counter-Reformation. Not long after Luther sparked the Protestant Revolt, the new image of religious life appeared with the foundation of various orders of Clerics Regular, the chief of which were the Jesuits. The verve and style of this new foundation set the pace for religious life, The mendicant orders had taken up this ideal in part by joining in the mis-sionary conquests,of the Church in the newly discovered lands. The new image also spurred religious to come to terms with the secularizing trends of the scientific revolution, modern philosophy, and the rise of nationalism in Europe. Jesuits, for example, could be found in the royal courts of almost all of Europe's Catholic kingdoms, in the laboratories of the new scientists, and teaching the youthful Descartes at La Fl~che. As the proponents of the Enlightenment testily challenged the very ex-istence of the Church, a slow decline descended upon religious life. Large and nearly empty monasteries dotted the European countryside. Jansenist and Enlightened thought undermined the.rationale for religious life from opposite directions. The Bourbon kings succeededin persuading Rome to suppress the 69~! / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 Jesuits in 1773. On the eve of the French Revolution, worldwide membership in all the men's religious orders stood at about 300,000; by the time the Revolution and the secularization which followed had run their course, fewer than 70,000 remained. Many orders went out of existence. As the 19th century began, there was need of a thorough-going revival of religious life, which could realistically cope with the new consciousness of Europe. TABLE 4: ERA OF THE APOSTOLIC ORDERS (1500-1800) Dominant Image of RL. Religious are an elite of dedicated and militant servants of the Church with a high level of individual holiness, a readiness to defend the Church on any front, and the zeal to win new expansion for the Church to the very ends of the earth. 1517 Luther sparks the Reformation 1535 Ursulines founded 1540 Jesuits founded 1541 Francis Xavier sails for Far East 1545 Trent starts 1562 Discalced Carmelite Reform 16th Century RE virtually wiped out in Protestant Europe. Founding and expansion of a new kind of RL in the format of the Clerics Regular. These groups work at shoring up the Church's political power in Catholic Europe, reforming the Church, and spreading the Gospel in the foreign missions. 17th Century 1610 Visitation Nuns founded 1625 Vincentians founded 1633 Daughters of Charity founded 1650 St. Joseph Sisters founded 1662 Ranc6 launches Trappist Reform 1663 Paris Foreign Mission Society founded 1681 Christian Brothers founded 1700 213,000 men in mendicant orders Flowering of spirituality, especially in French School, leads to new foundations such as the various societies of priests and clerical con-gregations. Bulk of men religious still belong to mendicant orders. 1725 Passionists founded 1735 Redemptorists founded 1770 300,000 men in RL in world 1773 Jesuits suppressed by Rome 1789 French Revolution starts 18th Century A few clerical congregations emerge, but RL as a whole seems to be in decline due to the in-roads of Enlightenment thought, Jansenism, wealth, and laxity. Weakened RL is given the coup de gr?tce by the French Revolution, which sets off a wave of political suppression and defection in France and the rest of Catholic Europe. 4th TRANSITION: FRENCH REVOLUTION 5. Era of the Teaching Congregations The revival of religious life which occurred in the next period, the Era of the Teaching Congregations, set off in a new direction. There were about 600 foundations of new communities in the 19th century. They were, for the most part, dominated by the movement of educating the masses. For the first time The Recovery of Religious Life / 699 in European history, the idea of educating everyone had the possibility of be-ing concretely realized. The new congregations joined in this movement in hopes of planting the seeds of a hardy faith in the souls of the children they taught by the thousands. This zeal for the education of children was combined with a cleansed Jansenistic spirituality to form the new image of religious life. While the activity of religious spilled over into other apostolic works such as hospitals, teaching set the pace. Even the few pre-Revolution orders which were managing a slow recovery took on many of the trappings of the typical 19th century teaching congregation. For the first time in the history of religious life, recruitment of adult vocations was almost completely displaced by the acceptance of candidates just emerging from childhood. Through the end of the 19th century and on into the 20th the religious who gave themselves to this demanding work of teaching edified the Church and produced a brand of holiness which was most appropriate for a Catholicism which sought to strengthen a papacy denuded o.f worldly power and to care for the masses of the industrialized wor.ld in need of christianization. By the mid-1960's membership in religious communities reached the highest point in the history of the Church. In the last decade, this trend was reversed for the first time in more than a century. Crises have set in which some ascribe to a loss of identity TABLE 5: ERA OF THE TEACHING CONGREGATIONS (1800-present) Dominant Image of RL. Religious dedicate their lives to the salvation of their own souls and the salvation of others. The style of life of religious men and women blends in intense pursuit of personal holiness with a highly active apostolic service. Identity with the person of Christ unites this two-fold objective into a single purpose. 19th Century 1814 French Restoration; Jesuits restored by Rome 1825 Fewer than 70,000 men in RL in world 1831 Mercy Sisters founded 1850 83,000 men in RL in world 1859 Salesians founded 1870 Papal infallibility declared Revival of RL after widespread state sup-pressions. Numerous foundations of con-gregations dedicated to a return to authentic RL blended with service, principally in schools. Old orders, such as Jesuits and Dominicans, rejuvenated in the format of the teaching con-gregations. Church gradually centralizes around the papacy and isolates itself from secular trends of the modern world 20th Century 1950 275,000 men in RL in world 1962 Vatican II starts; 1,012,000 women in RL in world 1965 335,000 men in RL in world 1966 181,500 women in RL in U.S. 1972 879,000 women in RL in world 1973 143,000 women in RL in U.S. 1974 227,500 men in RL in world Expansion and solidification. In the sixties, crises set in from within RL due to loss of iden-tity and inroads of secularizing process. Numerous defections and decreasing numbers of new members. 5th TRANSITION: (?) 700 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 and the inroads of secularism. It seems that another transition in the long history of religious life has begun. Further considerations will be undertaken in the remainder of this article to better analyze the present situation. 11I. The Life Cycle of a Religious Community: A Sociological Model The previous section of this paper focused on a historical model for the evolution of religious life as such within the Church; in this section attention is turned toward the life of the individual religious community or institute. To this end, a sociological model for the life cycle of individual religious com-munities which organizes the important dimensions of each period in the life of the communities is developed.6 This model allows further probing of the questions concerning the plausibility of a revitalization of religious life, since revitalization of present religious communities is one way that religious life as a whole will be renewed. A. Organizing Concepts To date, only thirteen men's religious orders in the entire his.tory of the Church have ever surpassed a membership figure of 10,000 at some point of their existence. The membership pattern of three of these orders--the Dominicans, the Minims, and the Jesuits--is graphed in Figure 1 below. Although these three examples are taken from among the largest orders of the Church, they are representative of the membership pattern in most religious communities, large or small. Typically one finds one or more cycles of growth and decline in the number of members. These membership patterns suggest a dynamic of inner vitality that goes on in a religious community. Using such analogies as the human life cycle and other cycles of growth and decline, a sociological model has been devised which divides the life cycle of an active religious community into five periods: foundation, expansion, stabilization, breakdown and transition. The model is shown schematically in Figure 2. The shape of this curve is intended to repre-sent the over-all vitality of the community as it passes from one period to the next. In the following section salient events and characteristics which typify each of these periods are described. An attempt is also made to isolate the crises which occur during each period. ~Some sources used to clarify the notion of a life cycle were Hostie, Vie et mort; Wallace, "'Paradigmatic Processes"; Gordon L. Lippitt and Warren H. Schmidt, "Crisis in a Developing Organization," Harvard Business Review (Vol. 45, No. 6, November-December, 1967), pp. 102- 112; and Lawrence E. Greiner, "Evolution and Revolution as Organizations Grow," Harvard Business Review (Vol. 50, No. 4, July-August, 1972), pp. 37-46; Thomas F. O'Dea, The Sociology of Religion (Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1966); Luther P. Gerlach and Virginia H. Hine, People. Power and Change: Movements of Social Transformation (Indianapolis: Bobbs- Merrill, 1970). The Recovery of Religious Life / 701 _z 20 LLI ~ lO 30 1200 1300 ! \/ , st 1400 1500 1600 1700 I t I t I I I II ! I ! 1800 1900 2000 Figure 1: Membership of Dominicans, Minims, and Jesuits IFOUNDATIONIEXPANSION ISTABILIZATION BREAKDOWN TRANSITION Figure 2: Life Cycle of a Religious Community B. The Periods of the Life Cycle 1. The Foundation Period The first period in the life of a religious community centers around a found-ing person and his or her vision. The founder or foundress undergoes a radically transformi,ng experience, which can usually be pinpointed to an event or series of events, and .which is perceived as an abrupt shift in the founding 702 / Review for Religious, I/olume 34, 1975/5 person's identity and a timeless moment in which a vision or dream is received. Contained in the transforming experience is a new appreciation of the message of Jesus which leads to innovative insight on how the condition of the Church or society could be dramatically improved or how a totally new kind of future could be launched. A new impetus to live the religious life in all the totality of its demands is felt, and a new theory emerges that is at once a critique of the present, an appropriation of the past, a compelling image of the future, and a basis for novel strategies. The founding person's transforming experience is followed by the initial emergence of the community. A fortuitous encounter takes place between the founder or foundress and some contemporary men or women in which the founding experience, the innovative insight, the emerging theory, and the call to holiness are shared. The group unites under the guidance of the founding person to search for and invent new arrangements for living the Gospel together and working toward the realization of the Kingdom of God. The foundation period may last ten to twenty years or longer and fre-quently coincides with the last part of the founding person's lifetime. Integra-tion and cohesion center on the founding person and still more deeply on the person of Christ. The structural identity of the community appears in seminal form, and authority in the community springs from the wisdom of the found-ing person. Founding events of religious communities have a uniqueness about them which has caused them to be especially treasured as significant moments in the Church's past. Examples of founding persons and their visions readily come to mind: Angela Merici's dream of a new kind of religious life for women that centered on an active apostolate; the hopes of Robert of Molesme to restore fervor through the primitive observance of Benedict's Rule in the wilderness of C~teaux; Don Bosco's contagious vision of loving Christ and joyfully serving the poor. The more striking cases of founding persons receiving their in-spirations have become part of the common heritage of all religious: Anthony hearing in a Sunday Gospel the words which were the key to his life's aim; Ignatius retiring to Manresa to receive his visions. For the most part the foundation period is a time of grace and charism for a new religious community. But there are also crises that must be faced. The crisis of direction forces the community to decide which undertakings are im-portant and which must be sacrificed. The crisis of leadership confronts the community with the problem of finding out how it will live beyond the time of its founding person. The crisis of legitimization engulfs the nascent community in the question of whether or not the Church will approve it as an authentic form of religious life. The Waldensians, for example, showed some signs of becoming a new religious order on the pattern of the mendicants, but they never overcame the crisis of iegitimization. Instead of becoming a religious community, they ended up as renegades who had to hide out in the woods of medieval Europe. The Recovery of Religious Life / 70a 2. The Expansion Period When the community has emerged from the foundation period, it un-dergoes a fairly long period of expansion, during which the founding charism is institutionalized in a variety of ways. A community cult and belief system solidifies, a community polity is fashioned, and community norms and customs take hold. As members of the community's second generation mature and grow older, they recount stories of the foundation, which they have heard from the pioneers or have themselves experienced in their youth. These stories enshrine decisive events which set the community's direction or establish its characteristic traits. Gradually, rituals and symbols which express and com-memorate the most treasured facets of the foundation are fused with the.iore of the older members into a sort of sacred memory and cult that begins to be passed on from generation to generation as the community's "founding myth." Attempts are made at thinking through the founding myth and expressing it in terms of contemporary thought patterns. Eventually these efforts result in theories, interpretations, and social models which coalesce into a belief system and give a rational structure to the more intuitive thrust of the founding myth. Simultaneously, procedures are devised for community decision making and communication, and bit by bit the community's polity.takes shape. Norms are set down and customs emerge which cover all aspects of the community's life, such as membership criteria, leadership standards, and apostolic priorities. The members of the young community experience an excitement about the growth and success which characterizes the expansion period. Large numbers join the community, and new works are rapidly taken on which enhance the possibility of a still broader recruitment. Major interpreters of the founding vi-sion are recognized. Patterns of spiritual practice are determined, and the community's spirituality is made concrete in manuals of direction or other written documents. With expansion come certain organizational crises. How is authority to be delegated? What means will be used to integrate and tie together the rapidly expanding network of establishments and the burgeoning membership. When Bernard joined the Cistercians thirteen years after their foundation, he led the community through this kind of organizational crisis. In the process, a new en-tity, the general chapter, was invented to cope with the situation, and this in-novation is still a standard feature.of most religious orders today. Another crisis of this period centers on maintaining the pristine vigor of the founding vision. As rival interpretations arise, which will be discarded? A classic exam-ple of this kind of crisis occurred in the great debates about poverty among the early Franciscans just after Francis died. 3. The Stabilization Period After a fairly long expansion, which may last two to three generations or "/04 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 longer, there ensues a period of stabilization. Numerical increase in membership may continue, but geographical expansion usually slows down. The stabilization period may last a century or more, but it is sometimes as brief as fifty years or so. A feeling of success pervades the community during the stabilization period. Members experience a high degree of personal satisfaction from simply being in the community. The prevailing image of religious life is clear and accepted. It provides a basis for describing unambiguous social roles for religious. The community is accomplishing its purpose and this purpose is self-evident. The need to improve is not seen as a need to change things but simply to do better what is already being done. Gradually, as stabilization sets in, more and more of the community assumes that religious life has always been the way it is now and that it will always remain so in the future. There is little need to elaborate the understanding of the founding vision or penetrate into it more deeply. It is simply accepted and repeated to new members who join. No one is left in the community who knew the founding person or the first dis-ciples personally. Memory of the founding events takes on the cast of past his(ory that is separate from the present moment. Formation of new members emphasizes their conformity to standard patterns of external behavior that are seen as the best means of cultivating interior commitment. The over-all feeling of success which is so typical of the stabilization period is not illusory. There is in fact a job that is being done and done well by the many generous religious who devote themselves to its accomplishment. The kinds of crises that Crop up during the stabilization period are linked to the other characteristics of the period. The crisis of activism occurs. Members become so absorbed in work that they lose sight of its spiritual and apostolic underpinning. They allow the satisfactions of accomplishment to dis-place a centeredness in Christ. Loss of intensity is another crisis of the stabilization period. Is it possible to maintain the intensity of vision and com-mitment among members, now that the community has become so highly in-stitutionalized? They can often be simply carried along by the sheer inertia of the community's activity and held in place by the pressure of social expecta-tion placed on their role as religious from people in the Church. Another danger stems from the crisis of adaptation. In the midst of success the com-munity is seldom open to adaptation, and any changes that have to be made are fraught with difficulty. Quite often, even the most legitimate changes are rejected, and their proponents are righteously and intolerantly silenced. The failure of later Jesuit missionaries to implement the ideas of Matteo Ricci con-cerning Confucian practices among Chinese Catholics is perhaps a good ex-ample of the sort of resistance to adaptation that can be found during the stabilization period. 4. The Breakdown Period Eventually the seeming immutabilities of the stabilization period start to give, and the religious community enters the breakdown period. The The Recovery of Religious Life / 705 breakdown may be gradual and last a half a century or more, or it may be rapid and run its course in a few decades. In either case, what happens is a dis-mantling of the institutional structures and belief systems that arose in the ex-pansion period and served the community so well during the stabilization period. This collective decline gives rise, in turn, to stress and doubt in the in-dividual members. Initially .a number of persons become dissatisfied with the current state of the community. Perhaps they are simply struck by what they judge to be the silliness of some of the community's customs or procedures. Or they may come to see that the community's life and work are not equipped to handle im-portant new challenges. Unanswered questions about the function and purpose of the community begin to accumulate and start to raise doubts. Levels of in-dividual stress increase slowly at the beginning, but then rise rapidly as doubt spreads to more and more levels of the community's social structure. To handle the growing problems, standard remedies are tied. All that is needed, it seems, is to get back to doing well what has always been done and to renew commitment to the community's mission. However, the usual problem-solving techniques become increasingly ineffective. A sense of crisis grows as community authority and decision-making structures become confused. The community's belief system begins to appear archaic and bound in by the trap-pings and articulations of a bygone age. The founding experience and myth, which had been internalized by the community's early generations, is no longer felt by the members. As the community loses its sense of identity and purpose, service to the Church becomes haphazard and lacks direction. Moral norms in the com-munity are relaxed and some members perhaps distract themselves with sex and a misuse of wealth. There is a net loss of membership through increased withdrawals and decreased recruitment of new members. The crises that arise during the breakdown period center on the various phenomena of decline in the community. The crisis of polarization can become acute when those who have faith in the community as it was align themselves against those who in varying degrees reject the community as it is. The crisis of collapsing institutions sets in as the community is forced to stop doing "business as usual" and abandon long-established works. The resulting demoralization leads to the crisis of the community's impending death. What is to be done as the chilling awareness grows in the community that it is inex-orably listing into disintegration on all sides? 5. The Transition Period The breakdown is followed by a period of transition. Three outcomes are possible for religious communities during this period: extinction, minimal sur-vival, or revitalization. Extinction, the first of these outcomes, occurs when all the members of a community either withdraw or die and it simply passes out of existence. This happened, for example, to 76% of all men's religious orders founded before 706 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 1500 and to 64% of those founded before 1800. From a historical perspective, then, a reasonable expectation would seem to be that most religious com-munities in the Church today will eventually become extinct. A religious community which does not die out may go into a long period of low-level or minimal survival. If the membership pattern of presently existing religious orders founded before the French Revolution is examined, one finds that most of them enter into a period lasting across several centuries in which the number of members is very low. In fact, only 5% of all men's orders founded before 1500 and only 11% of the orders founded before 1800 have a current membership which is larger than 2,000. The Minims (Figure 1) are typical of the orders which once were quite large and now have a small membership. This type of outcome should not be interpreted as a dis-appearance of vitality in every case. The Carthusians, for example, follow this membership pattern. Yet they seem to be living UP to their reputation of never having relaxed their observance--never reformed and never needing reform. To this day the order's spiritual impact appears greater than its numerical strength. There is also a small percentage of religious communities which survive the breakdown period a~d enter into a period of revitalization. At least three characteristics can be singled out in all communities which have been revitalized in this way: a transforming response to the signs of the times; a reappropriation of the founding charism; and a profound renewal of the life of prayer, faith, and centeredness in Christ. The time in history fn which revitalization occurs seems to make a difference. If the revitalization occurs during one of the shifts in the dominant image of religious life singled out in the historical model above, the com-munity takes on many of the characteristics of the emerging image, and the transforming response to the signs of the times seems central to the revitaliza-tion. If the revitalization occurs midway during one of the major eras in the history of religious life identified earlier in this article, the revitalization takes on the characteristics of a reform with the reappropriation of the founding charism playing a central role. In either case the community experiences the revitalization as a second foundation. Personal transformation or conversion is central to revitalization. With personal transformation comes innovative insight and a new centering in the person of Christ. The innovative insight allows the transformed individuals within the community to develop critical awareness of the assumptions un-derlying the traditional meaning of the community and functioning of that community within the Church and the world. This innovative insight brings with it a focusing of energies through a new positive vision of what the com-munity should be in the future. The vision allows the emergence of a new theory which gives meaning to the experiences of individuals and the shared events lived within the community and spurs the community to building and creating its future. Such a new theory guides the community in the search for The Recovery of Religious Life / 707 and the invention of new models ~of living together as a community bound by. the evangelical conditions of discipleship in the service of the Church. A more complete sketch of the human dynamics of revitalization will be given in the last section of this article. The essential components of this dynamic, namely, insight and vision, and new theory and new models, are mentioned at this point to complete the picture of the life cycle of a religious community. Some limitations of this sociological model and the historical model of the previous section are given in the next section together with some generalizations that can be drawn from the models. IV. Some Limitations and Generalizations A. Limitations of the Models Before proceeding, some concluding and cautionary remarks must be made. Evidently the rapid overview of the history of religious life given in the first portion of this article should not be taken as anything more than a demonstration of how the evolution of religious life can be interpreted so as to fit the model of the five main eras that are being postulated in the proposed historical model. The account is far too compressed and over-simplified to provide an adequate and proi~erly nuanced telling of the story of religious life. For example, little attention was given to the Canons Regular, who constituted a significant portion of men religious from the Middle Ages to the French Revolution. There was no discussion of the medieval military orders nor of Orthodox monasticism. A still more gaping lacuna is the almost complete absence of any analysis of the way women's religious life differed from or followed the same pattern as that of the men. It may be that the sources used in this study were not sensitive to the distinctive role women actually played in the evolution of religious life. On the other hand, it may be that up to the present time the trends of women's religious life have been very parallel to those in the men's orders. The models proposed for the evolution of religious life and for the life-cycle of a religious community are also both simplifications. Some might validly question, for example, whether there were just five major eras in the history of religious life and whether the transitions between the eras occurred as clearly as the historical model suggests. The description of the dominant image of religious life for each era is a simplification of what was in every case a rather complex phenomenon. Hopefully, the liberties that have been taken are justified by the intention of trying to synopsize the history of religious life in such a way as to make some tentative insights more easily accessible to someone who is not a professional historian. Similarly, the breaks between the successive periods in the life cycle of a religious community are nowhere near as clear-cut as the proposed sociological model suggests. In .history, breakdowns sometimes occur within one order in different geographical locales at different times. Revitalizations often occur in some places for an order, while it decays elsewhere. At times 708 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 there are orders in which the role of the founding person is rather minor and does not have the decisiveness described in the model. Some communities have been founded in rather modest historical circumstances that were not accom-panied by the profound inspiration described in the model. These and similar qualifications must be kept in mind when the sociological model is used to in-terpret the life cycle of any particular community. B. Generalizations The models presented in the previous sections suggest some generalized conclusions. These conclusions can be helpful in exploring the present crisis of religious life. The historical evidence suggests that there have been significant shifts in the dominant image of religious life across the centuries. These shifts seem to occur when there are major societal changes astir and when the Church is un-dergoing major changes. The first transition happened as the Roman Empire fell in the West and feudal Europe was beginning; at the same time the rift between western and eastern Christianity was starting. The second transition occurred as feudal Europe was giving way to medieval urbanization and as the Church was gathering all of Europe into the unity of Christendom. The third transition took place at the start of the modern period of Western Civilization as the Church underwent the shock of the Reformation. The fourth transition resulted from a direct attack of society on the Church as a whole and on religious life in particular. Admittedly each of these changes in the culture and the Church differed from one another in many respects. However, the pattern seems clear enough at least to permit one to ask whether perhaps another shift in the dominant image of religious life would happen if major changes in society and the Church should come to pass. Although religious communities have been founded in almost every cen-tury of Christian history, it seems that each major shift in the dominant image of religious life is heralded by some significantly new foundations which em-body a new image in an especially striking way. This could be said of the earliest Benedictine monasteries for the first transition, of the Franciscans and Dominicans for the second transition, of the Jesuits for the third transition, and of the plethora of 19th century foundations for the fourth transition. It also seems to be the case that many communities go out of existence at each transition. Those that survive either continue in a diminished form or somehow blend the new dominant image with the charism of their own foun-dation to get another lease on life. The mendicant orders, for example, grew numerically stronger during the Era of Apostolic Orders as they adapted their own special gifts to the new style of religious life. The culture of the high Mid-dle Ages was rapidly and irretrievably passing away, but the mendicants adapted and flourished. One might ask, then, if the Church would witness the death of many religious communities and the foundation of new and different ones if a shift in the dominant image of religious life were to occur. The remainder of this article will explore the plausibility of maintaining that The Recovery of Religious Life / 709 another major transition has in fact begun in the history of religious life. Should this hypothesis be true, it would be appropriate to pose questions about h6w religious life is dying and how a recovery and revitalization might happen. Another observation that suggests itself from this brief survey concerns the continuity that underlies the shifts of the dominant image of religious life. As the image evolves it continues to hold up the impelling ideal of a radical following of the conditions set forth by Christ for an evangelical discipleship embedded in a life of prayer and deep faith. While the contemporary religious would probably not feel called to take on the externals of the life of the Desert Fathers, he or she will surely understand and be drawn to the stark beauty of the life of radical discipleship that moved Anthony to withdraw into the desert. Similar remarks could probably be made about the ultimate aims of the first Franciscans and the first rugged band of Jesuits. Through all the twists and turns in the make up and style of religious life, there is a deep core of seeking union with Christ in a special and total way that endures century after century. A great deal of historical precedent would have to be explained away by anyone who would wish to maintain that religious life is about to disappear as a separate and distinguishable way of life in the Church. The historical pattern seems to be one of repeated recovery. The present moment is indeed a time of trouble for religious communities, but religious life as a whole will doubtlessly survive. Turning to the sociological model, some further generalizations can be made. In the evolution of a religious community the non-rational elements of transforming experience, vision, and myth play a central role. This is es-pecially true during the periods of foundation and revitalization. Although necessary for each period in the life-cycle of a community, the techniques of rationality (long-range planning, leadership training, etc.) will never be suf-ficient to found a religious community or to revitalize one. The renewed vitality that comes to some religious communities during the time of transition finds its source in plumbing the depths of.the mythic and non-rational and in-tegrating them with the more rational dimensions of human life. A central insight of the myth of original sin is that humankind is not capable of sustained development; breakdown and disintegration are ever-recurring manifestations of the human condition. Since religious men and women exist within the human condition, it should not be surprising that, from time to time, all religious communities experience an extensive period of significant breakdown and disintegration. These bleak realities should be em-braced with humble acceptance of th~ human condition and a faith-filled hope that the Lord will in time resurrect life-giving initiatives from the death-dealing processes of breakdown. V. Where Does Religious Life Stand Today? In the previous sections of this article, the history of the religious-life movement in the Church and of particular religious communities was ex-amined to determine the major factors within culture, the Church, and 710 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 religious communities themselves that significantly influence the evolution of this movement. Generalizations from the proposed models indicate that major. transitions are likely to occur in religious life when secular culture is in the midst of a major crisis, and when religious life has experienced a period of major breakdown. The factors can serve as a useful matrix for answering the question, "Where does religious life stand today?" As was mentioned in the in-troduction, the answer proposed in this article is that religious life is undergo-ing a pervasive transition that will last for the next twenty to twenty-five years and which will significantly change the style of life and service of religious communities. The plausibility of this assertion is developed in this section. A. Signs of Transition in Secular Culture Many writers have noted that contemporary culture is in the midst of a societal transition. Some compare the present time to the Renaissance. Others claim that the present multifaceted change is equal to if not greater in magnitude than the agricultural and industrial revolutions. Many strands of societal transition have been pointed out. Spiritual, intellectual, philosophical, psychological, political, economic, and many other crises in society have been described by writers from a wide range of disciplines. For the purposes of this article, a cluster of these difficulties, which might be broadly termed the socio-economic crisis, will be summarized below as a sample of the sort of comment on contemporary society being made today. Catastrophic events and critical trends are continually reported by the news media. These reports range from widespread famine in the Sahel and South Asia to the continued downward spiral of the national economy. Careful analysts and writers have noted that these events and trends are a manifestation of the parallel growth of a set of interrelated critical issues which they have designated as the "world problematique.''7 A list of the critical issues that make up the "world problematique" would include: Energy Problems: Runaway growth in domestic and worldwide use of energy; shortages and scarcity of energy; insufficient capital resources to develop new energy sources. Food Problems: Food supply unable to meet the demand for food; worsening of weather conditions through pollution; increasing food prices due to food scarcity and increasing cost and consumption of energy; deterioration of arable land through increased urbaniza-tion and ecological undermining; actual widespread famine; potential long term problems of hunger and famine. Pollution Problems: Rise of pollution-induced illness; exponential increhse in the pollu-tion of the air and seas; denuding of natural environment through strip mining. 7.Some sources used to examine the "world problematique" were Kenneth E. F. Watt, The Titanic Effect: Planning for the Unthinkable (Stanford, Conn.: Sinauer Associates, Inc.); Donella H. Meadows, et al., The Limits to Growth (Washington: Potomac Associates, 1972); Mihajlo Mesarovic and Eduard Pestel, Mankind at the Turning Point (New York: Reader's Digest Press, 1974); Lester R. Brown, In the Human Interest (New York: W. W. Norton, 1974); and Lester R. Brown with Eric P. Eckholm, By Bread Alone (New York: Praeger, 1974). The Recovery of Religious Life / 711 Economic Problems: Growing world inflation; market saturation (e.g. airplanes, elec-tronic equipment, automobiles); instability and manipulation of monetary system, lack of alternatives to growth economics; increasing gap between the "have's" and the "have not's." Work Problems: Increasing unemployment and underemployment; saturation of the labor market; decreased productivity; increasing alienation and dissatisfaction with work; depersonalization of work environments. Problems of Urban Areas: Deterioration of urban areas; increasing crime rates; in-creasing cost of essential urban services. Problems of International Order." Hazards of international competition and war; com-petitive economic policies. What makes the "world problematique" different from problems en-countered in previous eras is its complexity and the pervasive interrelationship of its elements. Hence, the "world problematique" is not amenable to normal methods of problem solving. Attempts to address such critical issues in a singular or joint fashion introduce fundamental dilemmas that do not appear resolvable within conventional modes of thought. Among such dilemmas which seem to be plaguing the contemporary politico-economic situation, four might be singled out: the dilemmas of growth, guidance, global justice, and social roles.8 These dilemmas are delineated more fully in Table 6. One may ask if these problems and dilemmas have not been present during most of the Industrial Era. Are not the problems of the 20's and 30's very much the same as those of the 70's and 80's? What makes the above mentioned problems and dilemmas different is that they have not been ameliorated through the use of conventional wisdom and standard problem-solving ap-proaches. In fact, one may argue that application of these approaches has led to many unanticipated and undesirable consequences. Resolution of the problems and dilemmas is dependent upon a thorough-going shift in social perceptions, involving restructuring of beliefs, images, and human aspirations at a fundamental level. B. Crisis in the Church and the Breakdown in Religious Life The Catholic Church in America has been profoundly influenced by con-temporary change. For at least fifteen years the Church has been experiencing a transition of its life. The Second Vatican Council (1962-1964) was a result of the early stages of this transition and a triggering event for its later stages. The Church began to open itself to a world which was undergoing a dramatic secularization. This opening up or aggiornamento had significant impact on all dimensions of Church life. Parish life and parochial education are no longer the only shapers of the values and beliefs of American Catholics. The once-clear norms and social roles ~vithin the Church no longer seem to serve their original purpose. For example, the Vatican's official position on birth 8The schematization presented in Table 6 is based on the work of Bill Harmon, Director of the Center for the Study of Social Policy, Stanford Research Institute. 712 / Review for Religious, I~'olume 34, 1975/5 TABLE 6: SOME DILEMMAS OF CONTEMPORARY SOCIETY Growth The fundamental "new scarcity" of fossil fuels, minerals, fresh water, arable land, habitable surface area, waste-absorbing capacity of the natural environment, fresh air, and food come from approaching the finite limits of the earth. These limits demand a radical slow down or leveling off in material.growth and energy-use curves of the past.' Yet, the present economic and political system is built around a growth hypothesis. The economic and political consequences of limiting growth appear unbearable. Guidance Dilemma Ecological considerations along with awesome power of modern technology to change any and all aspects of the human environment establish a mandate for greater guidance of technological and social innovation. Yet, the political price of such guidance is very high. Such guidance is perceived as con-trary to man's fundamental right to freedom and as an inhibition to economic growth. Global Justice Dilemma Further advances by the industrialized nations make the rich nations richer and the poor nations relatively poorer. The impressive ac-complishments of the industrial economy are largely built on a base of cleverness plus cheap energy, the latter from the world's limited stockpile of fossil fuels. Yet, the costs of not redressing these inequities may be serious political and economic world instabilities as well as widespread famine and inhuman suffering in the poorer nations. Social Roles Dilemma Present economic system is failing to provide Yet, the absence of satisfying and personally an adequate number of satisfying social roles meaningful roles for women, youth, the especially for women and minorities. The aged, and minorities along with worker employment market is saturated; there is a dissatisfaction in general results in in-need to keep youth and the aged out of the creased I~ersonal alienation and erodes labor market, the morale of the nation. control is considered unacceptableto an increasingly large number of Catholics. Difficulties are arising in the functioning of such Church structures as the priesthood and the traditional role of the laity and of such Church institutions as parishes, schoo|s, and hospitals. Their once-unquestioned role within the Church no longer seems to satisfy the needs of an increasingly large number of church members. This crisis and transition within the Church has had a dramatic effect on religious communities of women and men. Religious communities have begun to experience all of the signs of entering into the breakdown and disintegration period described earlier in this article. There has been a sharp decline in membership due to increased withdrawals and a decrease in new recruits. Re- The Recovery of Religious Life / 713 cent literature9 gives a statistical picture of this breakdown in the United States. - A recent National Opinion Research Center study indicated there is a larger relative number of resignees among those already established in church careers than in any other equivalent period of time since the French Revolution. - For the years between 1965 and 1972 66% of the yearly decrease in communities of religious women was due to dispensation or termination of vows. In communities of religious women the average annual net increase over these years was approximately 768 members, the average annual net decrease was 3841, with only one-third of that loss caused by deaths. - The total number of Sisters in 1974 had declined 17% from 1960 and 23% since their peak membership year in 1966. - The total number of religious Brothers in 1974 had decreased 12% since 1960 and 26.5% since their peak membership year in 1966. The purposes of religious communities which were once clear and widely understood have become vague and meaningless to some in the midst of the modern church crisis. The structures of authority and process of communica-tion and decision making within religious communities seem no longer to fit the needs of the individuals within the community or suit the evolving work of the communities. The processes of formation to religious community have sometimes become disorganized and seem to lack purpose. These and other signs indicate that the last fifteen to twenty years have been a time when most religious com-munities have begun to experience breakdown. This cluster of the signs of breakdown in virtually all communities seems to indicate that we are ap-proaching the end of another major era in the history of religious life. C. Restatement of the Bias This review of the transitions in secular culture as well as the current crisis of the Church allows us to use the historical and sociological models of the evolution of religious life and religious communities outlined in the previous sections to answer the question "Where does religious life stand today?" In the introduction of this article, an answer was given in what was called the fun-damental bias of the article, namely, that religious life in America is undergo-ing a profound transition, which will take another twenty or twenty-five years to run its full course. The arguments leading up to this bias can be set forth as follows: 1. The dominant image of religious life has undergone several major tran-sitions as religious life has evolved as a movement within the Church. 2. The occurrence of these major transitions is associated with a number 9Carroll W. Trageson and Pat Holden, "Existence and Analysis of the 'Vocation Crisis' in Religious Careers," (pp. 1-3) in Carroll W. Trageson, John P. Koval, and Willis E. Bartlett (eds.), Report on Study of Church Vo

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The Mercury December, 1908 HEEP THOSE WHO HEEP US. The Intercollegiate Bureau of Academic Costume. Cotrell & Leonard, ALBANY, N. Y. 2**£™°I CAPS AND GOWNS TII Gettysburg College. Lafayette, Lchigh. Dickinson, State College, Univ. of Penn s> Ivani i. Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Wellesley, Bryn Mawr and the others. Class Contracts a Specialty. Correct Hoods _»»■ Degrees. The College Man's Opportunity. We offer the Surest Means of finding your right place. Hundreds of good positions open in business, in teaching and in technical work. Offices in 12 cities. Write us to-day. TUB JYMTJOJVJZ, OB»^JVIZJlTIOJV Of BXAIJV BHOXBJtS. Commonwealth Trust Building, Philadelphia, Pa. HOTEL GETTYSBURG, Headquarters for BANQUETS. Electric Lights, Steam Heat, All Conveniences. Free Bus to and from station. Convenient for Commencement Visitors. BATES $2.00 PEB DAY. £iver-y Cttad-ied. Jotin P. M^tifl- Proprietor. DEALERS IN All kinds of Fresh and Smoked Meats Chambersburg St., Gettysburg, Pa. WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. Established 1867 by Allen Walton. ALLEN K. WALTON, Pres. and Treas. ROBT. J. WALTON, Supt. Hummelstown Brown Stone Company, QUARRYMEN and Manufacturers of BUILDING STONE, SAWED FLAGGING and TILE. WalioTwille, 33a.-LiprT.-Ln. -&o., Pa,. CONTRACTORS FOR ALL KINDS OF CUT STONE WORK. Telegrapn and Express Address, Brownstone, Pa. Parties visit-ing quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. R. For Artistic Photographs Go To TIPTOJV The Leader in PHOTO FASHIONS Frames and Passapartouts Made to Order. PATRONISE OUR ADVERTISERS Come and Have a Good Shave or Hair Cut —AT— Harry B. Sefton's BARBER SHOP. 35 Baltimore St. Barber's Supplies a Specialty. Also choice line of Cigars. SHOES REPAIRED -BY-Charles Hartdagen, Middle St., Opp. Court House, GUARANTEE ALL WORK. GETTYSBURG DEPARTMENT STOKE. Successors to the L. M. Alleman Hardware Co., Manufacturer's Agent and Jobber of HARDWARE, OILS, PAINTS AND QUEENSWARE, GETTYSBURG, PA. Vke only Jobbing House in Adams County. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. 2 * * » | Seligniqi] I * % 1 ^ B^etim | !t ** 2 Are Gettysburg's Most * * * aV * « v. « «» V* t- * * * * -3 Reliable TAILORS #»»**###*#**#*****»*** PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. i^l^^^^i^^^^^^i^i^^i^^r'i^M^l^.y^yi^-^i^^i^: as ;!. .1.1I ■>!•■ II IIfI Essentially the instruments for criti-cal and discriminating- buyers. Super-ior in every detail of construction and superb instruments for the production of a great Variety of musical effects and the finest shades of expression. Close Prices. Easy Terms. Old Instruments Exchanged. WEAVER ORGAN AND PIANO CO., MANUFACTURERS, YORK, PA , U S A. \&i^iAtt%zi&Zfc5%'i$te*&*&M$',?¥:&& s Headquarters —FOR-HATS, SHOES, A*TD GENT'S FURNISHING. Sole Agent lor WALK-OVER SHOE EGBERT'S STORE. Prices Always Right Itje Lutheran Mlieirtloji Society No 1424 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Colleges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY 8. BONER, Supt, THE KAERCURV The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College. VOL. XVI GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER, 1908 No. 7 CONTENTS. A CHRISTMAS POEM 2 E. J. BOWMAN, '11. JUSTIFICATION OP THE BOYCOTT 3 E. E. SNTDER, '09. CONSTITUTION OP THE KEYSTONE DEBATING LEAGUE 7 IS THE GOVERNMENT COSTING US TOO MUCH?. 9 P. S. DENGLER, '09. OUR LITERARY SOCIETIES II.—PHRENA 11 WHY IS GETTYSBURG NOT WEALTHY? 13 ST. G. PHILLIPY, '09. THE JUNIOR "PROM" SOCIALLY CONSIDERED. .15 BIOGRAPHY OF SCHILLER 17 MISS BAUSCH, '11. CULTURE'S DISTRESSING FOE 20 G. E. WOLF, '09. THE ECONOMIC ASPECTS OF THE LINCOLN ROAD.22 G. L. KIEFFER, '09. THE "INDIAN STEPS." 23 E. C. STOUFFER, '11. THE INVESTIGATION OF THE FARMER; WHAT IS IT LIKELY TO BE WORTH? 25 MISS HELEN H. BRENNEMAN, '08. EDITORIALS 27 BOOK REVIEWS 29 EXCHANGES 30 THE MERCURY A CHRISTMAS POEM. E. J. BOWMAN, '11. .Behold the earth in solemn stillness lies! Again, his course traversed, the king of day Has sunk beneath the distant mountain tops. No longer glows in radiance the sky, But silent night enshrouds the wearied earth. No sound of man or beast comes forth to break The charm that over all has cast its spell. And far above from out the folds of heaven's Aetherial dome, the stars innumerable and Sublime are smiling on the earth below. All nature bows her head in reverence, thus- The God of Peace to laud and magnify. 'Twas such a night when from far Eastern lands, O'er mountains high, through valleys deep, Wise Men? Their way were tracing, guided by a star Outshining all the innumerable host That spangled all the heaven's majestic dome- When lo o'er Judah's city, Bethlehem, It stopped, and there, within a lowly hut, Behold, asleep within a manger lay The Holy One, the Buler of the Wise, By seers announced and prophets long before- 'Twas such a night when on the rolling hills O'erlooking David's City, Bethlehem, The humble shepherds, holy and devout, Their flocks were guarding from the hostile foe That roamed o'er hill and plain in quest of prey- When lo, the glory of the living God Around them shown, and, standing in their midst They saw the form of One divine in robe Of heavenly light, and in a tender voice The Messenger addressed the shepherds thus: "Fear not, I bring you tidings of great joy, THE MERCURY. To you, I bring them and to all mankind: In yonder Bethlehem is born this day A child, who is your Saviour and your Lord." Then while the shepherds filled with awe, o'er this Mysterious scene were meditating deep, Their gaze beheld a heavenly host in robes Of shining white around the Messenger Of love. Then forth upon the hallowed night The mellow strains of heavenly music broke, And there alone by God's own chosen few "Was heard the anthem of the Christmas-tide: "To God on high be glory evermore And upon earth goodwill and peace to men." JUSTIFICATION OF THE BOYCOTT. E. E. SNYDER, '09. JHE justification of the boycott is by no means an easy task. Its practice and its underlying principle have always been questioned and in view of the advanced and radical ground taken by both its advocates and its opponents, a careful study of the boycott, its history, its develop-ment, its modern forms, and its ultimate object, is necessary to enable us to pass judgment upon it, either favorable or unfavor-able. The term originated in 1880 when Captain Boycott, an Eng-lishman, who was the agent of Lord Barne in the Connemara district of Ireland, became so obnoxious because of his harsh treatment of the tenants, that they retaliated by inducing the people for miles around to have nothing whatever to do with him. They would neither speak to him, work for him; buy from him, sell to him, or in any way connect themselves with him. More than this they resorted to violence and even blood-shed, to prevent others from doing so. But this was not the ori-gin of the practice although it gave rise to the term. The prac- 4 THE MERCURY. tice extends almost as far back as history itself. In 1327 the citizens of Canterbury, England, boycotted the monks of Christ's Church. They refused to inhabit the houses of the prior, and passed an ordinance that no one should buy, sell, or exchange drink or victuals with the monastery. A severe punishment was provided against the disobedience of the order. The first use of the boycott in America was during the period just preceding the Eevolution, when the colonists boycotted several articles of British make. This culminated in the Boston Tea Part}', which was advocated and supported by our best and most patriotic citizens. Thus the advocates of the boycott claim that it was born in the cradle of American liberty. It was a great weapon, used by the Abolutionists against slavery, and it has often been used by ministers and others prominent in the social world against intemperance, immorality and other social evils. It has been used by the Manufacturer's Association against the work-ingmen, but here it is known as the "black list," and in this form it has ruined thousands of poor laborers. It has also been used by the laborers, in retaliation against the capitalists and it is this use which represents what we today recognize as the boy-cott. Thus from its history we might define boycott in its original usage, as meaning a combination of many to cause loss to one person by refusing to have any relations with him and by influ-encing and coercing others to treat him in like manner. In re-taliation for some wrong either real or imaginary, they withdraw from the victim all beneficial intercourse and even resort to force, in order to persuade others to do likewise. Today the term boy-cott means a combination of many usually organized working-men against an individual or a combination, through which they seek by withdrawing their support and services to secure redress for some infringement upon their rights. It,is this use that we would attempt to justify. The boycott, as has been mentioned, is but another name for the "black list," although it is usually practiced with a nobler end in view. The boycott usually seeks redress for wrongs, while the "black list" disregards the justice of its object and seeks only additional advantages by this coercive means. Yet the capital-ists raise a great cry of injustice when the boycott appears,, and shall be defined by the college that submits the question. THE MERCURY. lose no time in making their appeal to the courts for injunction and protection, although they are daily and yearly practicing the same principle against the laborer who can seek justice through no other means. But in this case it is the poor man's ox, that is gored instead of the rich man's, and if he would resist or seek redress, he is pointed out as dangerously affected by socialistic principles, and often suffers for trying to maintain a right guar-anteed to all by our Constitution. In practice, also, the boycott has changed, and few of the ob-noxious and injurious characteristics of the ancient boycott re-main. The boycott, as practiced at present, as has been stated, is simply the ostracism of an individual or organization, by an organization in order to secure, what they believe to be their rights. It may result in great pecuniary loss to the victim and because of this fact has often been restrained by injunction, but ■no violence attaches to it; no personal harm or injury, and in many cases individual bitterness has been eliminated. No force or coercion is used outside the obligations of membership in the contending organization, although, this fact is often changed, .and it is true that many organizations do take up the fight in sympathy. It is, when rightly used, but an effective weapon in the hands of the laborer by the use of which he is able to secure consideration and justice, when other means have failed, and as such its use is justifiable. From the laborer's standpoint its use possesses considerable economic importance, for it is only by its use, through the me-dium of his organization that he can battle, with any degree of success against the oftimes higher intelligence and more perfect organization of his employers, the capitalists. In this age, the tendency of each class, seems to be to gain wealth regardless of the loss, they may occasion. To the laborers, the boycott, is one of the few barriers that stand between him and a lower standard of living, which would be the inevitable result, were these barriers removed. Our eco-nomic welfare depends upon progress in every class. If the laborer is to share this progress he must advance and not recede. He must raise his standard of living, his culture and his edu- •cation instead of lowering them. To do this he must be in con-tinual conflict with the capitalist, who is his superior in educa- THE MERCURY. tion, and had an additional advantage because of his capital. The boycott has proved to be one of the few things which the •capitalists have not been able to overcome, and as its use enables the laborers to maintain his ground in the conflict for advance-ment, it is certainly justifiable. The boycott can also be regarded, as simply the practice of the right guaranteed to each citizen by our government, to say, write, or publish, anything he wishes, on his own responsibility. This is what the laborer claims for the boycott. He certainly has the right to govern his own words and dealings and to use his influence with others so long as he advocates a just cause and uses no coercive measures to secure adherents. This represents the workingman's idea of the boycott, and while it must be ad-mitted that it is here pictured in its most favorable form, and •that it is seldom practiced within the prescribed limits, yet the argument is founded upon a basis of justice and many decisions of higher courts have recognized this fact. As a last claim, we would advance the boycott, as the only ef-fective weapon against the "black list." No man has a right to work permanent ruin to another because of individual difference of opinion nor has an organization a similar right, and since the employer often uses this means against the employee, the laborer has a right to defend himself by the boycott. It is a hard and bitter solution to the problem. It is the Old Testament dispen-sation, "An eye for an eye." but when we consider that the con- 'ditions, from an ethical standpoint are far from normal, we must be satisfied if they do require abnormal means. Thus would we justify the boycott, from an economical view-point, but when we turn on our question the light of an ethical culture, we find it again questionable and we are compelled to ask ourselves the question, "Is there in the business activity of today, as represented by the masses on both sides, a point where ;an individual can retain pure ethical ideals and secure true eco-nomic good?" Perhaps in the masses there is not, but it is pleasing to note that here and there in the great business hustle of our age, we see sturdy advocates of a higher principle emerg-ing from the ranks of both contestants and when these shall have gained a majority the justification of the boycott will be impos-sible, but not until then. THE MERCURY. 7 CONSTITUTION OF THE KEYSTONE DEBATING LEAGUE. ARTICLE I. NAME AND MEMBERSHIP. This organization shall be known as the Keystone Inter-Colle-giate Debating League and shall have the following members: Bueknell, Lafayette and Gettysburg Colleges. ARTICLE II. PURPOSE. The purpose of this organization shall be to increase interest in debating in each of the colleges represented and to encourage inter-collegiate debating. ARTICLE III. ORGANIZATION. The executive committee shall consist of one undergraduate from each college represented and shall meet annually at the time and place of the final debate to transact all business of the League. ARTICLE IV. CONTESTANTS. Each college shall send to the contest in which it participates three representatives. Contestants shall be regularly enrolled students in the collegiate department taking at least ten hours of recitation or lecture work per week. The names of the de-baters and alternate shall be submitted to the opposing team at least ten days before the debate. No college shall protest the-eligibility of a debater later than five days before the debate. ARTICLE V. SELECTION OF QUESTION. The question for debate shall be submitted not later than six weeks and returned not later than five weeks before the debate is to be held. The college that receives the question shall select sides. No college shall submit the question to the other college twice in succession. Terms in the question, if not understood. THE MERCURY. ARTICLE VI. JUDGES. The college at which the debate is held shall submit to the visiting team at least four weeks before the debate the names of prospective judges. The visiting team may strike from the list any of "the names and shall return the remainder within one week designating the order of preference. No personal friend of any contestant and no one having had student of official relations with either of the colleges involved, shall be eligible for appoint-ment as judges. At the close of the contest, without conference-with his associates, each of the three judges, deciding for him-self, shall give his vote duly signed and sealed to the presiding officer who shall announce the decision. The judges shall base their decision on argument and composition and delivery; argu-ment to count sixty per cent., composition and delivery forty per cent. ARTICLE VII. CONTEST. The college at which the debate is held shall select the presid-ing officer. Each debater shall have fifteen minutes; ten min-utes for his opening speech and five minutes for rebuttal. The first speech in rebuttal shall be made by the negative, and the-affirmative shall close the debate. The order of speakers in re-buttal shall be left to the discretion of the respective teams. No> new material shall be introduced in rebuttal speeches. ARTICLE VIII. EXPENSES. At the annual meeting of the Executive Committee, each col-lege shall present an itemized statement of its expenses necessary for the year. This expense shall be born equally by the colleges-of the League. TIIE MERCURY. IS THE GOVERNMENT COSTING US TOO MUCH. F. S. DEX3LER, '09. F wo except the most active period of the Civil War, the total drafts upon the Treasury of the U. S. during the past Congresshavebeengreater than at any period in our history. The total appropriations made by Congress dur-ing the Civil War were $1,309,000,000 of which $1,030,000,000 was spent upon the army. The appropriations for the fiscal year 1909 reached a total of $1,007,000,000. In these days, when private fortunes sometimes run up to a hundred million dollars we are liable not to realize how large a sum a billion dol-lars really is. It would take an expert counter, working eight hours a day, over one hundred years to count a billion silver ■dollars. A billion dollars in twenty dollar bills would make a pile 13,750 feet high. What is all this money used for? The expenditures may be classed under three general heads: Postal Service, $225,000,000. Military Service, $500,000,000. Other Government Service, $225,000,000. The largest appropriation for a single department was that for the post office. The postal service is one of the greatest utilities which the government gives to the people and one which the peo-ple can appreciate every day. The post offices scattered all over the land turn into the postal department a large revenue each year but it is not sufficient to run the service. The quarter of a billion dollars is disbursed through many channels. The sal-aries of postmasters, clerks, carriers and messengers total in the millions. The railroads come in for a large amount for carrying the mail. The rural delivery was established in recent years at a cost of about $25,000,000. A bill was proposed at the last Congress to establish a rural parcels post, but it was not passed. The most significant feature of the appropriations during the year is the great amount of attention that has been given to the building up of the military branch of the government. The ex-penditures for the army and navy, if we leave out of account the years when the country was engaged in war, have been the larg-est in the history of the country. The army was granted $95,- 10 THE MERCURY. 000,000; the navy, $123,000,000; the amount $163,000,000 for pensions should be included. The remainder of the half billion dollars is spent for fortifications, military and naval academies, soldiers' homes, arsenals, armories,'navy yards and numerous other things of a similar nature. The total expenditures for military purposes, direct or indirect, is truly a colossal sum when we bear in mind that our standing army today is not over 70,000. The sending of our fleet around the world is an event in history—an event which cannot fail to have a good influence. While we may be a peaceful nation, it will show that we have strength enough to protect ourselves in time of trouble. Some people think that our navy is too large. They say that our ships have nothing to do and then they get into trouble as in the cap-turing of the Philippine Islands. The remaining quarter of a billion dollars goes for a great number of things. The Agricultural Department, the Diplo-matic and Consular service, the Indian Bill, the different bu-reaus and public works are all included. We have seen where the money goes. Now, where does it come from? The revenues of the government amount to about $800,000,000 and this will leave a deficit of about $200,000,000. The treasury has a surplus of $250,000,000 to meet this. If this is not sufficient bonds can be sold. The Speaker of the House and the House itself keep restrain-ing hands on the extravagant tendencies of the varioifs commit-tees. The tendency of Congress to spend money is increasing at an appalling rate. The money appropriated by last Congress would have run the government during the decade ending 1896. These periods are both far enough removed from the Spanish War not to be materially affected by it. The world has advanced and moved forward since 1896, but not to such an extent as to warrant the rate of increase of running the government. There seems to be a leakage somewhere. Congress should remember that even a million dollars does not flow into the treasury of its own accord but it is pushed in and that as a result of the sweat of many brows. This does not mean that a narrow-minded policy should be adopted. The American people are willing to pay well to keep their country in the front ranks of the army of THE MEKCUEY. 11 progress. The last Congress has made a record in appropriating, public money and it is up to Congress to make a record in the-spending of it. OUR LITERARY SOCIETIES II—PHRENA. N the account of Philo which was published last month we find much that is very similar to the history of" Phrena The Phrenakosmian Literary Society was founded Feb. 4th, 1831, in Linwood Hall. At the second regular meet-ing a constitution and by-laws were presented and adopted. We are fortunate in having the original copy in an excellent state of preservation. Although frequently modified and amended, this historic document retains its original and noble spirit. The whole aim of its authors and zealous defenders is admirably ex-pressed by this, the motto of the Society: Kocr/m T/iv peva. There also exists the minutes of all the meetings that have been held since the Society was organized. These also have been well cared for and may be found among the treasures of the li-brary. As for Phrena's library, it can be said that it contains 5,845 volumes, which are the results of the energetic exertions of our members. Various catalogues of these books have been made for the use of our members, but most of them are not suitable for reference work. The Society is now indebted to George Heintz. '09 for a complete card index of the library. This not only en-hances the value of the present, collection of books but insures to us the proper recognition, care, and usefulness of any works we may add. Other property of value has accrued to the Society. In 1837r when Phrena was given a large and convenient room in the new college building (Old Dorm.), efforts were immediately made to secure suitable furniture. Here again the characteristic as-siduity of Phrena's members was triumphant. Improvements have been made from year to year, and the present beautiful ap-pearance of our hall furnishes sufficient evidence of the energy 12 THE MERCURY. as well as the taste of those by whom it was accomplished. The-present apartment in Eecitation Hall is elegantly furnished. Busts of Franklin, Webster, Cicero and Demosthenes have appro-priate places on the walls. The walls are also decorated with portraits of those Phrenakosmians who have done honor to their Alma Mater by becoming capable to hold professorships in our college. The Society has helped men individually, and has contributed much to the health of college spirit. A literary contest in which much spirit is shown, is held each year, with our sister society, Philo. Formerly it was the custom of the two societies to join at commencement time and be addressed by an honorary mem-ber of each society, alternately. In earlier years, of those be-longing to Phrena, and Eev. E. J. Breckenridge, D.D. officiated in 1842, Eev. T. H. Stockton, D.D. in 1844, and Eev. George B. Cheener, D.D. Much time and labor could be spent in arranging the inter-esting events of Phrena's history, but the space on these pages-does not permit the presentation in detail of very much con-tained in the Society's records. Suffice it to say, the work of those who have gone before should be gratifying to us as presag-ing that like privileges and honors are in store for their succes-sors. With the same noble aspirations and unalterable determi-nation let us be true to our literary societies as were those who have gained so much by supporting them. At present, Phrena is wide awake, doing excellent work and living true to the spirit of her fathers. THE MEECUEY. 13 WHY IS GETTYSBURG NOT WEALTHY ? N. G. PHILLIPY, '09. N" treating this question we will consider the people as a whole, taking as broad a view as possible under the cir-cumstances. According to Webster, wealth means large possessions, opulence, riches. Of course we could not compare Gettysburg with a large city and expect the same amount of wealth, but should more properly compare it with smaller towns of its own size. One of the foremost reasons why Gettysburg is not wealthy is the lack of industries conducted on a large scale. We find no shops or anything of a like nature whereby the owners or entre-preneur can amass a fortune. The ordinary workman cannot collect a fortune as nearly all his wages are used to support his: family. As a rule where there are no large enterprises located we find little wealth. It is true the location of the town geo-graphically may be accountable for the lack of industries, but this does not demand consideration under the present question. The lack of employment for men accounts for the slow in-crease in population. An increase in the value of land and property depends largely upon an increase in population and as the values of each remain nearly the same from year to year, speculation and investments in this line are unprofitable and unremunerative in Gettysburg. The country surrounding the town is not so very fertile and agriculture is not as productive as we find in many other locali-ties. Very few agricultural products are put on the market by the farmers near the town in any great quantity. We do not find minerals profitable for mining in the neighboring localities so very little shipping is carried on. 'Eailroads depend on freight for their profits and when there is little transportation railroad facilities are usually poor. Being located inland the people have not the opportunity to carry on markets or any other pursuit which water affords. The people themselves, have a great influence on any town. If we make a careful study of the people and their pursuits we have partly, at least, the solution of our problem. In our study 14 THE MERCURY. we must take into account their likes and dislikes, their desires,, their ambitions and their doings. The people as a whole are of a retiring nature. There seems: to be little greed for money and little ambition to amass a great, fortune. Each individual is actuated by a desire to live com-, fortably and save enough to keep himself and family during old age. Judging from appearances everybody is contented and happy, a condition which is proof of the statement that the de-sire for riches is lacking. We find the population as a body, industrious, being em-ployed at different occupations. An unusual number are en-gaged in educational work who labor more for knowledge and the pleasure afforded thereby, than for the money received for their work. It is natural in a college town to have cultured people. Peo-ple of culture and refinement have their surroundings fashioned after their ideas and influence the whole community. This class has certainly added much to the community. The battlefield also attracts many well-to-do people who come here to. live a retired life and to enjoy the beautiful surroundings. In Gettysburg, if a man is not engaged in educational work, he is in sympathy with it and usually formulates his opinions accord-ingly. In conclusion, the people are interested in their personal welfare, mentally as well as physically, and do not have the de-. sire for great wealth as their sole ambition. THE JIEUCURY. 15 THE JUNIOR "PROM" SOCIALLY CONSIDERED. CLL consideration of the social significance of the Junior Prom naturally involves a taking into account the general social life of the college community. For it is obvious that the character and tone of this annual function must, to a large extent, be determined by the social life as it is developed throughout the year. And since the Junior Prom is just in its infancy,—in its formative period,—this pa-per shall be both critical and suggestive. The social life of our college seems to be the characteristic so-cial life of colleges in general. It is very different from the so-cial life that existed in earlier years of the college. New condi-tions in the social structure at large, together with the increased number of students, have all contributed to the existent social status in the college community. The present exclusive tenden-cies in modern family life, unknown to our forefathers, cannot fail to produce like tendencies among a body of students; the social product developed in our college is, in short, but an out-growth of the existing trend of home life. Though the number of students in any one college is really small, when compared with the number enrolled in a modern university, yet it has grown so that no longer can the authorities of even the small college boast that theirs is the privilege of easily acting in loco parentis, and of forming with the student body a well regulated family. Instead of one united family, thoroughly democratic in its workings and with a reasonably common purpose and as-piration, the student body has been organized by the fraternity into many little families, each with its distinctive membership making of paramount importance the promotion of its own inter-ests and those of its individual members. The college authori-ties have, in other words, failed to meet new conditions by their failure to provide a sane and invigorating college family atmos-phere for the student to grow in, and it should not be surprising, therefore, that the students have themselves provided their own substitute, inferior though it may be. The fraternity is not lacking in provsions for the diversion of 16 THE MERCURY. its members. Numerous social events are held during the year, and occasionally an inter-fraternity function is arranged. Be-tween the members of this organized portion of the student body, who are thus frequently brought together, there naturally is formed a rather strong attachment. But how about the unorga-nized portion, which is comprised, for any one of several reasons, of the men whom the fraternity has not attracted? The social opportunities of most of these men are not only more limited, they are also more individualistic. That there should be a cer-tain divergence, therefore, between the fraternity and non-fra-ternity element is not to be wondered at. The Junior Prom is a step in the direction of preventing this divergence. Every element in the student body is to be repre-sented as far as possible on a common basis. The possibilities of general good fellowship are on this occasion to be fully pre-sented and fostered. Men who are seldom to be found in com-pany of their fellows in a purely social way are to find in the Junior Prom an opportunity of seeing what such commingling means for a man and for the community. Men to whom this is not a new experience are to find pleasure in assisting the unini-tiated over the stony places. The realization of all this could not, of course, be expected in the two times in which the Junior Prom has been held. Indeed it may require several more years to accomplish the desired re-sults. It seems very apparent, however, that tendencies point in the right direction. Last year's Prom marked an improvement over the first, in that dancing was not the exclusive feature of the occasion. Provision was made, though not of a sufficiently definite and attractive character, for those who do not dance. This is not passing judgment upon dancing as a means of di-version; it does mean to imply, however, that to allow dancing or any other form of diversion to become the exclusive feature of a social event indicates a distortion that cannot fail to prove exceedingly narrowing. It implies, too, that it is altogether un-fair to expect those who do not dance to attend an affair which provides definitely only for those who do dance, and which gives dancing such predominant or exclusive place that real com-mingling is impossible. Dancing has become such a mighty factor in the social life of young people everywhere that it is not THE MERCUttY. 17 surprising that it has gained a considerable foothold in our col-leges, but to permit it to have the ascendency at an event, such as the Junior Prom, which contemplates the presence of a large number who do not dance, shows great inconsiderateness and means the blasting of the real significance of the Prom. The far-reaching influence of the Junior Prom, properly regu-lated, can hardly be appreciated at this early stage in its evolu-tion, but to behold its possibilities along the lines indicated should be sufficient to impel us to assist in its proper develop-ment. A. ± A BIOGRAPHY OF SCHILLER. MISS- MARY BAUSCH, '11. JOHANJST Christoph Frederick Schiller was born at Mar-bach, in Wurtemburg, Germany, Nov. 10, 1759. He was the only son of Johann Casper Schiller, an officer in the Wurtemburg army, who held an inferior position in the Duke of Wurtemburg's household. The elder Schiller is was a man of great strength of character. To him Schiller is indebted for his firm and positive traits. His mother, Elizabeth Dorothea Kodweis, the daughter of an innkeeper at Marbach, was just the opposite of her husband in temperament, of strong yet gentle demeanor, full of simple charm and wisdom. We can see deep traces of this mother's sweetness and gentleness in the life of the gifted poet. Schiller did not find it easy to choose a profession. He first attended school at the village of Loech, where influenced by Par-son Moser, his teacher, he prepared himself for the clerical pro-fession. These plans were thwarted by the Duke of Wurtem-burg. He next entered the public school at Ludwigsburg. At the age of fourteen, he became a student at the military academy near Solitude Park, Ludwigsburg, the Duke wishing to have his services for the state. There he pursued the study of law, which was very repugnant to him. After two years had passed he 18 THE MERC PET. gave this up, and began the study of medicine, and was subse-quently appointed regimental surgeon. During this time, however, he was engaged in. the study of lit- 'erature. He was especially fond of the classics and became very proficient in Greek. His knowledge of Greek philosophy is ap-parent in his writings. His first work of note, "The Eobbers," he completed before he was twenty-two years old. Schiller pro-tested in this work against the restraints which he felt the Duke had unjustly forced upon him. Fearing the Duke whose wrath he had thus kindled, he fled to Mannheim. There he passed through many hardships, one reverse of fortune followed an-other. But still he continued to write. Schiller's first play in verse was "Don Carlos,'"' which was pre-sented at Hamburg in August, 1787. The Duke of Weimar, whose interest had been aroused in the young poet, made him one of the counsellors of his court. Upon his arrival at Weimar, Schiller was introduced to Goethe. This acquaintance subse-quently ripened into a close friendship. Early in December, 1788, Schiller's "History of the Eevolt of the Netherlands" was published. This work brought the best results, financially, which he had yet received. It not only had a rapid sale but it aroused the attention of the intellectual world. Through the influence of Goethe, he was offered a professorship in history at the University of Jena which after some hesitation he accepted. On Feb. 22, 1790, he was married to Charlotte von Lengefeld, a most admirable woman who aided him greatly in his life work. A very busy life opened to Schiller while at Jena. It was not unusual for him to spend fourteen hours daily in lecturing and writing. But the strain of such heavy work was too great for a man so delicately constituted as Schiller. A dangerous pulmonary dis-ease overtook him so that he was forced to give up his position as instructor in the university. Then through a generous gift he was enabled to revisit Wurtemburg, where he remained almost a year. In May 1794, he returned to Jena much improved in health although never again entirely well. The period between 1796 and 1800 was especially rich in lyrical productions, of which "Der Taucher," and "Das Leid von THE MERCURY. 1$ der Glocke " aTe prominent. The latter has been considered the best known of Schiller's poems. It deals with the most dra-matic events in the life of man. His great works, "Wallenstein" and "Maria Stuart" followed in close succession. Next came "Die Jungfrau von Orleans" in 1801, "Die Brant von Messina" in 1803, and "Wilhelm Tell," the last and perhaps greatest of his works, in 1801:. In this last great tragedy, Schil-ler portrays with wonderful power the Swiss resistance to tyr-anny. He causes the leader, Wilhelm Tell to stand elevated as a national hero. In all his writings, Schiller's love of liberty and hatred of despotism is manifest, but in none so much as in Wilhelm Tell. Schiller had now reached the zenith of his glory. His man-ners and appearance had improved. The timidity and conscious-ness of youth was replaced by the dignity and ease of more ma-ture years. He was overwhelmed with public honors and enthu-siastically received everywhere he went. But alas, when prosperity and fame seemed permanently se-cured to him, the dread disease which had undermined his health again overtook him. He endured this last trouble with great fortitude; though he had to pass through many trials yet his spirit seemed as it were to soar above them all. He continued to work until at last, his weakened powers being overcome, he passed away on May 9,, 1805, at the age of forty-five. The news, of his death brought universal grief to Germany. 20 TKE MEKCURY. CULTURE'S DISTRESSING FOE. G. E. WOLFE, '09. UST as men err in making happiness a distinct end, so do they err by putting culture in a similar position. And just as they deceive themselves by trying to pro-cure happiness as they would some commodity, so they deceive themselves by like attempts to gain culture. Life would indeed be a barren thing, if it were not enriched by our capacity for happiness and culture, but it is worse than barren where there is a false conception of these enrichments. That culture should be perverted to such an extent that men would make it a fad, seems almost inconceivable, yet that is what the intellectually curious and the socially idle made it some twenty years ago. What abhorrence must have been aroused in all who possessed true cultural instincts! For a fad is always a sham—a gross perversion—and a sham in the world of art ox-literature begets a peculiar offensiveness and hatred. The short-cut, superficial methods employed in pursuing this culture fad must have been entirely detestable to all serious-minded and sin-cere people. Could it be otherwise, with genuine culture possess-ing the rich qualities of ripeness and maturity in taste, intellect and culture ? How crude and defective the sham in the presence of the real! But this perversion, while more pronounced at certain periods, lias not been confined to one or two decades. Haste and arti-ficiality have always been employed by men, in their eagerness to possess the charming ripeness and greatness of soul which mark the truly cultured man. Recent years, however, have de-veloped a new condition, the recognition of which requires no unusual insight. There has developed a foe to culture which is distressing, not simply because it is aiming at culture by per-verse methods, but because it is entirely at variance with true cul-ture and lias so widely disseminated its influence that one may rightly inquire whether the true cultural instinct will not even-tually be quenched on account of it. "Smartness" is not a modern product by any means, but never has it captivated a people as it has the present generation; never THE MERCURY 21 has it held such predominant sway. Strictly speaking this spirit belongs to the world of mediocrity, but so important has it be-come that it claims recognition as the "real thing" from alL We have our so-called "smart sets," but the spirit of smartness in these days finds fruitful soil among all classes—as well among the wealthy as among the not-rich, as well among the intelligent as among the unlettered. And it is this, we believe, that today constitutes culture's distressing foe: it is this that makes impera-tive the loud calls, "Let Us Go Back"—in the direction of "The Simple Life." Not that there are no more who possess true culture, or who are eager to possess it. There are such indeed, but so effectually has the "sporty" microbe been doing its work in the rising gen-eration, that quiet people have well-nigh been driven to despera-tion, those with undeveloped cultural instincts have been tainted or entirely diverted and others never get a desire for cultural pursuit at all. One does not have to be a pessimist to be conscious of the fact that it is the fashion for everybody to be gay; that we are all called upon to persevere in a gala atmosphere. From the ex-treme solemnity of bearing that characterized our forefathers we have swung clear to the opposite extreme. It is impossible not to come in contact constantly with the cheap jargon that is everywhere afloat; with the lightness, cyni-cism and insinuation of immoral sentiment which marks the con-versation of popular young people. Fashionable clothes and jaunty manners never played as prominent a role as today. Plain, unassuming people, to whom this pertness and super-, ciliousness is extremely repulsive, are wondering when there will \ be a reaction toward the sane and rational. Surely the reaction-must come, and parents and educators have no more important duty before them than to seek to obliterate this spirit of sm^rt-. ness. THE MEECUEY. THE ECONOMIC ASPECTS OF THE LINCOLN ROAD. G. L. KIEFFEK, '09. JJST order to consider this subject properly, we must first inquire into the nature of the proposed "road." There-fore, briefly, "The Lincoln Eoad" is a proposed na-tional memorial to Abraham Lincoln. The "road" is to be a grand boulevard joining Washington, D. C, with Gettysburg, Pa. Its two hundred feet of width are to be occupied by green-sward plots, hedges, and trees, a speedway for automobiles, a driveway for carriages and wagons, two double-tracked electric railways, the one for express trains and the other for local trains. The very nature of the proposed "road" declares that it shall be equally open to both the rich and the poor. This being true it will be the means of bringing to Gettysburg, for at least a day, many of the hundreds of thousands of tourists that annually visit Washington. Hence with all this traffic, the very "road" itself might become an economic asset to the United States gov-ernment. To accommodate these people appropriate hotels would have to be maintained in Gettysburg. The present hotels and restau-rants would have to be renovated and enlarged. New ones also would have to be erected. A higher standard would be the order of the day for all Gettysburg hotels when official Washing-ton would be in the habit of paying them a visit at almost any hour. To meet this increase of business occasioned by the influx of people, Gettysburg herself would have to grow and increase the number of and enlarge all her business places in whatever line they might be. Naturally all property in Gettysburg would increase in value as would also all the property along the "road" from Washington to Gettysburg. To compete with the travelling facilities which would be af-forded by the proposed "road," the facilities of the present rail-roads would have to be bettered and new roads would be built— both electric and steam. All eyes would naturally be turned towards Gettysburg, which THE MERCURY. 23 with its historic surroundings, beautiful scenery, and medicinal springs, would naturally be expected to become the greatest sum-mer resort in the United States. The character and number of tourists would necessitate gov-ernment control of all guides. Thereby would undoubtedly be obliterated the blot of blots found upon the world. With gov-ernment control of all guides the tourists would be guaranteed just and equal treatment. For the guides themselves, better days would result. To Gettysburg's educational institutions would come greater publicity and a better appreciation of these institutions' rare sur-roundings. The result would naturally be manifested by an in-crease in the student bodies and an enlargement of the institu-tions themselves. All this resulting from the proposed "Lincoln Way?" Yes, more. With it connected to Gov. Stuart's proposed highway from Philadelphia to Pittsburg, "The Lincoln Way" naturally would become the backbone of a national highway system extend-ing all over the country. Then would all roads lead to Gettys-burg, which would be, in fact, the shrine of American patriotism, the Mecca for all Americans. THE "INDIAN STEPS." E. C. STOUFFER, '11. HE immense dam of McCalPs Ferry Power Company is nearing completion. As a result the slowly rising waters of the Susquehanna river are gradually cover-ing up one of the oldest and most noted landmarks of south-eastern Pennsylvania. The old "Indian Steps" are artificial shelves, cut no doubt, by means of stone hatchets into the face of a large round-pointed rock, which juts out from the west bank of the Susquehanna river. They were cut by the North American Indians possibly centuries before the discovery of America. These steps were used by the dusky inhabitants as a place on which to stand and dip the shad as they crossed the rapids on their annual journey 24 THE MERCURY. to the spawning grounds in the upper Susquehanna. Since the settlement of the country the white man has for generations used them for the same purpose. So far-famed were these steps that the Indians from the North, South, East and West came here to fish. Only the strong, vigorous and daring could fish from this rock for only such were able to endure the chill damp night winds which frequent the lower Susquehanna. As each contestant ap-peared a chalk mark or number was placed on his hat to desig-nate his turn. When his name was called he took his place, tied himself to a ring in the rock and cast the net. Each one was ■compelled to take his catch and be content. If there were a goodly number of shad, all was well; but if it proved to be a small catch he had to go away heavy hearted and take his place in the waiting line again. Year after year from these rocks hundreds of these daintiest ■of all fishes have been caught, some to grace the humble board of ■a poor riverman, some to please the fastidious taste of a city epicurean. The land around the "Indian Steps" was originally occupied by the Conestoga Indians and was preserved for them by the first proprietors of the state. Even Maryland, which was attempting to push her lines farther and farther north, respected the rights of the natives and made no attempt to appropriate this section. 'The land was held for the Indians until August 26, 1786, when a deed was granted to Joseph Eeed on condition that the "Indian Steps" should be preserved for a fishing place for the poor of the community. This charge has been faithfully kept until now. A few months more and the old landmark will have passed away and forever this curious specimen of Indian art will be lost to Pennsylvania. THE MERCURY. 25 THE INVESTIGATION OF THE FARMER; WHAT IT IS LIKELY TO BE WORTH. MISS HELEN H. BRENNEMAN, '08. EVEEAL months ago when President Roosevelt ap-pointed a committee to investigate the condition of the farmers throughout the country, it provoked quite a little amusement on the part of some people, while on the part of others it aroused sarcasm and anger. Many people regarded the President as a "busy-body" and failed to recognize the real aim in his interest in the farmers' condition. Never before has there been a man at the head of the nation with such broad and liberal views and one who has put forth such strenuous efforts in behalf of all kinds and classes of peo-ple. And it was such a motive that prompted him to take this action. The scope of this committee's work is not to ascertain the technical methods of farming and to inquire into personal matters, but to find out what are the general sanitary, social, educational and economic conditions of country life, to find out what is needed, what improvements can be effected, and in what way the government can help them. The commission was confronted with a task not only wide in its scope but comprising a large territory, and many people were to be dealt with. The President suggested that the farmers be called together in convenient meeting places for discussions, and that the members of the commission try to get in the closest touch possible with them and find out their needs. The commission has sent out circulars to professional men, business men, farmers and many others. These circulars con-tain a list of twelve questions with respect to the public schools in the vicinity and their efficiency; whether the farmers get rea-sonable returns from the sale of their products; whether they have good railroads, highway, telephone and rural postal service-accommodations ; whether there is a sufficient supply of labor in the neighborhood. These questions show what the commission are seeking to find out. It is their desire not only to ascertain the conditions but to get opinions and suggestions as to what needs to be done. Now the question arises, "What is the investigation likely to 26 THE MERCURY. be worth ?" In the first place it is very evident that almost the entire success depends upon the attitude of the people. If they continue to take it as a joke or with a feeling of animosity, cer-tainly the progress of the commisison's work is going to be checked and its ultimate success doubtful. However Dr. Bailey of Cornell University, the chairman of the commission, says that the public interest is increasing as the people come to under-stand the commission and its work. These words are encourag-ing and indicative of a very likely success. If this investigation is going to amount to anything, there must be co-operation of the people, especially of the farmers for whose benefit these efforts are being exerted. In a recent mes-sage to the commission the President said, "It is esssential that the farmers, the men who live on the soil should feel a sense of the ownership in this commisison, should feel that you gentle-men in very truth represent them and are responsive to their de-sires, no less than to their needs." If this committee receives the support of the people, it should effect some good results. There is a larger percentage of per-sons engaged in agricultural pursuits than in any other occupa-tion and it is only just that more attention should be given to their needs. The demands for better highways, better railway and trolley service are being universally agitated, and surely the commis-sion will concentrate, its efforts towards their accomplishment thus increasing the facilities of the farmer for better profits. At the Farmers' Convention held in Madison last October scientific crop raising and the need of teaching agriculture in the schools were among the principal topics approved by that orga-nization. It is just as essential that agriculture be taught in the rural schools as manual training and trades in the city schools. Here again if such a desire could be met by the gov-ernment it would not only benefit the farmers economically but the nation also. It remains to be seen just what this investigation will amount to, but nevertheless we can surmise that the educational advant-ages in some districts will be improved, that there will be bet-ter facilities for the transaction of business and that the social, educational and economic conditions will be bettered. T H E HERCURV Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class Matter. VOL. XVI GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER, 1908 No. 7 Editor-in-Chief Assistant Editor P. F. BLOOMHARDT, '09 CHARLES F. V. HESSE, '09 Exchange Editor Associate Editors H. REY WOLF, '09 SAMUEL FAUSOLD, '10 Business Manager EDWARD N. FRYE, '10 CHABLES L. KOPP, '09 Advisory Board Ass't Bus. Managers PROF. C. F. SANDERS, A. M. G. U. KNIPPLE, '10 PROF. P. M. BIKLE, PH.D. PAUL S. MILLER, '10 PROF. C. J. GRIMM, PH. D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance ; single copies 15 cents. Notice to discontinue sending THE MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contri-bute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. such is often the case. EDITORIALS. THE question has often been asked how a small college, with a limited number of students and a corresponding limitation of tal-ent can successfully conduct nearly as many student enter-prises as the larger univeristies— and conduct them, too, in such a way that they frequently rival similar organizations in their larger sister institutions. But Our own college may be taken as suffici- "28 THE MERCURY. ent proof. Our five varieties of athletic teams, our three publi-cations, two literary societies, debating and oratorical teams, musical clubs, and dramatic society, etc., have often been re-spected rivals to similar teams of other and larger schools. But the mere fact of the numbers of these enterprises does not neces-sarily have to affect the quality of the results accomplished. We are inclined to think that men with just as great ability and as large capacity for work are to be found in the smaller college as in the larger ones,—not as many, to be sure, but the ratio is about the same. Furthermore, the smaller college offers oppor-tunities to every one of such calibre, while in the larger schools, •only a comparatively few can take part. LAST year Gettysburg was disappointed in not being enter-tained by her dramatic society, the Mask and Wig. Presumably this was due to the lack of time for rehearsals. Nevertheless the loss was felt. This year it has been decided that no musical club trip will be taken. It has been suggested that the time, talent, and energ}', usually devoted to this organization be turned into another channel; that is, into the perfecting of a good play or minstrel show which might be allowed to take a trip, similar to the Triangle Club of Princeton. IN a few days the first term of the present collegiate year will be closed. After an arduous week's work in examinations, the Christmas vacation will be the more appreciated and enjoyed. Its rest and pleasure has been anticipated by all, but especially has it been longed for by the Freshmen. Christmas has been written about so often, and from so many different viewpoints, that little that is new is left to say. To the college student it is a joyous season to be looked forward to, but in its actual enjoy-ment, he no longer thinks of college and its surroundings for it is a vacation season at home. So, with its last issue for 1908, the MERCURY wishes all its readers a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. THE MERCURY-. 29 BOOK REVIEWS. INDER the Crust, by Thomas Nelson Page, Phrena. This volume is composed of original stories. Each story has a philosophical side. They were evidently written to stimulate thought and the author has succeeded admirably. One of the stories, "A Brother of Diagones" is especially commenda-ble. In this story, great wealth is pointed out as a stumbling block rather than an aid to happiness. The simple life, too, is contrasted to the hustle and bustle of the metropolis. Other stories of the volume effectively contrast altruism and egoism. The Biography of Thomas Jefferson, by John T. Morse, Phrena. This biography is very impartially written. The au-thor gives us the facts indulging in neither unmerited praise nor criticism. He seems to have an insight into the man's very nature and thus vividly portrays the actions of the statesman both at home and in the blaze of public life. The biography not only enumerates the achievements of Mr. Jefferson with their causes and effects but also those of contemporary statesmen. The biographer shows Mr. Jefferson as a visionary, shrewd politician and a far-sighted statesman. The book is very readable and valuable. Tides of Bamegat, by P. Hopkinson Smith, [Philo 11:6.] This is a book which one can scarcely afford not to read. It presents a very impressive picture of life. It is an account of how one member of a noble and respectable family brought shame and disgrace to the family name There is seen the secret sufferings of the sister through false modesty. Her life would have been made happy indeed, if she had only opened her heart to her lover. It shows how one sister may give advantages and culture to another and instead of receiving gratitude, have her head bowed in shame while the other, seemingly soulless, is not af-fected. There is also brought out the yearning and love of a father for his son whom he has driven from home in a fit of anger for the evil he has done when he refuses to do right. The story is somewhat overdrawn, but otherwise one can find no fault. It is nevertheless very instructive. Although somewhat tedious at times it is generally interesting. The language is clear and wholesome. The Brass Bowl, by Louis Joseph Vance, [Philo, 11:8.] The so THE MEECURY. title of the book is somewhat fanciful as the bowl has practically the least connection with the story. Anyone wishing to read a book for entertainment and recreation will find this romance suited to his purpose as it is very interesting, simple and full of action. The thread of the story seldom breaks and the climax is near the end. The reader will be pleased with the happy ter-mination. No characters are used except those which are neces-sary to the plot. The principal parts are played by persons of high social rank, and they seem to be somewhat magnified. There is no place in the book that is tedious. The narration is clear, animated and well balanced. The language is simple and vigorous. The author has handled 'the plot very well. He shows broadmindedness, independence, the possession of a vivid imagination and a pleasant sense of humor. He has an ac-quaintance with high social life. The reader will be very much pleased with "Mad Maitland's" spirit as he makes his wild flights and also with Miss Sylvia Graeme who comes into Mait-land's life in a very peculiar way. EXCHANGES. JE are glad to have with us again most of our old ex-changes. There are a few that have not arrived yet. We trust that all will soon respond. It seems necessary again to call attention to the con-tent of the MERCURY. The MERCURY, we are trying to make a literary journal, and not a paper combining literary, athletic and the other departments of college activities. The "Gettysbur-gian," our weekly publication, contains the news of the various departments of college life. Among the good things in the "College Student" we would call attention to "Lowell's 'Biglow Papers'" and "Eelation of Diction to Character." The former is a critical essay which brings to notice many interesting facts concerning this import-ant contribution to American literature. The latter shows how the ideals and characteristics of the individual are reflected in hie writings. THE MERCURY. 31 We are glad to welcome "The Thielensian" to our exchanges. In the article entitled "Greek and Eoman Influences" the writer reminds us of some of the beauties of Athens and Borne. The beginning of philosophy was in Greece. Then from the Eomans we can learn the lesson of patriotism. Their motto was, "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori." The Eomans understood mili-tary matters, and we can also learn much from their sculpture and architecture. "Luther in the Eeformation" is also worthy of perusal. The character sketches of Taft and Bryan in the "Otterbein Aegis" are brief but very interesting. We all admire the teachings and doctrines of Socrates, the great Greek philosopher. He busied himself by trying to teach men the truth, and even though he greatly emphasized truth, he was especially eager that men should become happy and useful citizens. To be a good citizen he regarded the "summum bonum" of the individual's life. Indeed in our present age of political corruption, we can not over-emphasize high ideals of citizenship. "Making an American Citizen" in the'Thiloma-thean Monthly" presents this subject in a forceful manner. The writer gives some qualifications of the ideal American citizen. First, he must exercise the right of franchise. It is not only his right, but his duty, to vote. Secondly, he must vote intelligently and not allow himself to be bribed by a paltry farthing. Again, he must be a doer, and not depend upon party leaders. And lastly he must have strong moral convictions. As to the prob-lem of attaining this ideal, the author says, "If I were to offer a solution of this vital problem, it would be: the continual, untir-ing moral and civic training in home and school." All scholars have more or less knowledge of epic poetry. They all know something of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, Virgil's Aeneid and Milton's Paradise Lost, but often the epics of less renown are neglected. "The Sketch Book" contains an article entitled "Sita," which tells us of India's epics. The Eamayana and the Mahabharata are India's chief epics. "Sita" is the im-portant character in the Eamayana. She is to the Eamayana what Helen of Troy is to Homer's Ilaid. The article gives a brief summary of the epic and closes with a few ethical com-ments on the character of "Sita." 32 THE MEKCUKT. We wish to comment on two articles in the "Albright Bulle-tin." "The Character of Satan in 'Paradise Lost,'" and "Work; Man's Opportunity." The writer regards Satan as the princi-pal character of the epic, and speaks of him from that stand-point. In the latter essay, we have a very practical exposition on work and its blessings to the individual. Lovers of German literature will find pleasure in reading "Two Representatives of German Epic and Lyric Poetry" in the "Lesbian Herald." Of our High School exchanges, the "Eed and Black" (Read-ing High School) deserves special mention. The departments are well represented and as a whole the paper makes a pleasing appearance. We gratefully acknowledge the usual exchanges. "PXYK iKT2« r>rv. M3VSUT13ER5. There's no pen that gives such all-round satisfaction i Conklin's Self-Filling Fountain Pen. It's the best pen for College Men. When an ordinary fountain pen runs dry in the middle of a word, it means you've got to stop right there, hunt up a rubber squirt gun, fill your pen to overflowing, clean both pen and dropper, wash your hands, and then endeavor as best you can to collect your lost Crescent f'f train of thought. It's different with Filler Jr-l 9 FILLING "THE PEN WITH THE CRESCENT-FILLER" To fill, iust dip it in any ink, press the Crescent-Filler, and the Conklin is filled and ready to write instantly. You can't over-fill it. Hence no inky fingers, no loss of time, no ruffled temper. The feed of the Conklin is No waiting for ink to come—no jerking—no slips, blots. ng dealers handle the Conklin. IE yours does not, order direct. Look tor the Crescent-Filler and refuse substitutes. Prices, $3.00 and up. Send at once (or handsome new catalog. T3E OOHZLIH PEH CO., 31 Itiahattsn Bnildiag, Toledo, Ohio. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. FUfOTTUfjE Mattresses, Bed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames; Repair Work done promptly. Under-taking a specialty. - Telephone No. 97. 3=3L ZB_ 23eri-d.ex, 37 Baltimore Si., *-tttt/xhurg;, FA EDGAR C. TAWNEY BAKER West Middle Street. J. B. WINEMAN, DEALER IN CHOICE FAMILY GROCERIES, PROVISIONS AND FRUITS, BOARDING CLUBS A SPECIALTY. SUNDAY SCHOOL LESSON HELPS AND SUPPLIES, P. ANSTADT & SONS, Publishers, Book and Job Printing of all Kinds ttrtte for Prices. YORK, PA. ■> PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. EMIL ZOTHE ^MEMS ENGRAVER, DESIGNER, AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER 722 Chestnut St., Phila. SPECIALTIES : MASONIC MARKS, SOCIETY BADGES, COLLEGE BUTTONS, PINS, SCARP PINS, STICK PINS AND ATHLETIC PRIZES. All Goods ordered through G. F. Kieffer, CHARLES S. MUMPER, MtKALER MJV TTTTTS "KFTTTTT? 15! PICTURE FRAMES OF ALL SORTS * W *■*" * * *» *fc*Hf REpA|R WORK DONE PROMPTLY I WILL ALSO BUY OR EXCHANGE ANY SECOND-HAND FURNITURE NO. 4 CHAMBERSBURG STREET, GETTYSBURG, PA D. J. SWARTZ DEALER IN COUNTRY PRODUCE, GROCERIES, CIGARS AND TOBACCO. GETTYSBURG. SHOES KEPA1UHI> —BY— 115 Baltimore St., near Court House. GOOD WORK GUARANTEED. -IS-Your Photographer ? If not, why not? 41 BALTIMORE ST., GETTYSBURG, PA. 8EFT0N I FLEMMING'S LIVERY, Baltimore Street, First Square, Gettysburg, -Pa. Competent Guides for all parts of the Battlefield. Arm »» Filbert St. A convenient and homelike place to stay while in the city shopping. An excellent restaurant where good service combines with low prices. ROOMS §1.00 PER DAY AND UP. The only moderate priced hotel of reputation and eonsequenee in > 3Pla.ila.cLe2pla.ISL • » J 1 i SQ *. • • » ,atindry . . OF YORK . . Offers tfte COLLEGE STUDENTS first-dass work; at Special Low Prices. E. C. STOUFEER, Local Agt. C. D. SMITH, Prop. MEANS TASTY WOEK SAEEFULLY DONE. MfcNU CARDS. LETTER HEADS, WINDOW POSTERS ENVELOPES, DANCE CARDS TICKETS, Programs of all kinds. Everything the College Man wants in Paper and Ink. Specially designed work. Latest Effects in Paper, clone in Colors along lines of College Men's Associations. Catalog and Book work. The Gettysburg Compiler will keep old and new students in touch with town and college life. HELP THOSE WHO HELP US. The Intercollegiate Bureau of Academic Costume. Cotrell & Leonard, ALBANY, N. Y. ™2li2^! CAPS AND GOWNS To Utttyi-buri? College Lafayette. Lehigh. Dickinson. State College, Univ of Penn sylviinin, Hnrviird, Yale. Princeton. Wellesley, Bryn Mnwrnnd the others. Class Contracts a Specialty. Correct Hoods i. Degrees. Mr. College Man We are already lining up our clients for nextSpring. With our National Organization of 12 offices we will need over 2000 college men for technical, office, sales aud teaching positions throughout the United States. We can also use at any time college men who are in the market for a position. Let us explain to you NOW. Write for the "College Man's Opportunity." It tells how Hapgoods, a great organization built up by college men has placed many thousand youngmen, has raised the standard of college meu as a business factor throughout the world. State age, education, location desired. THE JV\iTIOJVJIZ, OBGjrjVTZJlTjrOJV OF BIlJlIJV BHOHKBS. Commonwealth Trust Building, Philadelphia, Pa. HOTEL GETTYSBURG, Headquarters for BANQUETS. Electric Lights, Steam Heat, All Conveniences. Free Bus to and from station. Convenient for Commencement Visitors. RATES $2.00 PER DAY. -livery CLi'ta.c'ked. Jot]i] P. JV^tH Proprietor. BECKER & CO., DEALERS IN All kinds of Fresh and Smoked Meats Chambersburg St., Gettysburg, Pa. WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. Established 1867 by Allen Walton. ALLEN K. WALTON, Pres. and Treas. ROBT. J. WALTON, Supt. flummelstown Brown Stone Company, QUARRYMEN and Manufacturers of BUILDING STONE, SAWED FLAGGING and TILE. Wa/l/fcoTwille, ]£)a.-u,pT-vlr\, ^o. Pa. CONTRACTORS FOR ALL KINDS OF CUT STONE WORK. Telegrapn and Express Address, Brownstone, Pa. Parties visit-ing quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R-R. R. For Artistic Photographs Go To T{PTON The Leader in PHOTO FASHIONS Frames and Passapartouts Made to Order. PATRONISE OUR ADY$RTI$$RS Come and Have a Good Shave or Hair Cut -AT-Harry B. Sefton's BARBER SHOP. 35 Baltimore St. Barber's Supplies a Specialty. Also choice line of Cigars. SHOES REPAIRED —BY— Charles Hartdagen, Middle St., Opp. Court House, GUARANTEE ALL WORK. GETTYSBURG DEPARTMENT STORE, Successors to the L. M. Alleman Hardware Co., Manufacturer's Agent and Jobber of HARDWARE, OILS, PAINTS AND QUEENSWARE, GETTYSBURG, PA. Tb.p only Jobbing House in Adams County. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. s * * » ** *»« * ft * «« « «»* ** « « * »* « * * « **«* ***« aa »« « ***** a »*« »* * *** Seligrqciq Are Gettysburg's Most Reliable TAILORS «* And show their appreciation of your patronage by giving- you full value for your money, and closest attention to the wants of every customer. ■ T' ■,f T &.WirX'z?&/&teM$&^.'^*fc?ttvte*&^ Students' Headquarters —FOR— HATS, SHOES, AVD GENT'S FURNISHING. Sole Agent for WALK-OVER SHOE EGBERT'S STORE. Prices Always Right T|e Lutheran PubliGOlioii Society No 1424 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Colleges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY 8. BONER, Supt

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WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. The Pleased Customer is not a stranger in our estab-lishment— he's right at home, you'll see him when you call. We have the materials to please fastidious men. J. D. LIPPY, lXEercr!h.B.jn.t Tailor, 29 Chambersburg Street, GETTYSBURG, PA. CITY HOTEL, Main Street, - Gettysburg, Pa. Free Bus to an from all trains. Thirty seconds' walk from either depot. Dinner with drive over field with four or more, $1.35. Rates, $1.50 to $2.00 per Day. John E. Hughes, Prop. L. M. ALLEMAN, Manufacturers' Agent and Jobber of Hardware, Oils, Paints and Queensware, CETTYSBURC, PA. The only Jobbing House in Adams County. EMS. l BARBEHEHN. THE EACLE HOTEL Corner Main and Washington Sts. Cream of Roses For Chapped Hands, Face, Lips, and Rough Skin. Removes Tan and Sunburn. Gentlemen should use it after shaving. It cures razor pimples. Price, 25 cents. For sale at CODORI'S DRUG STORE. (J. B. ^tzmiller, Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and Douglas Shoes, GETTYSBURG, PA. WEIKERT & CHOUSE, Butchers, Everything in this line we handle. GIVE US A TRIAL. Baltimore Street, - Gettysburg. eOME AND SEE one of the larg-est, best lighted and equipped Modern PMograpbic Studios in Pennsylvania, which will be oc-cupied about April 1st. Nos. 20 and 22 Chambersburg St. On opposite side of street from old stand. y.hfi'1-h WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. Harvard University. Lawrence Scientific School. The Lawrence Scientific School, which is under the same Faculty as Harvard College and the Graduate School, offers professional courses leading to the degree of S. B. in Civil, Mechanical and Electrical Engineering ; Mining and Metal-lurgy ; Architecture ; Landscape Architecture; Chemistry; Geology; Biology ; Anatomy ; Physiology and Hygiene (as preparation for medical schools); Science for Teachers ; and a course in General Science. Graduates of colleges ma}' be admitted to advanced standing without examination. For infor-mation concerning courses of study, expenses and plans of admissian, address J. L. LOVE, Secretary, 16 University Hall, Cambridge, Mass. N. S. SHALER. Dean. R. A. WONDERS Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, etc. Scott's Corner, opp. Eagle Hotel GETTYSBURG, PA. Pool Parlors in Connection. CENTRAL HOTEL fl. E. LONG- Prop. MODERN IMPROVEMENTS. Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, Pa. Two doors from Court House. Steam Heat, Electric light and Call Bells al through the House. Closets and Bath Room on every floor. Sefton & h lemming's Livery is connected with this Hotel Good Teams and Competent Guides for the Battlefield. Charges moderate. Satisfaction guaranteed. RATES, $1.50 PER DAY. £ Printing and Binding 4* THE MT. HOLLY STATIONERY AND PRINTING CO. does all classes of Printing and Binding, and can furnish you any Book, Bill Head, Letter Head, Envelope, Card, Blank, or any-thing pertaining to their business in just as good style and at less cost than you can obtain same else-where. They are located among the mountains but their work is metropolitan. You can be convinced of this if you give them the opportunity. Mt. Holly Stationery and Printing Co., Mt. Holly Springs, Pa. FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. J. A. TAWNEY Is ready to furnish Clubs and Boarding Houses with . Bread, Rolls, Etc., At short notice and reason-able rates. ■Washington & Middle Sts. Gettysburg. W. F. CODORI ^ Dealer in Beef, Poi k, Lamb, Veal and Sausage. Special rates to clubs. York St., GETTYSBURG, PA. Stetson and Douglas SHOES For a full line of samples of all the latest Styles In Stetson and Douglas Shoes call to see C. B. COOK Room 24 East All goods delivered within three days How to Attract and Hold an Audience "PVERY teacher, every clergyman, every ■L' lawyer, every man or woman or youth who is likely ever to have occasion in commit-tee, or in public, to enlist the interest of one c:r more hearers, and convince them every pc r-son who ever has to, or is likely to have to 41 speak " to one or more listeners will find i :i our new book a clear, concise, complete hand-book which will enable him to succeed I PRICE—$1.00 Postpaid—CLOTH HINDS & NOBLE, Publishers 4-5-6-12-13=14 Cooper Institute, N. Y. City Schoolbooks of allpublishers at one store 50 YEARS' ERIENCE TRADE MARKS DESIGNS COPYRIGHTS &C. Anvone sending a sketrh mid description may quickly ascertain our opinion free whether an invention is probably patentable. Communica-tions strictly confidential. Handbook on Patents sent free. Oldest agency for securing patents. Patents taken through Muim & Co. receive special notice* without charge, in the Scientific American. A handsomely illustrated weeklv. T,nrgest dilation of any scientific .-Journal. Terms. . year; four months, $L Sold by all newsdealers. MUNN & Co.361Broadwa^ New York Branch Office. 626 F St., Washington, D. C. Lnrpost cjr- GO TO. HARRY B. SEFTON'S §arber (Shop For a good shave or hair cut. Barbers' supplies a specialty. Razor Strops, Soaps, Brushes, Creams, Combs, Mugs and Coke Dandruff cure. No. 38 Baltimore St. GETTYSBURG. You will find a full line of Pure Drugs and Fine Stationery at the People's Drug Store Prescriptions a specialty. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. Low Prices J. E. W1BLE PRINTING HOUSE 42 Carlisle St., Gettysburg, Pa. BARBEHENN M LITTLE, LTD. AMOS ECKERT Latest Styles in HATS, SHOES AND GENT'S FURNISHING .Our specialty. WALK-OVER SHOE AMOS ECKERT Prices always right The Lutheran publi^ing jfouge. No. 1424 Arch Street PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Col-leges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and devel-op one of the church institutions with pecuniary advantage to yourself. Address H. S. BONER, Supt., . THE GETTYSBURG JJEEGURY The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College VOL. XL GETTYSBURG, PA., JUNE, 1902 No. 4 CONTENTS GENERAL READING : ITS USE AND ABUSE . . . no EDWARD C. RUBY, '02. THE INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON THE ROMAN LAW 114 WILLIAM M. ROBENOLT, '02. THE SUB-CONSCIOUS SELF 119 FRED. A. HIGHTMAN, '02. A ROMANCE OF THE REBELLION . . . . ' . 126 STANLEY G. FOWLER, '04. . NATURE IN EMERSON'S POETRY 132 . J. F. NEWMAN, '02. EDITORIALS 138 Adieu, 1902—The Spectrum—The End of Work. EXCHANGES . . 140 BOOK REVIEW . 142 I IO THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. GENERAL READING: ITS ABUSE VS. ITS PROPER USE. EDWARD C. RUBY. (First Prize Gies Contest.) . 1 ^kjEVER in the history of the' world were good books so ■* ^ plentiful and so cheap as they are at the present time. If in the time of Solomon, when the printing press was not yet in - • existence, there was reason for saying that of the making of books there is no end, what would he say concerning the vast amount of reading matter produced to-day ? Every year there are about twenty-five thousand books published Every town of any considerable size issues one or more newspapers. Maga-zines can be counted by the hundreds. It is utterly impossible to read all that is offered to us. Even the wise saying, "Read everything of something and something of everything," must be followed within the limitations of reason. Every course of reading which our friends may prescribe for us is somewhat like an encyclopedia; it usually takes in every-thing. Now, any person who thinks that he can take in every-thing in the scope of his general reading will be likely to be "taken in" himself. The mass of accumulated knowledge as it now exists is so great that it is scarcely possible for the well educated to get even a cursory view of it. To know something of everything is, day by day, becoming a more difficult task; but to know almost everything about something is more nearly within everybody's reach. There are individuals who are so imprudent, not to say reck-less, in their reading as to peruse all the new books that time allows them to examine. Let us for a moment follow the career of one of these persons. He buys a morning paper. He is not looking for the price of stocks, nor at the religious column, nor at the proceedings of his country's Congress, nor on the editorial page. No, he sees none of these till he has read the publisher's notices. He knows, by reputation, all the publishers in the land. With some of them he is personally acquainted, as well as with a few authors. He knows the history of the THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. I I 1 most important journals as well as of the magazines that have arisen in his day To say that he is insane enough to buy all the new publications, would be injustice; but not, therefore, does he fail to read them. Fortunately for his taste, he has the friendship of a neighboring editor, whose desk is always bur-dened with the latest productions. In this sanctum our busy reader spends his happiest hours. Ask his judgment upon a late romance, and he can tell you to which one of the author's previous works it bears the closest resemblance, its marks of improvement or retrogression in our literature, and in what respect it is most worthy of attention. But notice that he never says of any new book that it is perfectly useless, for that would be a confession of lost time and labor. In conversation, he makes frequent use of foreign phrases and is always rambling and superficial. He values his author friends highest, but they are not the most attentive to his caprice and convenience. Only once has he played the author, having collected some of his critical notices into a volume which received from the public the contempt of silence. He is now growing infirm, less by age than excitement. His life draws to a close; and with the last new romance in his attenuated hands, he grows bewildered, then sinks into the sleep of death. There he lies, the victim of a strange intoxication. Faithful friends convey him to his last resting place. Deep on the slab that covers him let these words ' be traced—"Gifted with a noble mind, it was ill-directed by des-ultory and shallow reading. His death was induced by the vain attempt to keep pace with the current literature. Traveler, let this life be a warning to you." This man was a professional reader of new books. I do not mean to say, however, that there are so many liter-ary cormorants to the extent that this man was; but the name is legion of those persons of every class, age, profession and trade, who make the same effort to know something of every product of the press. They sew and knit; they work in the factory; they plow the fields; they measure the muslin; they plead in the Courts; they sit in the legislative chamber; they are too often found in the pulpit. Single out these persons of I 12 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. your acquaintance and look at them. By no means are they the most profitable company. You will learn less during a day in their society than in the half hour of twilight spent with the next door shoemaker who sits upon his step and moralizes upon man and his duty to God. Reading should never be aimless or superficial; but always with some good purpose in view. Much of a professional man's reading is, of necessity, along the lines prescribed by his pro-fession; but even he, to be eminently successful in life, must give some time to what we call desultory reading. He should engage in this kind of reading, however, with no other purpose in view than to amuse himself. The mind can not be "keyed up" to the highest pitch all the time. It needs rest and relax-ation. An amusing anecdote or story is as necessary as sleep, and may be far more salutary than a dose of medicine. Still the chief motive in reading should not be amusement or recrea-tion. Nor should it, indeed, be merely the acquirement of knowledge. It is very desirable that a man should be well informed and able to give an intelligent opinion on matters of vital importance to himself and others. Yet he should be something more than a walking encyclopedia. The chief purpose of reading should be the development of a pure and noble character. It should touch all the springs of life and take hold of every fibre of our being. Character is one of the greatest things in the world, and good reading is as essential to its growth as sunlight is to the development of plants. Culture is not to be despised, and refinement of taste is not to be depreciated, but both must be attended by the awakening of man's nobler aspirations and broader sympathies, in order to justify the time given to reading. Our reading should make us dissatisfied with our present knowledge and attainments, and beget within us a worthy ambition to be and do our very best. As soon as the taste for reading is formed, that taste begins to improve, and its improvement should be sedulously culti-vated. Every man who has read a great deal will tell you that he has left far behind him the books which he admired when THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. .• I I 3 he began. What he admired at twenty is far inferior to what he admired at thirty or forty. He is constantly going up a literature ladder. It is the act of climbing which is beneficial, not the elevation attained. • A book should never be read be-cause it is bold, curious, or new; for then it may leave no ini provement in the mind. In all our reading we need such works as will educate our entire being—not merely let in the light, but draw out native gold. We want to learn lessons in our reading, trace God's hand in history, read his glory on the scroll of science. By so doing we shall become richer by our books, have a healthier religious life, and secure an increase of intellectual strength. "THE WORLD'S NEED." THE world don't need your theory, However grand or great; It needs no long diversions On "irony of fate." The world needs men who do things With zest and power and might, Who place no price on virtue, "In the contest for the right. The world needs cheerful-hearted men— That optimistic class Who meet the world's repining By bringing things to pass. The world needs men of talent, And preparation, too, Who in the fiercest conflict Can plan, and then can do. The world has many thousand needs; But foremost of the van, And chiefest of the. thousands Is, a good, industrious man. —A. E. BURCH, in Wm. Jewell Student, 114 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. THE INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON THE ROMAN LAW. WlUIAM M. KOBBNOLT, '02. (Second Prize Cies Contest.) ^T^7"HATEVER be the religion of any nation it has a ^ " greater or less influence upon the habits, customs and rules by which its citizens are governed. The laws and re-ligion of a country are inseparably connected. That connec-tion may be indirect and have a slow, practically unnoticeable tendency towards identifying their principles and precepts, or it may at once be extremely binding, the one upon the other —either the law subordinate to the church or the church to the state, as is found in some tribes and nations of antiquity. The progress of Christianity encountered a great many ob-stacles, but, by slow persistent endeavor, wielded ah influence which has had an ameliorating tendency wherever it has been proclaimed. At its inception the Romans were rulers of the then known world, and, of course, it could not spread without pervading their territory. Its progress in Rome was slow, gaining a few converts here and there, but from the time of Paul's imprisonment in their city and his epistle to their people, it was gradually gaining more of a foothold. Amid the varied interests of the universal 'empire, with its ever changing masters and the pomp and state of the imperial palace, the business conducted with all parts of the world, and the public games with their demoralizing tendencies, Christian-ity was ever drawing some from the different ranks, even from among the slaves, and lifting them from an abyss of ignorance and superstition to a dignified plane of humane sympathies, pointing the soul to a sense of immortality. Not until the conversion of Constantine to the Christian faith, however, did it have any effect on the Roman juris-prudence. By his liberality to and sympathy with its teachings it gained converts from among the magistrates who brought their new views to bear upon the legislative enactments of the time. By creating a community of interests and sympathies THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 115 among all classes, there resulted a tendency to make uniform all the rights and privileges of these classes. It at last brought about a complete moral, social, and, in a certain sense, political revolution. Its new converts gradually working into the legis-lative bodies instituted a new order of things. Perhaps the great gateway or channel through which Chris-tianity has conducted its precepts, to be exerted on the sea of humanity at large, was the Roman law. To use this law as a factor in spreading its teachings, the influence upon it, to say the least, must have been far reaching. Its connection with the Roman law can be described best by considering its effects in three directions, viz.: upon persons, property, and crime. In order to understand its effects upon these different subjects we must have a knowledge of their status before the introduction of Christianity. In the ordinary meaning, the word "person" signified any human being irrespective of his condition. There was such a distinction made in the legal capacity of different persons, how-ever, that a legal person was one vested with a civil capacity, and in Rome many persons were deprived of this capacity to a certain degree, so that all persons were not equal in this respect. They were divided into three classes as regards civil position: libettas, whether a freeman or a slave; civitas, whether a citizen or a foreigner; and familia, whether independent of parental authority or dependent upon it. Although the later Romans did not agree with the early Greek philosophers in saying that slavery was consistent with nature, yet they accepted it as a custom handed down from their ancestors. They divided persons into three classes as re-gards freedom servi, or slaves; libertini, or freedmen; and in-genui, or freeborn persons. The servus, or slave, was not con-sidered as a person in the law. He could not contract civil marriage; he could not hold property; he could not form a legal contract; nor did he possess any legal rights as against his master. The libertini were divided into three classes ac-cording to the extent of their freedom. There was no uniform-ity in the rights and privileges secured to them. u6 THE GETTYSBUR6 MERCURY. Now with the advent of Christianity and its gradual but marked progress until the time of Justinian we see practically a new order of affairs. The word libcttas was becoming ob-solete, at least in its practical application. The common re-lations between master and slave, which had been inaugurated by the humane spirit of Christianity, tended to equalize and identify the rights of these two classes. The old idea that they were by nature slaves was fading away, and their inborn rights were now respected. Manumission was encouraged and the slave was protected from those cruelties to which, in former times, he was as much subject as an irrational creature. To unjustly treat a slave would incriminate the master as much as though he were dealing with a person of his own rank. To indulge in practices characteristics of former times would make the master culpable, and he could not escape with impunity. Manumission was not only encouraged but more simple methods were introduced, and when once free, the barriers which had made a distinction as to the extent of their freedom were removed. The libertini now shared equal rights, so that when once free all legal restraints were removed. As Justinian declared, "full citizenship was involved in the gift of liberty." The civil condition of the libertini was now made uniform. As regards the ingenui little effect was brought to bear upon them except that their attitude towards all classes and conditions of mankind was mollified and their views were liberalized. The civitas was more easily extended to foreigners. There was a tendency to bring all classes to a greater degree of uni-formity in all respects. Having seen the effects upon the legal status of the different classes, our attention is naturally turned to the domestic rela-tions. How far the paternal authority extended over the son first commands attention. This authority was designated by the term patria potestas and "involved the power of life and death on the part of the father." It seems hardly credible to us that the father could be so cruel as to kill his child, expose it or sell it into slavery, and it seems the more incredible that the law ot the land should allow it and even sanction it. Not until THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. u; Christianity introduced its elevating principles into the rules of jurisprudence was there any final action taken by magistrates to mitigate the severity on the part of the father. By inculcating a more humane idea as to the relation between parent and child such laws were enacted as protected and gave privileges to the child very similar to those of to-day. The parent was finally brought to substitute affection for atrocity. Together with this reforming tendency in the patria potestas came better legislation concerning the status of women. Her rights with respect to her children, her property and her varied interests were made nearly equal to those of men, and were equally worthy of recognition and protection by the law. Christianity had a great effect on the law regulating all the family relations, for it worked on the family as a unit of society in extending its influence. When its precepts were once in-culcated in the family they would as a result be adopted by the legislative bodies. The idea of marriage was greatly exalted and was transformed from a civil contract into a religious sacra-ment. Marriage was also to a certain extent restricted to non-relationship of the parties. With this greater sanctity added to the marriage relation came enactments by which restraints were placed upon divorce. Matrimony was considered as "the union of man and woman, constraining them to an inseparable co-habitation." Divorce was granted for a few reasons only, very similar to those of the present day. In its effect upon the laws of property Christianity came in only in an indirect manner. With the evolution which it brought about concerning persons and civil society, it also ex-erted a gradual effect upon the enactments concerning propri-etary rights, so that they came to be exercised to the best in-terests of those concerned. A new order of succession to the estate of the deceased was introduced. Legislation concerning crime was not so much affected by the introduction of Christianity. The laws with regard to crime and punishment, except those which distinguished the freedman from the slave, were moderately humane. This distinction be-tween, and the cruel nature of, the laws of the condition of the u8 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. slave as over against that of the master have been discussed above. The abhorrence which Christianity had for unlawful indul-gences caused the passage of laws for the prohibition of these indulgences and imposed penalties upon persons addicted to them. The modes of punishment were, however, made more humane. Crucifixion, for instance, was abolished. A greater amount of testimony was required to convict a person con-demned with crime. Better enactments were instituted concern-ing prisons and the treatment of their inmates. Legislation, in general, as affected by Christianity, was char-acterized by a more humane spirit and more liberal views to-wards the amelioration of man's condition. We may say that the ultimate result of Christianity upon the Roman law was to bring about; such adaptations of jurisprudence, in its varied ap-plications, as should best serve and attain moral ends. -^^-"^ SAMAR. A TRENCH dug in the sand, a sun-charred place, Outside the village whence the foe have fled; A shape in brown, blood-stained and some hours dead With unshut eyes and blue unshaven face. A type, a hero ! say you? he who lays His life down freely as the rain is shed, Whom high devotion from his home has led The stars and stripes in triumph to upraise. Such are the deaths of heroes—but do they In such unrighteous warfare loot and slay? Is not their blood more honorably spilt? Crown not his fame with undeserved praise: He hath partaken of his country's guilt And bears the crimson stain of her disgrace. —J. B. EDWARDS, in Western Md. College Monthly. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 119 THE SUB-CONSCIOUS SELF. FRED. A. HIGHTMAN, '02. *T*HERE lies beneath the threshold of the consciousness a. self "*" not the less real because so little known and recognized: indeed it is, for that very reason, all the more potent in its action and aggressive in directing the thoughts and deeds of men. When the sphere of its influence and the potency of its action come to be more fully recognized, and its existence as one of the chief constituents of the soul's energy is admitted as a fact in the philosophy of life and the psychology of mind, another jewel will be added to the rich store of knowledge now in possession of man. The little knowledge already gained of this, the real background and foundation of the soul's energy and character, offers to man the means of escaping the evils of hereditary taint and brings him to a better understanding of his true relations with God and the world. A correct understanding of this deep background of the con-scious life will do more for humanity than any possible cure for nervousness, insanity, and other failings of the brain; it will suggest the means of elevating man to a higher plane than ever before in the field of culture and morality. That the soul is continually undergoing a change not only in the moral realm but in all its intellectual activities as well, needs no proof; but when we find that, in her composite make-up, there is a constituent over which the intellect and will cannot always exercise their power, and that the sphere of its influence extends not only through the hours of slumber but through all the activities of life, we come to recognize in it a force far too significant to be ignored. We know that consciousness is a steady stream of thoughts, feelings and volitions, ever flowing through the mind in all its varied activities, and that the content is mainly received from without. The stream flows on over the horizon and seems to disappear. But it is never wholly lost; ever and anon is it re-called by memory, or is made to serve the power of imagina-tion. 120 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. It is to this realm of consciousness, this deep into which the stream pours, that we give the name of the sub conscious or the sub-limenal. It embraces the things that are recalled by voluntary or involuntary memory and all that cannot be so re-called. Out of its deep recesses come forth the issues of life. The past life thus emerges into the present and goes far in de-ciding for character and disposition. The conscious self and the sub conscious together form a dual relationship as complete and abiding as do the emotional and intellectual. There can be no thought without feeling; neither can there be any conscious effort without being in-fluenced more or less by the impressions absorbed and recorded in the sub conscious self during the past life. It is hard for a man, who is brought up in the midst of evil and cruelty, to free himself entirely from such influence, in his daily thought and action. These impressions are lasting and telling in the form-ation of character. He can never wholly escape from the influence of his early environment. And, what is more, they enter unawares and form a body of impressions and tendencies capable at any time of being transferred over to the realm of knowledge and thought. Such impulses to action often sur-prise us, and we wonder why the son is so like his father, especially in his faults. Too often do we attribute it to heredity, when it is merely a result of close companionship; the boy may have learned it by conscious observation and imitation, but he may just as likely have "followed suit," while unconscious of ever having received such an impression from his father, prob-ably at a very early age. Then, too, hereditary tendencies must be attended with similarity in the modification of brain and nerve cells in father and son, and when no such similarity exists at birth, there must be some conditions of environment to en-sure tendencies so often ascribed to heredity. Make a change of home for the boy before the age of puberty, while his char-acter is not yet fully formed, and he will be quick to change in temperament and adapt himself to the new environment. Even a perceptible bias may be overcome, and, under the stimulus of proper conditions, aided by a true appreciation of the enor- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 121 mity and heinousness of an evil to which he is particularly liable, he may be able to free himself entirely from its power. So unobtrusive are these forces of the sub conscious, and yet so potent in their influence over man, that his character and disposition are apt to change without his being aware of it. A student will have a close friend and may associate with him freely, but will invariably fail to see that his companion is all the time exerting a powerful influence over his soul, either re-tarding or developing the growth of his good habits. He enters his friend's room and finds him busily engaged as usual, caus ing the very atmosphere about him to seem charged with activ-ity and purpose. The visitor glances around the room only to see the same harmony of decency and order in the arrange-ment of papers and books. He may not take special note of it, for he has come on an errand and is directing his conscious energy upon the matter of conversation in hand, but at the same time there enters into his sub conscious self a correct im-pression of all about him, and with it comes an appeal to his aesthetic nature. He has been greatly benefitted thereby. If he is inclined to slothful habits, there will rise up in his breast a feeling of disgust for himself, followed perhaps by new resolu-tions. These new motives will cause him to improve his sur-roundings and arouse in him a desire to do better work. Thus will he be elevated in character and self-respect, and at the same time, the ties of friendship between him and his friend may be greatly strengthened, though he may be wholly oblivious as to whom he owes the credit of the transformation. These sub conscious influences are as potent in their power over the other faculties of mind. The condition and the power of adaptation to the work at hand will decide the competency of.the workman. In the deepest mental work—that of thought or reason—the effective work is accomplished by the will only under favorable circumstances, when there are no outside or in-trusive impressions to hinder or retard the working of the thought powers. A man put to work amid new and strange surroundings soon finds himself unable to work with his former celerity and accuracy; his mind is being disturbed, the while 122 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. endeavoring to readjust itself to the new surroundings, and the energy of the sub-conscious self, instead of assisting the intellect, now requires a portion of the soul's energy which the intellect is wont to make use of; so that if he attempt by mere force of will to recall or produce a thought, he may be wholly unable to do so. But when the mind is at home the thought will come to him with comparative ease. There are, however, conditions with which it is hardly pos-sible to become accustomed in the pursuance of intellectual activity—at least to the degree of non impressibility. A student, for instance, may be of a nervous temperament—a condition probably brought about by his early environment in the home or elsewhere, who, in the preparation of the lesson, may be annoyed continually by some low but constant sound, or by the continual intrusion of a thought caused by an un-worthy desire to make "good marks." He is endeavoring to concentrate his attention upon the study, but the sub-conscious impressions time and again thrust themselves up into the con-scious thought and claim his undivided attention, so often it may be, that they sometimes cause him to despair of success in his work. The recitation follows and even though he has had comparative success in his study he may not be able to re-cite, because of the absence of the conditions and impressions he had during the study hour, whether they were of conscious effort—as the constant thought of possible failure, or impres-sions received ^ub-consciously from the varied surroundings. An instance may be cited analogous to this in which a student had determined to make a good recitation, but was unfortunate in trying to prepare the lesson while taking a walk along a quiet path. The unusual mental effort, at a time when a part of that portion of the soul's energy generally required by the intellect was being appropriated by the senses to record within the sub-conscious self the impressions received from the new surround-ings of nature, caused him to make a complete failure in recita-tion. Such manner of study may indeed be of no benefit what-ever to the future life. The power of complete concentration of thought—the power THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 123 to use at will all or nearly all of the soul's energy at command should be one of the first lessons in the life of the student. If the youth has been fortunate in spending his early life in the country, where there is every chance of developing his power of concentration by the soothing effect of the contemplation of nature and the quiet hour of rest after a day of hard toil, he will be a fine subject for the higher education, or a promising youth to fill a position requiring the service of a skillful and trusty financier. It is a noteworthy fact that the boys of the country are the successful men in the city. Were it not for the addition of the wholesome lives which the country boys make to the city life, it would soon become lifeless and collapse. The city life, with its excitement and bustle, is not a fit school for the early development of the boy; there is too much hurry and diversity of purpose to permit a normal development of the conscious self, and too many uncertain and harmful impressions upon the sub-conscious self. It generally produces an abnormal development of the susceptibility and is apt to cause a nervous condition of the organism. When this occurs the power of con-centration is weak and the boy can no longer control his thoughts or, it may be, even his temper; neither can he tell when he will have feelings of satisfaction or discontent, for the sub-conscious self, which has grown out of proportion, is continu-ally asserting its authority and influence over the conscious self. The growing youth or young man can, by selecting and choosing his environment, modify the force of these sub-con-scious impressions, and thus change his whole life. If he is conscious of any change of feeling that he cannot account for, he would do well to look about him for the cause. There is probably near him some sound or motion which has awakened within his sub-conscious self a like impression, which in turn has revived the mood or feeling he had at the time of such impres-. sion and may even cause the suggestion of some former thought. Impressions thus received sub-consciously may have been stored away since early childhood. The reading of the funeral service at the burial of some friend, or even some peculiarity in the 124 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. attitude or personality of the pastor may be awakened for the first time after many years, bringing with it the feeling of sad-ness experienced at that time. The environment of the youth, then, and the manner of his education is of the utmost importance. If the teacher of the child is cross and inactive, even though there are opposite in-fluences at work, the impressions received of the manner and the tone of voice will be far more effective upon the life of the child than the conscious effort of the child to master the lesson. The kind word of the mother in the time of need and trouble, or the assistance of a little friend, will tell greatly in the forma-tion of its character. Why, then, should we not expect the child to be like the parent? Is it not learning only by experi-ence and observation ? And is not the very foundation of all its future intellectual activities and moral attainments being grounded and formulated by these early impressions and thoughts? In the very choice of the furniture and adornments about the house—the carpet, the color of the wall—the parent shows his or her taste and likes or dislikes, and these become as much a part of the child as are the peculiarities in its mode of expression or even in its physical structure. The little prayer at mother's knee, though at the time it may not have had much meaning to the little one, other than that of obedience to mother, will in after Irfe be to him as a guiding star through the dark clouds of fear and doubt. The humble trustful attitude of the mother and the earnestness of those tender loving words ad-dressed to the infinite Father somewhere above, will not only awaken in the little breast implicit trust and faith but will go far in molding a character and disposition of like temperament that will not easily be lost in the face of adverse conditions. The religious life almost invariably has its root in and is dependent for constancy upon these early impressions received often un-consciously and at a period of life when all must be taken as a matter of course, and be considered as conformable to the nat-ural order. Nor is it of small concern to the growing youth what kind of literature he shall read or with what class of companions he may THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 125 associate. The noble character in the good book, which is read thoughtfully and earnestly, will affect his soul and character as much as his living associates. All the time he will be pictur-ing to his mind's eye their various traits and dispositions, and these conscious efforts, whether of the imagination or not, will pre-pare his mind more surely to receive like impressions from all other sources. The mind always tends to act in the same way it has done in the past. And so, when the youth comes into contact with a friend, he will unconsciously seek out and find in him, if it be there, that same good quality or virtue the desire for which has already been implanted in his own breast. And the result will be that a living embodiment of the ideal in the book is being presented to him, which will become more and more precious as he grows older. Can we wonder then why the child is so like the parent, or why the intimate friend has influenced so profoundly the character of his fellow? K^y ON READING THE CEDIPUS OF SOPHOCLES. WE read the tale of CEdipus, the king, That lofty, frenzied soul, who shuddering fled From crime to crime, till all the sky flamed red, And glorious earth became a loathsome thing ; Then plucked he tortured eyeballs from his head, And staggered on through doom and God's deep hate, 'Mid whirling darkness of the winds of fate, Led by his daughters' love to join the dead. The tale was done, and homeward trod we late, The village street, antithesis of strife, But low the eyeless clouds with ambush rife, Their silence dumb and dread maintained, And in our hushed and sobered spirits reigned The old night-shrouded mysteries of life. —Williams Lit. 126 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. A ROMANCE OF THE REBELLION. STANLEY G. FOWLER, '04. ^\NE Spring morning, in my Sophomore year at Pennsyl- ^-, vania College, Gettysburg, my fancy drifted to scenes of war, and, being at leisure, I began an aimless stroll over the field, whose victory saved our Union. Unconsciously, though probably led by the grandeur of the scene, I slowly made my way to a wooded elevation—Culp's Hill—whereon our boys were stationed in '63, and where un-ceasingly, for one whole day, the Rebels sought to dislodge them. I had reached the summit and while debating mentally whether or no I would mount the government observatory built there, my eye caught the form of an elderly gentleman, seated upon a huge boulder half-way down the rear of the hill. Immediately my plan was laid, for, driven by natural im-pulses that ever make man crave for society, I determined to join him. I knew a number of New York veterans to be out on the field this morning, and surmising this man to be of that band I slowly approached him, for rudeness seldom gains its point; still, were my surmise correct, I had fully intended drawing from him some tales of the deeds, brought vividly to mind on one's view-ing again the scenes of their enactment. The old man had heard me approaching and now looked up calmly and with a good-natured smile addressed me. "Good morning, my boy, out strolling too?" "Yes, sir," I replied, and remembering my purpose added, "'tis ever a pleasure to me to wander over a field so dear to us all." "Ah!" said he quickly, "it almost repays one to hear young America talk that way," (He was a veteran and here was my opportunity) Quickly following up my advantage, I ventured, "Were you stationed here during that "second day?" The old man smiled—-as though discovered—and answered, "Yes, my boy; at one time during that day I wasn't far from this very spot." THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 127 I looked about me. To be here during "that day !" Imme-diately I recalled how we had studied of the noble charges the Rebels made all through "that day," and as I thought, it flashed upon me that here, this very line, was where our boys lay and so gallantly held the hill. Yes I was correct, for to both right and left stretched a line of regimentel monuments, plainly mark-ing the position ; but even better proof met my earnest gaze, for I awoke to the fact as I looked, that the very boulder we sat upon was the center of a trench, a low, now thickly grown wall of earth that stretched to the right and left, clear 'round the base of the hill. But for one to sit there and look down, down fifty feet or more, over the wildest, rockiest, roughest hillside that even a fertile imagination could conceive of; down over an area, well nigh impassable with trees, rocks and undergrowth, and to think then of the charges and repulses made, why Culp's Hill at once assumed a new beauty to me. I looked at the man, half doubting that ever human being could come out from such a hell as this; to calmly view it now with not so much as a look of wonder. The rock upon which we were seated had split from a main and larger body and lay directly in line with the low earthern wall; for say five feet on the sides of it were spaces. Low stone walls joined the rock to the earthern works on either side, and thus the protection stretched unbroken, save in height. Directly in front of our boulder, on an angle not quite as steep as the hillside, stretched the moss-covered face of the enormous main body (from which our resting place had split), forming a perfect plaza fully fifty feet square, clear up to the breastworks; and, over this vast boulder's lower ledge, up upon its smooth face, charged the Rebels, for history records their once reaching the trench. The spot we occupied was—could a decision be given—the wildest spot on the line. Turning, I saw the monument, some distance in our rear, to be the I22d N. Y. I now knew the old man's regiment, but was not carrying out my purpose. 128 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "It must have taken true courage for a man ever to reach this line, and none but Americans could ever have held the po-sition," I remarked. "Yes," he said, "they were brave boys to reach us. It was hard to shoot them down when they did get here. Hard for more reasons than one." "But how did you ever get out of this place uninjured?" I persisted. "Well, my boy, I didn't exactly. Down in that opening there"—and he pointed to the crack between the main boulder and the one upon which we sat—"down in there I lost pretty nearly all the life I had with me at the time." I looked at the fissure he designated, an aperture about four feet across, extending the one dimension of the rock and filled out with earth and underbrush 'till it was no deeper than about three feet. I now had visions of hearing a miracle. How could a man fall wounded there and ever be found ? I became desperate in my anxiety to hear, and arising, I bluntly exclaimed, "Sir, will you kindly tell me of that day?" Patiently, but eagerly, I awaited the result of this advance. The old man's face gradually lost its look of surprise, and over blankness there crept a genial expression of new-born friend-ship. "Well," said he, "sit down, my boy, and I'll tell you of scenes now dulled by forty years." "To begin with, memory takes me back to Savannah, Ga., where lay, nestled in her spacious campus, my old Alma Mater." "It may seem strange that one from America's metropolis could wander so far to a college, but I was ever eager to forsake, for growing years at any rate, that thought destroying din of city life." "My class of '61 had reached its Senior year. For three whole years had I reveled in Southern romance and nature. Far from my native State my erstwhile fancy had all but turned to love for a clime that, three years before, was strange to me." THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 129 "During my course, I had indeed made friends, as only col-lege associations can create, and, above all, by far the brightest spot in the memory of those days was the friendship, yes love, that had unconsciously possessed me, for one of Georgia's maids, a girl whose acquaintance I'd made at my first Fraternity dance. "From the day of my coming it was looked upon as strange, for even then was brewing that strife so soon upon us. "There were four in the class from my State, and dimly I could notice national pride struggling against the brotherly friendship my classmates held for us. At every visit made at the home of this maid, I could clearly see the feeling, while not strong enough in her to conquer her love, still full strong enough in her parents to curtail my stay. But I was not alone in the struggle for this maid's affections. A native Georgian, a dark-haired, handsome youth, a classmate of mine had, long 'ere my arrival, in vain sought her hand, and now, as I slowly but clearly gained the preference, his rivalry grew intense. "But to hasten on, one evening, as a score of us sat about the grate fire in my study, rather heatedly discussing secession, news reached us of Lincoln's election. Our discussion came to an abrupt end. Mightily were the passions of patriotism and friendship at strife within us, and slowly and in silence we separated. "When all had gone, realizing that were I a man, my stay in G. must cease, as my place was in the ranks of the Union, I hastily gathered some few valuables and stealthily leaving the dormitory, made my way to the home of my sweetheart. There, at the gate, I met her weeping She too had heard the news that must forever shatter fond dreams. "I can't tell of that parting".—here the old man's frame trembled, tears came to his eyes, but with an effort he sup-pressed all, and, looking up, continued: "Enough to say that our lives were pledged to promises of future bliss. "We parted as secretly as we had met, and continuing away, I so fixed my clothing, etc., as to present the appearance of a 130 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. rustic. Thus disguised I made my way to the wharf and as a stowaway reached New York. "At the first call I enlisted, together with my brother, in the regiment commanded by my father, the 122nd New York. Home ties were not a straw for we were blessed with a mother whose patriotism excelled our own, and whose farewell instilled that courage such as only can win a struggle. "Well, our regiment saw considerable active service from the war's very outbreak, and on the second day of this grand fight, had this stone wall to hold. "Opposed to us was the flower of the Southern army, and the regiment sent to take this position of our stronghold was the Seventh Georgia, raised and recruited from the ranks of my old college. "You have often heard this war typified as the 'strife of brothers,' and so it was. Here I was to shoot down the boys I had learned almost to love, but duty was plain before me and mine was the righteous cause. "Well, they charged us twice, and twice were they sent back. During the second charge they had almost reached us; some had scaled the ledge of that great rock right in front here and were face to face with us. In desperation, leaping upon this low stone wall, I stood almost touching my old Georgia rival, who led his men. I didn't have the heart to fire, but he did, and I dropped here in this opening between the rocks. "There I lay unnoticed, while my life slowly ebbed. Dark-ness was now upon us, and as I lay there fast reviewing scenes of old, I felt a hand upon my throat. " 'Well, here you are, eh, haven't moved a bit,' sneered a voice close to my face. 'I reckoned to have finished you an hour ago. Roy, it comes hard for one to fall by the hand of a friend, but you know that Mary waits for one of us to return. I intend to be that one!' And as he spoke the hand tightened upon my throat. I merely groaned; that's all I could do, when, as though from heaven, a figure fell across my body. Then the hand left my throat. That is all I remembered that THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 131 night. When I awoke I lay in the hospital tent swathed in bandages. "Slowly I recovered and soon was out. It was my own brother in search of me, who had saved me, but my Georgia 'friend' had escaped back to his ranks. "This was my last fight. After the war, seeking betterment to my broken health, I journeyed South. There, once more fond memory prompting, the old flame burned, and journeying on to my old college town, quietly I sought fulfilment of that hastily made promise. "I found Mary, but alas, no longer free. My rival, thinking full well my end had come, returning brought such as fact, and I, poor, foolish man, was beaten. "That's all, my boy, I can't mention this rivals's name, for he's now prominent in the politics of the Union he once op-posed. Often we meet in open debate, for I represented my State in the same assemblage. 'Tis there only that my re-venge, if any, is granted, but God knows he won a prize far beyond my power to gain. "Alone I have lived since, and you are the first and probably the last to hear this, one incident of an awful strife, a remembrance of this low stone wall." The old man drew out his watch and observing that it was high time to be moving, he arose to go. Not wanting to pre-sume, for I saw him to be deeply affected by a story, the romance of his life, I, insisting, thanked him sincerely, and he left me alone, absorbed in a new-born thought. HABAKKUK. Silence and night—black night: A striving all in vain to reach the light, A rugged watch tower lifts its massive height. Darkness and clouds—despair: And on the lonely watch tower wrestling there, A strong man waits an answer to his prayer. Starlight and peace—deep peace : Upon the tower the awful conflicts cease; The kneeling man through faith has found release. —E. A. P., in The Lesbian Herald. I 32 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. NATURE IN EMERSON'S POETRY.* (Honorable Mention Graeff Prize Essay). J. F. NEWMAN, '02. KALPH W. EMERSON, born in Boston, May 25, 1803, was the son of a minister. His mother, Ruth Haskins, a lady of great dignity, sweetness and piety, although left a widow with five small children, managed to give four of them academic education. After the completion of his course at Harvard Ralph aided in the support of the family by teach-ing for some years, and finally decided to enter the ministry, graduating from Harvard Divinity School in 1826. His ministerial career, however, has little bearing on our sub-ject. Glancing briefly at his early boyhood, when his mind was in its formative state, we find that he frequently visited at the home of the Rev. Dr. Ripley, the "Old Manse," at Concord. In the fields and woods along the Concord River he came into close touch with Nature, and formed the foundation and back-ground of many of his literary productions. Doubtless we may attribute to these visits much of that intense love of Na-ture, which, when disappointment and distress entered his life, caused him instinctively to turn to her, "Who will be all things to all men," for consolation; and probably to the same cause may be attributed his right to be styled a true nature poet. The greatest requisite of any poet is ability to appreciate correctly the two great sources from which his materials must come—man and the external universe. Only a person who is deeply in love with Nature can with propriety sing as Emerson does in "The Park." "Enchanters! Enchantresses! Your gold makes you seem wise ; The morning mist within your grounds More proudly rolls, more softly lies." * Facts relative to Emerson's life are from Edw. W. Emerson's sketch of his life. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 133 "Yet spake you purple mountain, Yet said you ancient wood, That Night or Day, that Love or Crime, Leads all souls to the Good." Or, from his delightful description, how beautiful must a snow storm have seemed to him. "Announced by all the trumpets of the sky Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields Seems nowhere to alight; the whited air Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven, And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end—" ****** "Out from an unseen quarry evermore Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer Curves his white bastions with projected roof Round every windward stake, or tree, or door." Surely it may truthfully be said that Emerson lived close to Nature's heart and was an appreciative observer of all her manifold phenomena. With equal truth it might also be said that he had genuine pity for those who cannot receive pleasure from Nature for he must have held such in mind when he wrote: "The brook sings on, but sings in vain Wanting an echo in my brain." That his productions may be true nature poetry, the poet must not only be appreciative of Nature, but must also possess the happy facility of describing her vividly and tenderly. As we read these lines from "My Garden"— "In my plot no tulips blow— Snow-loving pines and oaks instead And rank the savage maples grow From Spring's faint flush to Autumn's red." "My garden is a forest ledge Which older forests bound; The banks slope down to the blue lake-edge Then plunge to depths profound''— ! a delightful picture, which shows the delicate and loving touch I 36 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. of a master-spirit, rises in fancy and we see our poet sit in his forest-garden, enjoying its sweet odors and gazing meditatingly to the blue lake beyond. It is almost impossible to select representative descriptions from such poems as "The Adirondacks," "Musketaquid," "Sea-shore" and "May Day," each of which seems to be a portrayal of a different portion of Nature's marvels. "The Adirondacks," is a description of a journey in the mountains, of such vividness that the reader and not the author appears to be the actual participant. How beautiful and realistic is the following homely quotation: "Ten scholars, wonted to lie warm and soft In well-hung chambers daintily bestowed, Lie here in hemlock boughs, like Sacs and Sioux, And greet unanimous the joyful change." ******** "Our foaming ale we drank from hunters' pans, Ale, and a sup of wine. Our steward gave Venison and trout, potatoes, beans, wheat-bread ; All ate like abbots, and, if any missed Their wonted convenance, cheerily hid the loss With hunters' appetite and peals of mirth." Musketaquid deals primarily with the farm in the New England valley. The rural description, however, is illustrated with happy word pictures which make this poem one of Emer-son's sweetest, as: "Sparrows far off, and nearer April's bird, Blue-coated—flying from tree to tree, Courageous sing a delicate overture To lead the tardy concert of the year. Onward and nearer rides the sun of May; And wide around, the marriage of the plants Is sweetly solemnized. There flows amain The surge of Summer's beauty; dell and crag, Hollow and lake, hillside and pine arcade, Are touched with genius." Frequently persons intensely fond of woodland beauty receive little pleasure from the ocean; but Emerson appears to have THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 135 had equal adoration for each portion of Nature's handiwork and could sing of the ocean's beauty as sweetly as of his own dear walks and retreats. The following extract is from Seashore: "Behold the sea, The opaline, the plentiful and strong, Yet beautiful as is a rose in June, Fresh as a trickling rainbow of July." May-day is a brightly colored picture of the awakening of slumbering Nature. The dormant faces are represented as springing into life when "Coy Spring, With sudden passion languishing, Teaching barren moors to smile, Painting pictures mile on mile, Holds a cup with cowslips wreaths, Whence a smokeless incense breathes." Does he describe Nature? He does more. He transfers living Nature from the external world to his pages without losing the scent of the flowers, the flutter of birds' wings or the tone of the waterfalls. She was real to him and he has given her to us in her reality. But the living universe was more to Emerson than an enter-tainer of the imagination. She was a teacher of noble truths. A boy he discovered her mysteries; later in life he carried his problems to her for solution. It was with a certainty of his correctness, determined by experience, that he wrote "Chide me not, laborious band, For the idle flowers I bought; Every aster in my hand Goes home loaded with a thought." "There was never mystery But 'tis figured in the flowers; Was never secret history But birds tell it in the bowers." —(The Apology). In his philosophical quest Emerson represents "The Sphinx" as advising him as follows: 136 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. ' 'So take thy quest through nature, It through thousand natures ply : Ask on, thou clothed eternity ; Time is the false reply." "Through a thousand voices Spoke the universal dame; Who telleth one of my meanings, Is master of all I am." However obscure and unsatisfactory his conclusions may have been, we know positively that he believed in some power back of Nature, controlling both her and him. When asked "whence is the Rhodora," he wrote Rhodora ! if the sages ask thee why This charm is wasted on the earth and sky, Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, Then beauty is its own excuse for being ; Why wert thou there, O rival of the rose ! I never thought to ask, I never knew ; But, in my simple ignorance, suppose The self-same Power that brought me there brought you. Emerson's life, we must think, sorrow and his disagreement on ably a not very happy one. Yet ings in fact—there is no trace of piest spirit everywhere exhibited that his loved mistress (Nature) His poem. "Good-bye," seems to thought with its varying shadows of religious questions, was prob-in his poetry—in all his writ-bitterness, but only the hap- May we not, therefore, say lent contentment to his life? be impregnated with this one "And when I am stretched beneath the pines, Where the evening stars so holy shine, I laugh at the love and the pride of man, At the sophist schools and the learned clan ; For what are they all, in their high conceit, When man in the bush with God may meet?" Perhaps the most beautiful feature of our poet's work is the fact that he deals lovingly with every item of Nature's creation, overlooking nothing; and yet it is not in single detail that he THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 137 admires her, but as a connected whole. "Each and all," from which we have chosen some leaves, shows this best. "I thought the sparrow's note from heaven, Singing at dawn on the cedar bough ; I brought him home, in his nest, at even ; He sings the song, but it cheers not now, For I did not bring home the river and sky— He sang to my ear—they sang'to my eye." Milton says that poetry must possess three qualities' if its author would deserve to b$ designated poet—must be simple, sensuous, passionate. Measured by this standard, we believe Emerson deserves the title. His poetry, as a rule, is simple; in some the theme is difficult; but by careful application any person can understand him, and having found the real flavor, will follow it passionately. Enough has already been said to show that it is sensuous. His own passion for Nature is transferred to his pages that we may enjoy her as he did. It was the consciousness of having given something to the world that caused Emerson to enjoy his poetry and send it to us with this mission: "Go speed the stars of thought On to their shining goals— The sower scatters broad his seeds, The wheat thou strew'st be souls." VOICES IN THE QUAD. Happy days have slowly dwindled And we're parting lads, at last; College scenes and college mem'ries Are but dreamings of the past Still our hearts are closely clinging And our thoughts are ever winging To the voices that are singing. Ah ! the voices in the quad. Songs we love and songs we cherish Of the days that never perish, Sing the voices in the quad. -DAN DEVLIN, '02, in the Georgetown College Journal THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entered at the Postofflce at Gettysburg' as second-class matter Vol. XI GETTYSBURG, PA., JUNE, 1902 No. 4 Editor-in-chief Assistant Editors Exchange Editor H. S. LEWARS, '03 Miss MARY WILSON, '04 SAM. P. WEAVER, '04 LYMAN A. GUSS, '04 Business Manager E. CARL MUMFORD, '03 Advisory Board PROF. J. A. HIMES, LITT.D. Asst. Business Manager PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M.D. FRED. MASTERS, '04 PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D.D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance; single copies 15 cents. Notice to discontinue sending the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Busi-ness Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS. The Commencement season is at hand. ADIEU, 1902. ~, " . . , . , r . 1 he benior in his cap and gown is a familiar sight. Examinations are over, a few more finishing touches on the oration and all will be done. This is a season both of joy and sadness. Joy because of the happy years gone by. Sad because they will never be reciprocated; sad at the thought to leave one's alma mater and beloved classmates. Friendships ships and acquaintances have been formed, which shall be lasting. There is a peculiar relation existing between classmates. All have one end in view, and that makes work enjoyable; we should be thankful that it is so. All the unpleasant things, all the hard asks will be forgotten, the memory will not take note of them, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 139 they are so small and it will have so many happy experiences to recall. "When the act of reflection takes place in the mind, when we look at ourselves in the light of thought, we discover that our life is embosomed in beauty." You look back over from now and they seem pleasant. Years after you will think of them as the happiest period in life. It's a good thing* for men to work shoulder to shoulder, and one of the happy recol-lections shall be of united labors in some college department. Much of the four years' work has been enjoyable; some tasks, too. have been distasteful, but they will be forgotten. Emerson has rightly said, "Behind us, as we go, all things as-sume pleasing forms as clouds do far off." He said that when he was well on in years and knew life, "The soul will know neither deformity or pain," and we should rejoice. The older you grow the more precious will these years seem. Such must be your thoughts, O, Seniors, as you bid us adieu. The alumni and friends of the college will no doubt be glad to know that the Spectrum for this year is in circulation. It is a different publication from any other in the college, and is expository in character. Rob-ert Burns once expressed a heartfelt wish, "O, wad some power the giftie gie us To see oursel's as others see us." When he said that he had no idea that it would ever be ful-filled. He did not know of the Spectrum. If a man wants to see himself from the standpoint of his fellow let him seek that knowl-edge in this publication. The Editor is by no means respon-sible for your bad feelings; he is merely a student of public opinion, and publishes what he sees and hears. It has truth for its foundation, and the members of the staff have a scien-tific mania for fact. Self-knowledge and progress is its aim. Its very existence was caused by a wish such as Burns'. But the managers determined to do what Scotland's Shakes-peare could not or did not, and the Spectrum came forth a new 140 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. creation. Every succeeding class has followed this example and has believed that "It {Spectrum) wad frae monie a blunder free us and foolish notions." It has reached its aim. But, too, it chronicles deeds of bravery and does not waste all its time trying to pull the mote out of its brother's eye. Nineteen three believes in self-knowl-edge, and has carefully arranged all matters pertaining to the institution in their true light. There is no knowledge without light, so get a Spectrum and see. THE END OF WORK. There is a faithful saying—"The end crowns the work," which has been held precious by the laborer since time immemorial. True—but when there is a limit to it, the coronation comes whether you have worked or not. But, oh, what a coronation! The end of our year's work is here, but the kind of end depends on the work during the year. Why this end should be the special delight of so many is hard to understand. Work is surely not such a drudge that we are glad to leave it. Work is a pleasure—it is healthy. The end of one task should only incite to greater conquest. There is no end of work. The man who is looking towards He who looks towards the end The ability to work to-morrow is according to your ability to work to-day. No man has ever become strong or great who has not worked patiently and in-defatigably. The great are the hardest workers and the hum-blest servants. Men are strong because they have worked. Idleness is weakness. Do you wish to know the true man ? See him at work. Then you can measure his power, then you have an insight into his real nature. The fisherman at the shore is made a teacher of men, Elisha at the plow is made the prophet, Saul, the persecutor, is made Paul the Apostle. There is no room for the idle man, only the laborer is promoted. Work is power. There is German saying, ''Arbeit iiber-wiindet alles" Labor only is the key to success. If happiness the end is himself an idler, will never do much work THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 141 is the great good to man he will find it only in work. And, having found his work, let him concentrate his energy and do it and not seek the end. EXCHANGES. A number of our exchanges are somewhat late in making their appearance this month. Most of those that have arrived, however, show an improvement over last month's issue, es-pecially in their exchange columns. Some, nevertheless, fail to recognize the real purpose of this department, and fill the space with general notes of the college world. This evidently is not the purpose of the exchange column, and several editors could greatly improve their journals by giving this department a thorough remodeling. We are very sorry that no exchange column appeared in last month's issue. For it the exchange editor has no apology to offer. The exchanges were reviewed and written up as usual, but, owing to a seemingly unavoidable circumstance, were cast into the printer's waste-basket. We hope, however, that this will not occur again. We are glad to add the Theilensian to our exchange list. The article "The Decline in Candidates for the Ministry" is very good. The exchange column, however, could be greatly improved by using it for the review and criticism of their ex-changes. THE HEART'S LONGING. There's a warm, warm wind comes from the South, With a promise and a song, A song that wells from a rose-lipped mouth In cadence full and strong. It whispers, whispers through the day To the hearts of longing men, That the time is coming down the way When the woods turn green again. —R. B., Free Lance. 142 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Tlie Juniata Echo for May contains an excellent article on "Juniata—Tradition and Spirit." Among other things the writer says: "College spirit is that undefinable, but none the less real fact of enthusiastic devotion, which unconsciously takes hold of the ideal student in course of his growth into and with an institution, and causes him to rejoice over every mark of its superiority." For the High School exchanges of last month we have nothing but praise. Each editor seems to have made a special effort to send out a good paper. Among these the K. H. 5 Myth is the best. The essay "Character is Power" is very fine. It also contains some splendid cuts. The others most worthy of mention are The Argus, The X Ray and The Delphic News. The first issue of the Phoenix for May is not very well bal-anced. Most of the space is taken up with athletic and local news, much to the detriment of the literary department, which does not contain an article worthy of perusal. The May number of the Forum was one of the best ex-changes received during month. It contains an excellent ar-ticle on "The Study of Philosophy-" The editorial on the "Grind" and college sport is very well written. We agree that they are not true college men. Among the other exchanges the best are the Lesbian Herald, The Buff and Blue, The Amulet, The Midland and The Ursinus College Journal. The lamps I light along life's way May throw their rays on meagre space ; The flowers I scatter day by day May brighten but a little space. Yet, if I light to a higher goal One who the upward path would gain, Or cheer some sorrowing, starving soul, I cannot count my labor vain. —E. C. D., The Midland. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 143 BOOK REVIEW. An American at Oxford, By JOHN CORBIN. Boston: Hough-ton, Mifflin & Co., #1.50. In the educational world there is no more widely discussed subject to-day than Oxford University, its methods and life. For many years Americans were not attracted to Oxford and Oxford gave no inducements to Americans. Most graduate students went to Germany. The Oxford scholarships provided for Americans by the will of the late Cecil Rhodes have drawn special attention to this historic school. Strange to say, as Mr. Corbin mentions in his preface, his book, "An American at Oxford," went into press on the day of the publication of Mr. Rhodes' will. The book is therefore specially interesting. We have heard enough of Ox ford from the English, but to get an account of the University from an American, who judges it from an American standpoint, is wholesome. Ask an Englishman why Oxford has the best system of in-struction and he'll do anything but answer your question. Mr. Corbin's book, however, treats of Oxford in all its phazes and in a manner very charming. The social life of the University is first discussed, which is quite different from other universities of Europe, and the author does not fail to call attention to the contrast. The part of the book that will interest college men is Oxford Out of Doors. The author gives detailed accounts of Track and Field Athletics and at the end, of course, contrasts Ameri-can and English sportsmanship. The English student engages in sport of some kind, which the author thinks is very salutary. Alas, in some of our American Universities time is barely given for exercise ! True to Oxford spirit one part of the book is de-voted to the History of the University. The Problems of the American University are ably discussed. The author is not derogatory of other universities in his con-trast between them and Oxford, and has made the book both interesting and instructive. 144 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. As/c you r bookseller to showyou th ese books. Published by Hinds £r» AIobley New York. Songs of All the Colleges - $1.50 Songs of the Eastern Colleges - - 1.26 Songs of the Western Colleges - - 1.25 New Songs for Glee Clubs - .60 3 Minute Declamations for College Men 1.00 8 Minute IteadingB for College Girls - 1.00 New Pieces for Prize Speaking - - 1.26 Proa and Cons (Complete Debates) - 1.60 Commencament Parts,( Orations, Essays, etc) 1.60 Established 1867 by Allen Walton. Allen K. Walton, Pres. and Treas. Robt. J. Walton, Superintendent. HomiDelsfown "pown Stone Oompanjj, QUARRYMEN and Manufacturers of BUILDING STONE, SAWED FLAGGING, and TILE, WALTOPILLE, " PENNA. Contractors for all kinds of Cut Stone Work. Telegraph and Kxpress Address, BROWNSTONE, PA. Parties visiting Quarries will leave c;>rs ;>' I'rowri^tone Station, on the P & R. R.R. RIDER A0ENTS WANTED $9 fo"$!5 $7 to $11 one in each town to ride and exhibit a sample 1902 model bicycle of our manufacture. YOU CAM MAKE $10 TO $SOA IVEEKhesidea having a wheel to rideforyourself. S882 Models &S2S 1900 and 1901 ModelsS BOO SeomieS Hand Wheels i taken In trade by our Chicago retail stores, aU { makes and models, good as new We ship any bicycle OH APPROVAL to any-one without a cent deposit in advance and allow You take absolutely no risk in ordering from us, as you do not need to pay a cent if the bicycle does not suit you. S(J* UfdT EtPIV a wheel until you have written for our y mm Dill FACTORY PRICES & FREE TRIAL OFFER. Tires, equipment, sundries and sporting goods of all kinds, at half regular prices, in our big free sundry catalogue. Con-tains a world of useful information. Write for it. WE WAMT& reliable person in each town to distribute catalogues for us in exchange for a bicycle. Write today for free catalogue and our special offer. J. L. MilS CYCLE GO., Chicago, III. 10 BAYS FREE TRIAL. PATRONIZE OUR ADVEKTIZERS. T- # Manufacturers of high grade yyp|| [|J Fraternity Emblems i3 ' Fraternity Jewelry I^j \ Go. Fraternity Novelties Fraternity Stationery Fraternity Invitations 140-144 Woodward Avenue, Fraternity Announcements DETROIT, MICH. Fraternity Programs Send for Catalogue and Price List. Special Designs on Application CAPITOL CITY CAFE, Corner Fourth and Market Streets, HARRISBURG, PA. First-class Rooms Furnished. Special Rates to Private Parties. Open Day and Night. European Plan. Lunch of all Kinds to Order at the Restaurant. ALDINGER'S CAPITOL CITY CAFE. POPULAR PRICES. Partridge's Athletic Goods. For Base Ball, Basket Ball, Tennis, Hockey, Track and Gymnasium use. Managers should write at once for Catalogues and confidential quo-tations We manufacture Sweaters, Jerseys, Tights, Caps, Pennants, etc. Illustrated Catalogues Free. ROBERT LENKER, Agent, Gettysburg College. Horace Partridge & Co., 84 FRANKLIN ST., - BOSTON, MASS COLLEGE EMBLEMS Engraver, Designer and Manufacturing Jeweler, 19 S. NINTH ST., - PHILADELPHIA. SPECIAI/TIES : Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All goods ordered through A. N. BEAN. EMIL ZOTHE PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTIZERS. ,TE GETTYSBURG, PA. Merville E. Zinn, Proprietor. G, The Leading Hotel. Rates $2.00 per day. Cuisine and Service First-Class. Long &. Holtzworth Livery Attached. VM/ Wve ^©tu^yt ©otoV6< a/vi/d uv©a"U/©6< wv * ouvtvve6- uwtt vdwaAv uo^i. o-uA-Ulill fll. Seligman, Taiio*. 5 Chambersbupg St., Gettysburg, Pa. HELP THOSE WHO HELP US. r, THE BOLTON Market Square, HARRISBURG, PA. Rates $2.00 per day ar.d up. Special Rates for Commercial Men. Large and convenient Sample Rooms. Passenger and Baggage Elevator. Electric Cars to and from Depot. Electric Light and Steam Heat. Rooms En-suite or Single with Bath. /. H. & M. S. BUTTMRWORTH, Props. SPALDING'S TRADEMARK on Athletic Goods is the guarantee of quality. Don't be deceived by "just as good" that some dealers offer you. Spalding's supplies are made better and last longer—and the price cheaper, when you consider the wear and tear they will stand Spalding's goods are made to last with the toughest kind of use. A. G. SPALDING & BROS. INCORPORATED NEW YORK CHICAGO DENVER J. I. MUMPER. 41 Baltimore St., Gettysburg, Pa. The improvements to our Studio have proven a perfect success and we are now better prepared than ever to give you satisfactory work. THESE FIRMS ARE O. K. PATRONIZE THEM. E. H. FORREST m Beef, Veal, Pork, Lamb. Special rates to Clubs. 4» 185CM902 4» Our Name has stood as a guarantee of Quality for over half a Century JEWELtEH AND SIIiVE^SJVIITH 214 and 216 Market St., - . Harrisburg, Pa Latest Designs Prices Reasonable Chas. S. Mumper. ^^ FURNITRUE Picture Frames of all sorts Repair work done promptly t&~l will also buy or exchange any second-hand furniture. 4 Chambersburg St., - - - GETTYSBURG, PA. For a nice sweet loaf of Bread call on bJ. RAMER Baker of Bread, and. Fancy Cakes GETTYSBURG, FJOL

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Open Access#1001978

Review for Religious - Issue 37.5 (September 1978)

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

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Open Access#1011997

Review for Religious - Issue 56.1 (January/February 1997)

Issue 56.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1997. ; for relig i ou s Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1997 ¯ VOLUME 56 ¯ NUMBER 1 lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the joumml are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Lonis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: I:OPI~ EMA@SLUVCA.SI~U. E DU Manuscripts, books for review, aud correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDouough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ° Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional ,nailing offices. See inside back cover for iuformation on subscription rates. ©1997 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy an), material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal t, se of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear uotice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will o,aly be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisoty Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages.and Contemporary Living JA~NUARY-FEBRUARY 1997 ¯ VOLUME 56 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents living the consecrated life ~ 6 The Ambiguity of Religious Life: Does It Evolve? Nadine Foley OP highlights the living tradition of consecrated life evidenced in the phrase "consecration for mission" and its development in Vita consecrata. The Vatican II Generation and Religious Life Brian J. Pierce oP comments on his post-Vatican II experience of contemplative spirituality, community living and sharing, and ministry among the poor. Of Those Who Leave Us: A Typology Edward van Merrienboer OP describes five types of members seeking permission to leave and the behaviors that led to their petitions. growing as christians 37 Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing Hilary Ot~ensmeyer OSB proposes a dynamic based on the framework of the four seasons for Christian groups to reach new levels of sharing. Inner Work with You~ Anger 'Paul Duckro, Marjorie Kukor, and Jean Meier CSJ present the potential of a contemplative or meditational encounter with anger, so linking the psychological and spiritual aspects of healing. On Letting Go Denise M. Callaghan SSND reflects on the pervasiveness of a "letting go" in the continuing call of God to us as individuals and as a community. Review for Religious 59 loving as celibates Nuptial Love and Discerning Celibacy's Call Daniel J. Trapp examines the specific call to celibacy as a spousal response to Christ's love. Consecrated Celibacy as Means, Peril, and Delight Melannie Svoboda SND describes a few aspects of the religious experience of consecrated celibacy which is rooted in the unfathomable mystery of God's radical-mad love. 72 finding God Mystical Moments in Daily Life Matthias Neuman OSB calls attention to the mystical moments that reveal a transcendent mysteriousness and often a holy . presence which are a part of our ordinary faith experience. Silence Donald Macdonald SMM points the ways in which silence helps us perceive the priceless gift of a Spirit-filled world. Jesus, Power, and the ONE Edmundo Rodriguez SJ presents a way of understanding how action on behalf of justice is sanctioned by the life and teaching of Jesus. departments Prisms ~.,~ /~o ~ ~-,~, ~-Jf~o,o- Canonical Counsel: Diocesan Institutes and Pontifical Institutes Book Reviews January-February 1997 prisms Jesus is the focus of this year's celebra-tions preparatory to the coming third millennium. In John Paul's apostolic letter "As the Third Millennium Draws Near," the thematic structure of the three-year period 1997- 1999 is Trinitarian. Since the distinctly Christological char-acter of the jubilee is a primary emphasis, the first year, 1997, is devoted to "reflection on Christ, the Word of God, made man by the power of the Holy Spirit" (40). National conferences of bishops, local dioceses and individual parishes, religious congregational provinces, and other church organizations have proposed various ways of entering into this reflection on Christ: Some helpful study aids, reflection guides, and discussion outlines are available. Programs and conferences, gatherings among various Christian churches, and especially prayer services are planned throughout .the year. We all are called to become a part of this movement-- like a three-year-long Advent preparation--to celebrate our Christian jubilee. The challenge for each of us is accept-ing our responsibility "to know Christ Jesus" and acting on it. Knowing Jesus was a constant theme of St. Paul's writ-ings to the young churches. It is the theme reemphasized in our preparation for celebrating the millennium. How do we come to know Jesus? Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John each give us a way of knowing Jesus. Every Gospel account became a composite reflection of the stories told about Jesus within an evange-list's particular community. Details and settings of the same stories differ from Gospel account to Gospel account, and it does not matter. Each way of telling the story is true in its Review for Religious ability to give us an entrance into knowing Jesus. At one moment in our lives, through the Gospel of Mark we may find ourselves impressed by the immediate sense of Jesus' activism, the uncluttered quality of his speech, the directness of his affective response. At another time we appreciate the Jesus of Luke's Gospel, who appears so much the person of prayer, compassion, and lively joy. Sometimes the longer wisdom stories of John's Gospel and the image-identity language of being bread, life, light, vine, shepherd, gate, or para-clete call us to pe~r deep into our well of meditation. Over and over as we move through the Gospels, we find ourselves always com-ing to know Jesus~ Perhaps, taking our cue from St. Paul, we might discover anew the insight especially applicable to our millennium preparation. Necessary and helpful as the Gospel accounts are for our knowing Jesus, only in entering into our own experience will we find the Jesus who calls us by name, knocks at the door of our heart, and persists in bringing about the fullness of the reign ofGod. St. Paul was marked forever by his experience of One saying to him, "It is Jesus of Nazareth whom you are persecuting." For Paul there was no confusion of James and Joseph and Julia and Claudia with Jesus. But Paul realized that, in his dealings with James and Joseph and Julia and Claudia, he was also dealing with Jesus and coming to know him more, Paul came to know Jesus the more he preached and the. more he worked with all the people in his churches and the more he prayed. What Paul focuses for each of us is the Jesus in front of us, the Jesus whose coming we await by the way we live and minis-ter now. Jesus in his total gift of living and dying and Jesus in his sure promise of coming is always being made present to us in the Eucharist and so in his Body, the church. We experience Jesus. Experiencing Jesus is more than studying Christology or gospel reading. Experiencing Jesus is more than serving a, soup line or demonstrating for peace. Experiencing Jesus is knowing Jesus in the way that Paul exhorts his churches to know Jesus and to let themselves be seen as models of imitation because of that knowl-edge. The demand for people who know Jesus in this way has never been so clearly expressed as it is in the pope's apostolic letter. In John's Gospel, the story is told of some Greeks who came forward to Philip, making the request "We want to see Jesus." How will we, with the question coming both from within us and from with-out, respond this year to that request? David L. Fleming SJ ~anuary-FebtwaO, 1997 living the consecrated life NADINE FOLEY The Ambiguity of Religious Life: Does It Evolve? A number of years ago, in one of those seemingly endless discussions about the character of religious life that flour-ished among women religious after Vatican Council II, I remember making a reference to the evolution of reli-gious life. Within my hearing a canonist vehemently snapped out an objection. "Her response startled me; I could not see a reason for her agitated insistence. Was it the word evolution? The word seemed appropriate to me as a member of a religious congregation of women whose founders, responding to needs of the mid-1800s, emerged from their cloistered life in Regensburg, Germany, and ,.met the challenges of ministry in their new home in America. The move was not merely geographical. It entailed considerable adaptation of their lifestyle, their sense of mission, and ultimately their self-identity as a religious congregation of women. Their revered daily reg-imen of discipline and prayer as Second Order Dominican nuns was not immediately adaptable to what they were to undertake in a new and strange world. In due time they made the wrenching decision to become conventual Third Order Dominicans, an available alternative within Dominican structures. Was this development some kind of evolution? Nadine Foley OP, a former president of the Leadership Council of Women Religious (LCWR), is professor of religious studies at Siena Heights College and is historian for the Adrian Dominican Sisters. She can be addressed at 1257 East Siena Heights Drive; Adrian, Michigan 49221. Review for Religious Other institutes of women religious, founded directly for active apostolic or ministerial life, came sooner or later to share much similarity with active institutes such as mine that have their ¯ historical roots in the cloistered contemplative life. For both of these groups, there were expectations of meeting the obligations that had pertained to contemplative life: separation from the world, limited contact with the laity, conformity in dress and often in demeanor, a set horarium of prayer and liturgical observance, and disciplinary practices of silence, self-abnegation, and obedi-ence. Many of these were unique to women religious and not shared by their male counterparts. But changes were occurring in women's religious life without the appropriate "infrastructure" to support it. Modifications were made--dropping night vigils and prayers, from the daily horarium, omitting face veils from the prescribed dress, and the like--but tensions often existed, whether acknowledged or not. The model for the religious life of women remained that of the enclosure. The 1917 Code of Canon Law, welcome in many respects, more or :less fixed the ambiguity canonically in the sense that its architects--and, no doubt, members of religious institutes as well--did not have a clear perception that something new was emerging in religious life and might require a new look at the canonical legislation. In the 1930s and 1940s religious congrega-tions hastened .to write new constitutions in conformity with the Code while at the same time many made formal application for the status of pontifical institute. The all-consuming preoccupation for women religious (and many men religious as well) was with developing the entire spectrum of Catholic education and health-care to meet the needs of a burgeoning Catholic population. The effort required education of the members in all of the relevant fields of specialization to meet the standards of accrediting agen-cies. Meanwhile, imperceptible to the outside observer and even to many within religious life, a ferment of dissatisfaction and dis-affection was gradually spreading. The competencies developed by religious in the many secular fields required for their professional ministries had the additional effect of providing them with criti-cal tools of analysis that they began to apply to their own per-sonal development and their social organization as religious institutes. Then came Vatican Council II. By this time the institutes of women's religious life were ready for the directives from Rome ffanuary-Febrttaty 1997 that followed it: Hold a general chapter of renewal within three years, consult all the members in preparation, and enter into a period of experimentation where it seems advisable. A further communication, directing the institutes to write new constitu-tions and statutes, called for a thorough review of the original inspirations of the founders. No one could have predicted the impact of what followed, particularly when the institutes devel-oped internal processes for consulting all the members. Their reflections and consultations brought to the fore a wealth of expe-rience that hitherto had not been factored into general-chapter decisions about the congregations' agendas. The questions and the solutions were wide ranging and radical in the very good sense of reaching to the roots of religious life and its very identity. Reexamining origins and reflection upon a century and a half of experience in ministry were critical in formulating new con-stitutions. The documents produced were perhaps the first to reflect the character of women's active, or ministerial, ~eligious life. Mining the rich tradition~ in the original inspirations of reli-gious institutes led to a breadth in understanding ministry, not so much as specific works, but as response to the needs of people in our times. 'But a parallel effort was in progress at the same time: the reform of the Code of Canon Law. While religious worldwide submitted data for the section on religious life, their work on constitutions proceeded without benefit of knowing how the canonical revisions were progressing. In the final analysis, while some strides were made, religious were unable to find in the revised canons support for some of the new approaches--to traditional values of governance, community, ministry, the vows-- that had already been duly incorporated into their constitutions and statutes. As one who participated in the process of gaining approval of new constitutions through conversations with members of the Vatican Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL, a recent name change that requires its own exegesis), I had a privileged vantage point from which to examine the notion that religious life does not evolve. While processes had been devised whereby entire congregations participated in developing new constitutions (documents that for the first time accurately reflect our sense of identity as ministerial congregations of women religious), it became quite clear that we were expected ,to fit into a Procrustean bed of fixed categories. Review for Religious The suggestion, once heard, that we could save ourselves a lot of trouble if we just settled upon calling ourselves "secular insti-tutes" epitomized the problem. We did not fit many canonical expectations of "consecrated life," but at the same time we found no comfort in being labeled secular institutes. ("Institutes of apos-tolic life," founded specifically for traditional "missionary" activ-ity in "foreign" lands, continues to be a unique category.) It is against this background that I read the postsynodal apos-tolic exhortation Vita consecrata. Many things can be said about this document, some positive and some nega-tive. (I will not dwell here on the persis-tence of noninclusive language.) But I take encouragement in the inference I draw from it that there is basis here for the idea that religious life can in fact evolve--or at leastodevelop, if that is a more acceptable word. I draw this conclusion as I move from chapter 2 to chapter 3 and find a distinct theological shift from a transcendent view of religioils life to what I will call an incar-national one. The shift is particularly evi-dent in the treatment of consecration, no longer wholly identified with the vows, but associated with mission in the phrase "con-secration for mission." While the theological reorientation is not consistent throughout, the theme is pervasive enough to be noted as a significant change. Two themes that are present throughout 'the exhortation are consecration and eschatology. The manner of their treatment illus-trates, the shifting theology. In chapter 1 the organizing biblical text is Matthew's account of the transfiguration, described as "a decisive moment in the ministry of Jesus" (§ 15, italics in the original here and elsewhere). While the document presents this experi-ence of Peter, James, and John as constantly relived by the whole church, a people on its way to the eschatological encounter with its Lord, it has particular meaning for those called to the conse-crated life. For, we read, Peter's words "Lord, how good it is to be here! . eloquently express the radical nature of the vocation to the consecrated life." The. ecstasy and the mystery of the trans-figuration lead to the evangelical counsels as "a specific acceptance of the mystery of Christ, lived within the Church" (§16). Thus reli- Reexamining origins and reflection upon a century and a half of experience in ministry were critical in formulating new constitutions. Januaty-February 1997 gious consecration is linked to the eschatological realization of the reign of God to come. Applying this interpretation to the three basic vocations within the church, the text reads: "The laity, by virtue of the secular character of their vocation, reflect the mystery of the Incarnate Word particularly insofar as he is the Alpha and the Omega of the world, the foundation and measure of the value of all created things. Sacred ministers, for their part, are 'living images of Christ the Head and Shepherd who guides his people during this time of 'already and not yet,' as they await his coming in glory. It is the duty of the consecrated life to show that the Incarnate Son of God is the eschatological goal towards which all things tend, the splendor before which every other light pales, and the infinite beauty which alone can fully satisfy the human heart" (§16). The three vocations here do not reflect the division of the church into episcopacy, clergy, and laity found in Vatican II's Lumen gentium, an outline that, by including nonclerical religious only invisibly among the laity, seems to drop them from the church (see LG §§31 and 43). While harking back to the "objective superiority of the conse-crated life" (§§18 and 32), a notion seemingly abandoned after Vatican II, chapter 1 acknowledges that religious life, in addition to its eschatological witness, is also "a particularly profound and fruitful way of sharing in Christ's mission, in imitation of the exam-ple of Mary of Nazareth, the first disciple" (§18). The "sacred bond of chastity for the sake of the kingdom of God" is singled out as the first and essential evangelical counsel. A further expansion to all the church's members' manifesting the one mystery of Christ is contained in the statement (here retranslated from the Latin) that, "as their specific but not exclusive characteristics, the lay faithful have activity in the world, the clergy have ministry, and consecrated men and women have special conformity to Christ chaste, poor, and obedient.''l This assertion occurs in the discus-sion of baptism and confirmation's conferral of a consecration that is common to all members of the people of God (§31). Erroneously but understandably, "ministry" in the official English translation of this sentence is sometimes taken to be the exclusive responsibility of the clergy, and special conformity to Christ in chastity, poverty, and obedience an exclusive character-istic of consecrated men and women. The qualifier "but not exclu-sively" seems to be attached only to the specific characteristic of the laity ("activity in the world") when in fact it pertains to the Review for Religious specific characteristics of the other two groups as well. Just as the laity and the clergy are not to repudiate the importance of their own "conformity to Christ chaste, poor, and obedient," neither priests nor (at least during the last several hundred years) women and men religious have been excluded from activity "in the world" along.with the laity. This is "missionary" activity, understood in the fundamental sense of their having been baptized into mission. It is just possible that collectively reli-gious have been quite as involved in ministry in the world as the laity have been, and no doubt proportionately more so until the recent past. Further reflection upon these three distinct-- but also overlapping (officially in this document and manifestly in historical praxis)--categories of baptized people seems to suggest that such separation of roles among the people of God no longer serves, If all the people of God are baptized into mission, and bear a responsibility for it, saving the term ministry exclusively for bishops and priests would scarcely be helpful. The term is today widely applied to many kinds of ser-vice as forms of diakonia, an essential component of mission, along with kerygma and koinonia--preaching and community. Perhaps in this connection we could profit from an expanded exploration of the meaning of the priesthood of all of the faithful. In various ways it is being exercised, but without the kind of theological reflec~ tion that would help us understand who we are as a total priestly people of God addressing the many aberrations in faith and morals that surround us in our global society today~ For many of us the subhead "Consecrated for mission" that appears at the beginning of chapter 3 leaps off the page as a sign of theological breakthrough. It encapsulates the case that I tried to"make for this concept in.my 1989. LCWR presidential address (see Origins 19, no. 13 [31 August 1989]: 209-214). At that time the idea abroad here and there that some r.eligious had opted for consecration and others for mission seemed dangerously divisive. The dichotomy became a defining issue for reflecting upon who and what women religious uniquely had become. We were and If all the people of God are baptized into mission, and bear a responsibility for it, saving the term ministry exclusively for bishops and priests would scarcely be helpful. Janltary-Febrvtmy 1997 are present in the world not merely as a kind of ethereal escha-tological "sign" of the kingdom to come--by reason of the vows we profess, that particular consecration of ours. Rather, we were and are present also as ministerial workers actively advancing the good of people and, thereby, the reign of justice and peace. In this way, too, we are a striking sign of the reign of God--by rea-son of our dedication to the mission of Jesus, consecration in that sense as well. Indeed, as the exhortation at this point says, "The task of devoting themselves wholly to 'mission' is ~,. included in their call . A sense of mission is essential to .every institute, not only those dedicated to the active apostolic life, but also those dedicated to the contemplative life" (§72). In support of this, Luke 4:16~ 19 is cited to emphasize that the Spirit has consecrated Jesus to bring good news to the poor, to captives, to the blind (§82). Consecration for mission places the vows in a new context and suggests that they testify to the evangelical counsels' "profound anthropological significance" (§87). Chastity is presented as a response to "a hedonistic culture which separates sexuality from all objective moral norms, often treating it as a mere diversion and a consumer good and, with the complicity of the means of social communication, justifying a kind of idolatry of the sexual instinct" (§88). Poverty is related to "a materialism which craves possessions, heedless of the needs and sufferings of the weakest, and lacking any concern for the balance of natural resources" (§89). And obe, dience is a response to "those notions of freedom which separate this fundamental human good from its essential relationship to the truth and to moral norms. In effect, the promotion of freedom is a genuine value, closely connected with respect for the human person, But who does not see the aberrant consequences of injus-tice and even violence, in th( life of individuals and of peoples, to which the distorted use of freedom leads?" (§91). These ideas on the vows, incarnational in my view, are more compatible with our experience than the idealized and "transcendental" notions pre-sented in the earlier sections of the document. They are consonant with the serious study we have done on Gaudium et spes and with the implications we have drawn for our identity in mission and the ministries we have undertaken to further the reign of God. These interpretations are welcome in expressing a realistic understand-ing of the vows, one with which we can identify. Whether or not~ religious life evolves is in the end not that sig-nificant a question. What really is at issue is whether or not the Review for Religious church--and the religious life within it--has a living tradition, one that adapts and grows and grafts new things into its old self, for the sake of gospel mission. The experience of women reli-gious over the years reveals that there is a dynamic interior prin-ciple among us that challenges, motivates, energizes, and adapts in our ongoing history. The traditional values of religious life are not cast aside; they are evaluated in new contexts, reinterpreted and reformulated for our mission in the contemporary world. Our communal discernment in these recent years convinces us that this interior principle is the Holy Spirit, to whom we must be faithful. Thus, Vita conseo'ata, Pope John Paul's postsynodal exhor-tation "on the consecrated life and its mission," strikes us as an affirmation of a movement of the Spirit of God that we have rec-ognized in our experience and articulated in our theological reflec-tion. We are happy to find this movement acknowledged in this exhortation. Note i "Licet varia haec genera unum Christi mysterium demonstrent, pro-prietatem peculiarem quamvis non unicam laici prae se ferunt, saecular-itatem nempe, pastores ministeriorum curationem, homines consecrati peculiarem cum Christo virgine paupere oboediente conformationem" (AAS 88, no. 5 [13 May 1996]: 405, §31). Our Lady of the Gifts Bewildered by the gifts: they bring Her son--such treasurest. and still listening For more nightsongs strange spirits sing, Her human love thrusts these apart As not fully human; let him start With just one gift; pressed to her breast For all she has to give: her human heart. Nancy G. Westerfield Janua~y-Februmy 1997 BRIAN PIERCE The Vatican II Generation and Religious Life lhad just celebrated my second birthday when John XXIII _~-went over to a dusty, closed window, threw it open with a smile, and invited the windy spirit of Vatican Council II in to freshen things up a bit. Needless to say, I do not recall the excite-ment of that time. Nor do I remember where I was when the news broke that John F. Kennedy had been shot. Only three at the time, I was probably building a fort in a sandbox somewhere-- totally oblivious to the tears and shock that swept the nation and the world, sending my mother into early labor. I do not even remember my little brother's birth the next morning. My preparation for first Communion was with a group of guitar-playing sisters who taught us a revised version of the Act of Contrition (I never did learn the "0 my God, I am heartily sorry" version that my older brother learned). They taught us, too, thaf it was okay to chew the Communion host before swal-lowing it, something my brother had distinctly been told not to do. To top it all off, none of my philosophy or theology classes as a Dominican were in Latin, and so, every time an older Dominican tosses out a Latin phrase during a dinner conversation, We younger men just roll our eyes and pretend to know what he is saying. Coming from that background, I can honestly say that I love the church and am committed to continue the journey as a Brian J. Pierce oP is a member of a Dominican community whose activ-ity includes lay ministry formation, university ministry, and pastoral accompaniment of persons with AIDS. His address is Frailes Dominicos; Apartado 2608, San Pedro Sula; Honduras, Central America. Review for Religious believer, a disciple of Jesus, and a preacher in the family of St. Dominic. I often get the feeling, though, that some of those who grew up in the pre-Vatican church look at us of the postconciliar generation as second-class Catholics: "Nobody can call himself a real Catholic if he's never attended a forty-hours' devotion," said one of those faithful daily-Mass folks to me one morning. I swallowed and smiled, not daring to confess to him that the young priest who had just "said Holy Mass" was one of those question-able "pseudo-Catholics." A sense of humor and some patient understanding help in those situations in which the distances between the generations seem irreconcilable. Religious Life and Spiritual Development In his recent book Further along the Road Less Traveled, M. Scott Peck, noted psychiatrist and spiritual guide, has capsulized in simple language the stages of spiritual development that James Fowler and others had mapped out earlier. Peck speaks of four stages: (1) chaotic-antisocial, (2) formal-institutional, (3) skeptic-individual, and (4) mystical-communal. My intention here is not to give an overview of the stages, but instead to comment on my own experience as a religious withi'n the post-Vatican church in light of Peck's categories. I realize that to make sweeping generalizations about faith development, especially on an institutional level, is both preten-tious and dangerous. I do so only as a way of situating us within the present moment so that we can more readily hear the Spirit calling us to growth. All ages of church history have had persons and communities representing each of the four stages. I think, though, that i( is safe to say that the pre-Vatidan church and reli-gious life had become somewhat bogged down in the legalistic uniformity of Peck's stage 2 (formal-institutional). Vatican II opened up the windows and doors of dialogue, both within the church and with the world. This dialogue marked the social and ecclesial environment in which my generation of religious grew up. In our childhood years Catholic liturgy was being transformed (causing its share of confusion, I later learned), and we began singing such hits as "Sons of God, hear his holy word" (inclusive language being still in an embryonic stagg). Renewal brought many new apostolic groups and movements, and there was an Janua~y-Febm,ary 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life overall air of dialogue and experimentation, especially in religious life. Uniformity was out, and modified habits and consensus deci-sion making were coming in. Vatican II's fresh breeze opened up the possibility for many persons and religious communities to move into skeptic-individ-ual faith development, Peck's stage 3. Peck says that, even though this stage is outwardly less "religious," it is in fact more "spiritual.". It is the stage of healthy questioning, conscientious dissent, and the blending of psychology and spirituality. In many ways those first years manifested themselves as an overreaction to the for-malities and legalisms of years past. In a positive sense it was a time of much dialogue and growth. My generation was still too young to be involved in 'the dialogue, but our early religious edu-cation took place in that environment. I remember the lay couple who taught our confirmation class in the early 1970s stressing that for us to be mature Christians we had to learn to make moral decisions with gospel responsibility. A far cry from the Baltimore Catechism of our parents' generation! Now we are in the 1990s and rapidly approaching the new millennium. Again, recognizing the frailty of making any kind of generalization, I think it safe to say that most of us raised in the postconciliar generation and most of the religious communities that went through renewal are still in Peck's stage 3. I do not mean that we have stopped growing or have become stagnant. Quite the contrary. In the American church in general and also among religious, a strong spirit of creative searching, is still preva-lent. At the same time, though, I think that very few religious communities have moved to what Scott Peck calls the mystical-community level. This may be quite natural, given the fact that Vatican II happened only thirty years ago, but my hope is that our generation may have something to offer here. Those of us who were formed in stage-3 parishes and reli-gious communities, complete with guitar Masses and face-to-face "celebrations of reconciliation," never went through the painful birthing process that gave way to the renewal of Vatican II. We are grateful to those who have gifted us with this rich inheritance-- a more mature and liberating life of faith within the community of believers. In many ways we had it easy, and perhaps it is now our .turn to lead the way through the desert. Many of my friends (ages twenty to forty) have left the church for a variety of reasons. Some have gone back to stage-2 Review for Religious Catholicism (usually lured there by disgruntled elders) or have found security in fundamentalist Christian groups. Reactionary Catholic religious congregations and movements and Bible-thumping evangelical churches (sometimes even with a shiny, high-tech faFade) are on the rise. Others of my friends--some of whom experimented with drugs--are trying to get to stage 4 by New Age pseudomysticism. Many young people today have a thirst for religious and mystical experience, and not all of them seek just a quick fix. The large num-ber of young adults (many ex-Catholics) adhering to the rigorous disciplines of Eastern meditation practices is an impor-tant phenomenon of our day. Our gener-ation is willing to sacrifice if we believe it is worthwhile (that is, no blind obedience, please). What, then, is this new journey that calls out to us today? If Our religious com-munities are not opening up the path to a deeper mystical and communal level of faith (Peck's stage 4), how can we respond in creative ways to bring about the needed growth? I am no expert on either faith development or postcon-ciliar religious renewal, nor do I propose to speak on behalf of all the Vatican II'generation. I simply speak out of my fourteen years of experience, prayerful struggle, and reflection as a Dominican. We have been hearing for several years now that religious life is in crisis, and I basically agree with that reading of the signs of the times. Crisis, however, does not have to mean something bad, a negative experience. Crisis can mean growth, a time for matur-ing, Just as past generations of Catholic religious strove to pro-duce new forms of religious life, so must we do today. This is no time to give up or go backward. We have received a generous and precious inheritance indeed, but the "not yet" of God's reign still burns within us: Now it is our generation's time and task to carry the torch. I am aware that much is being written about the renewal and refounding of religious life these days, and in no way do I intend a comprehensive overview of the issues at'stake. I will look at three main topics (contemplative spirituality, community living and sharing, and ministry among the poor) while attempting to We have received a generous and precious inheritance indeed, but "not yet" of God's reign still burns within us. I7- Januao,-Feb~waO, 1997 Pierce * The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life reflect on them from the perspective of us who were raised beneath the cool shade of Vatican II. Contemplative, Prayerful Living My mother, whbm I consider to be a fairly open and renewed Catholic, still pulls a tattered Stations of the Cross prayer book out of her purse to reflect on before Mass or after Communion. In other words, she still holds on to and receives life from the meditative and devotional practices common before Vatican II. That kind of prayer-book piety does not fill my spiritual needs, but neither does the "my ministry is my prayer" pastoral workaholism that apparently has taken its place, especially among us younger religious. It seems to me that we went from saying prayers (Peck's stage 2) to not saying prayers (stage.3 skepticism) and somewhere along the way began to lose sight of the plain, simple art of just praying. For many of us, the charismatic renewal, with its focus on prayer rather than saying prayers, offered a stepping-stone in our spiritual development, but the emotionalism and fundamental:- ism in the movement caused many to look elsewhere. I am con, vinced now more than ever, after five years of living among the destitute poor of Central America, that being a follower of Jesus necessitates a deep commitment to prayer--and prayer requires time, energy, and creativity. Without a very intentional spiritual life, we run the risk of doing many good things on an ego~ trip rather than out of gospel-based selfless love. As I grow in prayer-ful communion with God, I discover that my loving others is freer, less needy, more liberating. In the past several years, there has been a growing interest in contemplative and centering prayer throughout the country. This is a wonderfully hopeful sign, and in many places it is the laity who are taking the lead in this kind of prayer. It saddens me that I have lived in or visited religious communities where com-mon prayer is either nonexistent (stage-3 individualism, at best) or simply "reciting the breviary" (stage-2 formalism). In order to grow into a communal, stage-4 level of faith, we must learn once again what it means to really pray together. I occasionally spend my annual retreat with a small commu-nity of Benedictine women in Oklahoma. These women gather three times a day for contemplative, sitting meditation, a blend of Review for gelig4ous Catholic contemplative prayer and Eastern meditation practices. The shared silence has been a gift beyond measure for me. In my years of formation, we were enc.ouraged to give time each day to personal or "private" prayer--can Christian prayer ever be "pri-vate"?-- but because of the previous generations' experience of having to spend a half hour together each morning in the chapel for "meditation," we rarely shared silence as a form of prayer. It seems to me that in our day and age, with all its diversity and respect of the individual, we could profit immensely from a kind of shared prayer of silence. Silence binds together and bridges gaps in ways that words sometimes cannot. The liturgical reforms brought in by Vatican II .helped to bring our com-mon prayer back into the real world, but I believe that in many ways our common prayer has become just one more task to complete in the day's busy schedule and thus something that many find uninteresting. Introducing some shared silence into our common prayer can be a way of celebrating sacred time together in a "non-doing" manner. Prayer as a,task to be completed increases the workaholism of the many religious and lay Christians brought up on "do good to your neighbor" faith renewal after Vatican II. Not that we should reverse the renewal, for the recovery of the social-justice dimen-sion of our faith has been one of Vatican II's greatest gifts to the church; but are we perhaps only following our culture's insatiable drive for success and efficiency when we burn ourselves out as gospel do-gooders? A deep spirituality.that combines contem-plative prayer and Sabbath rest not only promotes gospel values, but challenges our consumerist society as well. The renewal of the contemplative dimension of our religious life consequently brings into question the professionalization of our ministerial commitments. I think that the emphasis on solid formation in theology, Scripture, and the social sciences that has come as a result of Vatican II is to be highly lauded, especially for women religious, for whom such opportunities were rare in the preconciliar years. To my mind, this move toward professional- In our day and age, with all its diversity and respect of the individual, we cof~Id profit immensely from a kind of shared prayer of silence. ~anua~y-February 1997 Pierce * The Vatican II G, eneration and Rdi~_ous Life ization, though, has taken away much of the evangelical freedom that marked the early years of our foundations. As professionals we have had to buy into the world of competitive salaries, con-trolled work schedules, tenure-track professorships, and the over-all efficiency mind-set that characterizes the corporate and professional marketplace. Can we honestly cultivate the deeply contemplative prayer life that we entered religious life desiring while yielding too much to that system? Without losing sight of the need to be justly compensated for our ministry, have we not given up some of the freedom to "be with and for God" by trad-ing in our vow of poverty for the corporate model of church life? Have we fallen into'a minimalisrunderstanding of Sabbath (noth-ing more than Sunday Mass) because of the demands of ministry? At a recent day-long conference on Dorothy Day and Thomas Merton--given by Jim Forrest, who knew them both--someone asked what his strongest memory of Dorothy Day was. Jim answered quickly and with no hesitation: "When I think of Dorothy, I think of her on her knees praying. She spent a lot of time in prayer." Imagine that! This dedicated social-justice apos-tle of the United States is remembered as a woman on her knees praying, and for long periods at a time. Stage 4's mystical dimen-sion cannot be integrated into our lives if prayer is just another point on the "things to do" list for the day (after clocking out from work at the social-service agency, of course). Our commu-nal and contemplative prayer must be leaven in the dough of our daily lives. For, when our prayer truly becomes prayer, then our ministry and our lives as a whole will also become prayer. Real Community vs. Corporate Individualism We know it. We say it. We preach it. We write books about it. But do we live it? Do we live real community? The early Christian communities were not sacramental fast-food outlets, nor were they the early predecessor to Motel 6 (key, clean bed, cable TV,, free breakfast, cheap rates). They were brothers and sisters who had made a commitment to each other and to fol-lowing in the footsteps of Jesus of Nazareth. They lived, shared their goods, worshiped, and died with and for one another and the gospel. The beatitudes were their daily bread, and they knew that being a disciple of J.esus was to be their everything, their cross and their deep joy. Jesus was the way, the path by which the com- Review for Religious munity of believers would walk together towards the promised reign of God. Does this sound a bit idealistic? Well, the picture which the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles paint for us probably is a somewhat idealized version of reality. But let us not forget that these pictures appear in our Scriptures precisely because they were the goal towards which the early communities strove. Many ist-century Christians gave their lives to make this dream of com-munal gospel testimony a lived reality. Today we have the same struggles, difficulties, and weaknesses as the early Christians. But can we also claim to share the same goal of offering the world a living witness of the Body of Christ? I think that women and men religious provide coundess exam-ples of Christian witness, but I also think that the communal dimension of gospel living--and consequently of religious life-- has suffered great setbacks since Vatican II. We give ourselves to excellent and creative ministries, but more and more we do them alone. Everyone in the community has a project, and all the pro-jects are nicely organized under a fancy mission statement. We have all made use of the Myers-Briggs and the enneagram to facil-itate our once-a-month interface gatherings (which used to be called community meetings!), but does the world feel the force of our communal witness to the gospel of Christ? In my own Dominican tradition, the example of the first fri-ars in the Americas stands out strongly: a small band of Spaniards on the island of Hispaniola in the early 16th century. Needing to make a response to the atrocities of the conquest and oppression of the island's native inhabitants, and convinced that the atrocities were not the will of God, the community broke with the dominant theology of the day and preached that the Spanish conquerors were living in mortal sin because of their unjust treatment of the Indians. They all signed the community's homily that was preached by Antonio de Montesino, and, as expected, their words brought upon themselves a tidal wave of reactions, one of which was a harsh reprimand from their provincial back in Spain. Listening to the homily that day was young Bartolom~ de las Casas, who years later became the continent's most important defender of the cause of Indian rights. The question that blaringly stands out is whether or not the same words from a single Dominican friar on the island would have had the same dynamic effect on the history of Latin America that the community witness had. I think not. .']anuaty-FebruaD, 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life Today's church has become so individualistic in its focus that one wonders if there is still room for a prophetic witness in com-mon. The "something for everyone" mentality has worked its way into every part of chursh life in our country. Many of our parishes look more like the food malls where thirty or so minirestaurants are squeezed in between J.C. Penney's and Florsheim Shoes. We have become pastoral experts in creating a program for every-one, in itself not a bad outreach mentality; but the lack of focus is something we have to look at seriously. What is the message we are giving about the gospel? How can we celebrate the gains brought on by the council, with its renewal of lay participation in church life, without dispersing our witness in so many directions? I believe we need to step back and ask ourselves the tough ques-tion: Is corporate individualism the same as community? The question becomes even more urgent when we ask it from the point of view of publicly vowed religious life. Are we mir-roring the communal striving of the early Christian communi-ties or the strategic planning model of IBM? Brother David Steindl-Rast~OSB, in his book Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer, uses a wonderful image to describe community living. He com-pares the old model of pre-Vatican corporate uniformity (Peck's formal-institutional) to sardines all lined up in a can--nice and orderly, but all dead. Real community, he says, is more like a school of fish swimming together gracefully'(Peck's mystical-com-munal). I think that we threw away the sardine can in the 1960s and then, liberated and full of life, all swam off in different direc-tions (Peck's skeptic-individual). How can we get back to swim-ming together gracefully in a school without destroying our creativity or drowning our witness in watered-down corporatism? There certainly are no easy answers, but we know deep down the hunger for such a life. Young people want community. Many of the people my age and younger are tired of the broken fami-lies, broken relationships, and lonely apartment living that have characterized our generation. The thousands of young people who flock to Taiz~ each year in postmodern, de-Christianized Europe must be telling us something. The human heart longs for communion, and the world denies the fulfillment of that longing to more and more people everyday. Many religious women and men are choosing to live alone and work .in their own ministries, often identifying themselves professionally with a group that is not their religious community. Review for Religious We have come to accept this reality as quite normal, but will it continue to attract young people to a life of public, gospel-cen-tered, and vowed living? Real community is an urgent need for us who long to channel our creative energies in healthy ways in a world that sees little value in the commitment of celibate living. Will we find that companionship if we come home to an answer-ing machine full of messages or a "com-munity" room full of brothers or sisters inert before the TV set like the pillars at Stonehenge? Could Acts 2:42-47 give us some hints as to where to continue journeying along the path? References there to the teaching of the apostles, the common life, the breaking of the bread, and prayer point to a community that spent a lot of quality time together. Today we have many meetings run with corporate efficiency, but do we really spend time together (sharing the day's stories during a leisurely evening meal, faith sharing, studying the day's or the week's liturgy texts together, recreating or even taking a day off together--away from the phone and TV-)? The early Christian community's life had a tremendous impact on the local people (2:43). Does ours? Have we ever considered a ministry in which the whole community works as a team (for example, a series of lay formation workshops, time each week in a soup kitchen, regular visits to the AIDS wing of a hospital), giving witness to the value of community through our example? The passage goes on (2:44-45) to the difficult point of sim-ple living and common sharing of goods. It is an area of great challenge for us today. We have adopted the "have credit card, will travel" mentality of mainstream America, some of which, per-haps,, is inevitable. But are we taking these steps with sufficient reflection and caution? Are we willing to defend the truth even when it may not be a popular stance among some of our generous benefactors? Do we tithe from our salaries and communal accounts?.Where does our province or religious congregation invest its money? Do those investments promote social, economic, and ecological justice? Are we content with generic brands of food Many of the people my age and younger are tired of the broken families, broken relationships, and lonely apartment living that have characterized our generation. ffanuaty-February 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life and a simple wardrobe? Do we have a common library, or do we all keep adding personal bookshelves? There are many questions to struggle with, but gospel witness is well worth the struggle. The last two verses of the passage (2:46-47) speak of enthu-siasm, joy, and simple sharing. We glimpse an early community that freely praised God while giving a clear witness to an alter-native, counterculrural way of living. Freedom to be for God and for others was their common ground. They risked martyrdom in order to keep giving their communal witness to the gospel. Theirs is not an easy act to follow, but it sure beats a sardine-can existence or lonely nights at Motel 6. Acompafiamiento, a Way of Walking with the Poor A great gift of Vatican II and these past thirty years has been the church's openness to continuing the dialogue with the world that the council's document on the church, Lumen gentium, high-lighted. The Latin American Church followed up with the prophetic stances taken during the Medellin and Puebla confer-ences of bishops (1968 and 1979). In the United States the pastoral letters on peace and economic justice have been lights .on the path of relating gospel faith to pertinent issues in our world today. We must not underestimate the steps that have been taken since Vatican II. Having said all this, I wish to comment on where I see a weak-ness in our post-Vatican II model of engagement with the world's poor. Not that what is being done is wrong or contrary to the gospel, but in many instances there is, I think, a need to move to a deeper level. Archbishop Oscar Romero, the martyred prophet of El Salvador, popularized during his years as archbishop the term acompa~amiento (accompaniment), a form of walking with the poor that is different from just working with the poor. Acompa~amiento is a way of living more than a way of doing (though, of course, this division in itself is dualistic). Several years ago I heard the noted liberation theologian Gustavo Guti~rrez say that we often reduce the option for the poor to going to the poor neighborhoods and barrios, to the social-service centers and the inner-city schools to work during the day, only to return to our comfortable homes and convents at night. To truly opt for the poor, Guti~rrez said, means to spend the nights withthem as well. In other words, we are called not only Review for Religiotts to do good things for the poor, but to be with them, to walk with them, to live with them, and, if necessary, to die with them. Romero's acompa~amiento could be translated as "sharing bread along the journey." It is different from giving bread to the poor; it is a sharing of life that dissolves the distances that separate us from them. To opt for the poor through acompa~amiento moves beyond all dualisms to make more real the concepts of global commu-nity and people of God. The hospice movement, Habitat for Humanity, L'Arche, and Christian base communities are expres-sions of this new way of being church and community. Each model portrays a community of equals, living and working together for a new world. There is very little corporate mentality present in them. This was the power of Archbishop Romero's witness--an erasing of the distances: the sheep and the shepherd together risk-ing their lives for the kingdom. How can our communities continue to make the transition to more of an acompa~amiento model over the traditional "charity" model (I do not favor the impoverishment of the word charity in contexts like this). I believe that, first of all, we have to set aside the obsession with efficiency and success that our world impresses upon us and complement our doing with an equal emphasis on being with. It is not an easy step. Rather than sending money, clothes, and food to the poor, can we pray, eat, study, recreate, and even live with them? The challenge is at the heart of the Catholic Worker Movement founded by Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin decades ago, and it is the call heralded by St. Paul when he proclaimed that our baptism erases all the divisions between persons, making possible a true community of equals (Ga 3:28). Finally, and perhaps this takes us back to the start, I believe that to truly love the poor as .sisters and brothers requires a con-templative (mystical) heart. To develop the capacity to stand in silence alongside the poo~r and accept the ambiguities of life is to grow into the mystical dimension of our faith. We really are not separate from "the others," but only a contemplative heart can begin to grasp the interconnectedness that holds us all together. If we grow in such contemplativeness, our being with becomes less a heroic act of giving life to .somebody in need and more a happy fulfilling of our potential as children of God: we are uninhibitedly glad of the opportunity to see the kingdom that .Jesus preached radiating from our simple act of "sharing bread along the journey." Januao,-FeblvlaO, 1997 Pierce * The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life I recently learned this lesson anew. A group of university stu-dents and I were scheduled to visit the inmates at the local prison. The students, among whom was Diana, a young crippled woman, met at our house, about ten blocks from the prison. I quietly asked if one of the students would go with her on the bus while the rest of us walked to the prison. Overhearing my request, Diana told me politely that she preferred to walk. I would not hear of it. Angry that no one offered to go with her on the bus, I decided to do it myself. By that point Diana, perceiving herself a burden to ¯ the group, had grabbed her crutches and begun walking home. When she finally had the courage to return to the group two months later, she told me I had made her feel terribly uncom-fortable that day. I had wanted to do something~r Diana. She simply wanted to be part of the group. I had seen her as a problem rather than as a person. Without a heart made flesh by prayerful silence and careful listening, we run the risk--as we go about doing good works to save the world of forgetting that we too are just part of this world already saved by God's love. To step back, to see and lis-ten to God speaking to us through poor people, is not always the quickest, most efficient way to bring about change in the world, but it is God's way. Stepping back, we discover anew each day that we are all part of one body--crippled, broken, healed, and set free. Community and Grace Thirty years after Vatican II, we all still have much to learn. The gospel is new each day and in every generation. However much progress we may have made since, the council, we need some self-critique as we continue the journey. Many people my age are not attracted to a church that differs little from the trap-pings of their everyday job, and the skeptic individualism in reli-gious life does not stand out as an exciting alternative. They can live that way and get paid a pretty good salary for it! Religious life' among the Vatican II generation must continue to offer some kind of critique of the dominant culture if it is to be viable for our times. Some cultural criticism, however, neglects important parts of Jesus' teaching. The post-Vatican II generation of Catholics is nov looking for more moralistic condemnations of modernity. They want a life with deep meaning, a simple life Review for Religious they can share with real people (and not just through their Internet modems!), a life that can help to make our world a bet-ter place without making themselves workaholic basket cases in the process. I believe it is still possible to swim gracefully through the waters of our times, guided not by the uniformity of the past nor the runaway individualism of the present, but by the Spirit of Jesus given to us and quietly moving in us with transforming new-ness and amazing grace. Awakening Golden leaves rustle and swirl Beneath the silver birch tree As sunlight from crisp blue skies Comes to rest on the forest floor. And nature poised on winter's brink Does not die but falls asleep Until it one bright spring morn Awakens to song of birds and brook. How like our lonely restless souls When in their final slumber lie Until aroused one glorious dawn By sweet sounds of an angel's horn. Eva Marie Ippolito Janua~y-Fd.-uaty 1997 F EDWARD VAN MERRIENBOER Of Those Who Leave Us: A Typology Tpe contemporary leader of a religious community is ected to be a person of prayer, with a vision, who can manage finance and who knows the legal aspects of public cor-porate life. Although few people ever fulfill all of these expecta-tions, most leaders do very well at some of them while in office. Many leadership tasks give one a sense of joyful accomplishment; of those that fail to do so, none is more painful, in my experi-ence, than participating in the departure of a member. I was a member of my province's council from 1973 to 1983 and then, until 1992, a member of our general council in Rome. In both the provincial and international contexts, the pain was ever present when a petition for dispensation came in. Impressed by the unique story that each of the many petitions revealed, I began to ask myself what I could learn from them personally and corporately about departure. During my nine years on our general council, I kept a brief list of people's reasons for leaving. My purpose was to learn from these experiences how to help those in leadership. I wanted espe-cially to help the men working in our initial formation programs so that they in turn could help our candidates avoid such painful experiences for themselves and their communities in the future. I share these reflections in that spirit. Edward van Merrienboer OP chairs the Department of Theology and Philosophy at Barry University. From 1983 to 1992 he was assistant gen-eral for the apostolic life of the Dominican order. He has written on reli-gious life, social justice, and spirituality. He can be addressed at Barry University; 11300 Northeast Second Avenue; Miami Shores, Florida 33161. Review for Religious Collating the many stories, I found that about eighty percent of those who left our community from 1983 to 1992 could be gathered into five groups, no matter what part of the world they lived in. My findings, of course, are not scientific conclusions of the sort one expects from an empirical study using a sociological method. Rather, they are reflections made after reading petition after petition regarding departure decisions that had been arrived at by individuals and/or the provincial leadership. I did not speak with the men petitioning for dispensation, nor did I interview their provincial leadership for additional data. My typology is based on what they and their provincial superiors wrote in the petitions. Typologies are models that seldom fit reality perfectly: there is always some overlap among the types. But still the general pat-terns proved helpful when I was making visits to our provinces. These types, from what I have learned from previous members of our general council, represent a change. During the time of Pope Paul VI, most members departed°to enter marriage. Today this is still a reason, but other reason~ have become more dominant. I have shared my findings with members of other general councils. They have found my insights to be valid in their communities and have encouraged me to share them more widely. What follows is a brief description of the five types of mem-bers seeking permission to leave and of the behaviors that led to their petition: the free agents, the must-have-its, the new founders, the loss-of-hopes, and the I'm-better-nows. The Free Agents Most free-agent petitions came from those who entered at the time of the Second Vaticah Council or within ten years after it. My religious community, like most religious communities of that time, was emerging from an era of strict legalism and con-formity. While we never had a fixed mold to force people into, informal ideas of what religious were supposed to be and to do defined almost every aspect of our lives. Perfection would be achieved by going through a "narrow gate," the perfect mechanism for making sure that, of the many called, few would be chosen. After the council, all the rules of our life were examined and revised. Now a wide embrace would replace the narrow way that was so well defined. Pluralism was encouraged in ministry and in 29 January-Feblwal.'~ 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us local community life. Everyone was encouraged to participate in shaping our life and mission.For most of us this new freedom was a blessing because it allowed us to be ourselves and be faith-ful to our community at the same time. While limits were less defined, most religious knew that there were limits because of our vowed life. This was not the case with the members whom I am calling free agents. They enjoyed the new freedom and saw no limits. For some of them the freedom involved embracing works that were hard to locate within the mission of the institute or within the vowed life. Commonly they found ways to spend community funds while being little concerned about bringing in any money themselves or about the consequences of their expenditures on their community. Because finance is so concrete, much of the ten-sion between free agents and their community is about money. In extreme cases they establish private bank accounts or have funds that are not accountable to the community. Sizable funding is essential to them because it provides the means to express their freedom. Money provides the physical necessities they need to be free from the community's demand for responsible account-ability. Another area of conflict between free agents and their com-munity is their approach to relationships within and outside the community. Some of these relationships become exclusive com-mitments that involve genital expression. Self-direction in ministry becomes essential as part of their freedom agenda. Most are happy with the spirit of freedom that the council mandated; but, when "oppressive" superiors or members begin to challenge their lim-itless freedom, they became unhappy and start to question their vocation. They often say that they woul.d never have come to the point of seeking dispensation from their vows if it had not been for narrow-minded, or legalistic leaders. They do not see the problem of living a lifestyle that is contrary to their public commitment. Long and painful dialogues with their superiors do not enable them to see the points of conflict. Some express their anger at the community for trying to restrict the freedom given to them by the council. Many view the challenges coming to them from their community as statements of distrust. The decision to leave the community is a result of having to choose concretely between their agenda of freedom and certain Review for Relig~ous behaviors their community identifies as essential. It is tragic that often these members leave us without ever understanding that every life option imposes certain limits upon people, that in this regard religious life is no different than any other vocation. The Must-Have-Its Departing members of the second type seek dispensation within a very short time--usually three years or less--after their final profession or ordination. Judging from externals, one won-ders whether these members have really given religious life a fair chance. A common concern expressed by leadership is that these members may be acting in haste. The problems the mem-bers are experiencing could be rooted in the normal adjustment period from initial forma-tion to the wider life of the community. Because of the short time that these mem-bers have been in the community, unless there have been major difficulties previously, most religious superiors give only a very qualified support to their petitions for dispensation. This is understandable from an administrative per-spective, but I think there is an aspect of these members' personality that is perhaps being over-looked. It is this: They cannot come to a decision to leave the religious life or the priesthood until they actually possess these realities. Part of their personality demands that they prove to themselves that they can be a religious before they can decide that they do not want to be one. Some of this feeling is rooted in a need to be clear that they are rejecting the community and not being sent away. Very often I noted that, when during their initial formation they were asked as candidates to question their decision to be a religious, they responded by devoting themselves to becoming a better religious. Even when their simple vow period was extended so that they could look at their vocation, they never questioned their call to religious life. Some indicate that, almost from the day of their final pro-fession or ordination, they began to question if this was for them. They felt that before final profession they really .had not known While limits were less defined, most religious knew that there were limits because of our vowed life. Janua~y-Feb~vla~y 1997 Merrienboer ¯ Of Those Who Leave Us what it would be like; now they knew fully and were not happy. Others fully expected that after final commitment their experience of the life and ministry would change radically. It did not; in some ,cases it even became worse. They were given less attention and were expected to be fully contributing members of the commu-nity- which beEame a major source of frustration. Even in situations where a mentor was assigned to assist them in their adjustment to the postformation community life, there was little the community could do to change the attitude that, "now that I have what I set out to achieve, I noolonger want it." My reading of their autobiographies comes up with a pattern throughout their life of obtaining something, then setting it aside. Before entering the community, a high number of petitioners had obtained graduate degrees in unrelated fields and then never used this knowledge and experience. At the core of persons of this type is their inability to project their hopes into the future and make an assessment of their fitness for that vocation. Their experiences of initial formation do not enable them to make an educated guess about their ability to live religious life in the future. They only know what is present to them, and now that they have the life in its fullness they no longer want it for themselves. The New Founders Some people enter a religious community with the idea of reshaping it according to their own vision of religious life. Such an idea is in strange contrast to a community's centuries-long acceptance of its charism, but it is a fact that some people feel that their own image of religious life today takes priority over all that has come before it. One area into which such new-foundation efforts are brought is the community's mission. New founders would define this mis-sion as movement for social change or promotion of a different theological perspective. In countries where there has been a his-tory of repression in society, they see religious community as a resistance movement that offers its members prophetic opportu-nities. When the new founders promote involvement in social action, they become disappointed that not all the members feel called to participate. In more industrial countries the meaning of religious life, Review for Religious according to some new founders, is to protnote the women's movement or the gay movement. For others it is to become pro-tectors of traditional understandings of the faith. A common focal point for new founders is the community's liturgy. It becomes the platform for their view of religious life. Whether traditional or progressive, they see community prayer as a way to form the other members into a new identity. Most new founders are critical of programs for new members and of the actions of the community's leaders. They believe that, if their own vision of things prev~lils, the community will be refounded with new vitality. They blame the community's short-age of vocations on its resistance to their newcomers' vision of community renewal. The tone of their petitions for dispensation often indicates that they consider themselves to be ahead of or even better than most of the institute's members. They predict dire consequences for the community after their departure, Convinced that their own vision is important and urgent, they feel they must leave and find a place to implement it immedi-ately. Such refounding attitudes seem to stem from an assumption that the community is joining them on their journey, not that they are joining a group that already has a reasonably defined identity as it proceeds on its journey. In my experience, formation programs that encourage self-expression without enough regard for the community's corporate identity only encourage new founders in convictions that will prove problematic. The Loss-of-Hopes I have thus far described three types of departing members. I believe that the responsibility for their departure from religious life rests primarily with them and not the community. The com-munity has failed them in many ways, but the motivation of these individuals has been essentially flawed, often from their very early years in religious life. The fourth type of persons leaving reli-gious life today are different. Here the primary responsibility for the departure lies with the community, with its lack of faithfulness to its charism. These tragic petitions come from persons who have given their best effort to be faithful to the religious life and have not found much support from other members. Some have found it JanuaTy-Febtvtaty 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us nearly impossible to find within their community a supportive environment for prayer and the vowed life. If they have shared their frustrations with other members, they often have received kind words but not active support. Sometimes this, alienation from the community has been caused by other members' general lack of interest in things spir-itual. These other members see themselves as professionals and have little feeling for the idea of a vocation. Considering the meaning of the vows to be very personal, they avoid discussing their own viewpoint with others for fear of seeming to impose it on them. I believe that the departure decisions of members of this type are rooted in their experience of hopelessness about the direc-tion in which the community seems to be moving. Often they feel that they do not even speak a common language about reli-gious life with the other members. They feel that the commu-nity has settled for the lowest common denominator for reasons of avoiding the tensions associated with serious conversion efforts. From my distant vantage point, there appear to be real signs of death in places where these departing members have been living their religious life; regrettably, suggestions to try another place are too late by the time the petition for dispensation reaches the major superior. It falls on leaders to learn from these tragic stories and to address the perceived failures as part of their leadeiship task. In my experience, it is almost impossible to restore hope to members who have become disillusioned; but leadership should make dis-tinct efforts to change situations in which, in the future, even more members would be likely to lose their hope. The I'm-Better-Nows Persons of the fifth and final type of men leaving religious life during my term of office were those who through most of their lives suffered from spiritual or emotional problems. Often their motive for entering religious life was the hope of having their problems resolved by the vowed life. Some of these problems were rooted in their early childhood experiences. Religiou~ life appeared to be a safe place to escape the pain of their family sit-uation. Their low self-esteem was a primary reason for entering community. Their hope, however, that religious life would con- Revie'a, for Religious fer a new value on them and make them better people had not been fulfilled. In some cases the reality of verbal or physical abuse made them fearful of any close relationship. They perceived the vow of chastity as protecting them from such trials, but as the years passed they experienced an inability to relate in a healthy manner with other members of the community. Their lives were marked by a crisis event, such as substance abuse, which made their superiors suggest or even require them to get professional help. Their petitions for depar-ture were often set in the context of the ther-apy in which their suffering was addressed. As they became spiritually and emotionally more integrated, their reasons for being a religious seemed to them less cogent. If they now were capable of healthy relationships, they wanted marriage or the freedom to find deeper mean-ing outside religious community. While it might seem strange, their main reason for wanting to leave community was that they were now happy and did not need the community anymore, Their needs for protection and status had been resolved in a positive manner. Most of these petitioners expressed gratitude to the community for their loving support through their many trials, and they knew true sorrow as they left. I have spoken with a number of healthcare givers about mem-bers of this type, and all have suggested that departure may be the best option for them. They also suggest that religious should examine within their communities the dynamics that allow peo-ple to hide from their problems until they reach the crisis stage. One healthcare professional once told me he thought that reli-gious practice "false mercy" in not addressing the problems of disturbed members until there is a major crisis. As they became spiritually and emotionally more integrated, their reasons for being a religious seemed to them less cogent. Reflections for the Future No matter how perfect our formation programs become, there will always be some members who make the decision to leave us after many years of association. This is to acknowledge frankly Janttaty-Febtvtat3, 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us the human dimension of religious life, but we can learn from our experiences. It is for the sake of such learning that I have shared my insights as a general-council member who has returned to his province and seen these patterns continuing in religious com-munities. Can we learn from those who have left us? Can we speak hon-estly with our present members when we see behaviors that have led others to leave us? I believe that, if we have the courage to say yes to these two questions, the pain of occasionally having some members choose to leave us and our life together would be much more bearable. In the Temple Year followed year the two had come to this place, old man, old woman, wearing persistence like a skin. Here, perhaps, familiar shadows sharpened the eye's observance. What ¯ better place to find the light, and by it be found, than in the dark? Leonard Cochran OP Review for Religious HILARY OTTENSMEYER Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing From time to time a gathering of like-minded Christians-- whether it be a spiritual-direction group, an Emmaus group, a Bible-sharing group, or a prayer group--expresses a desire to "go deeper." This desire, perhaps only vaguely defined, generally means that the members want to be more self-revealing, more honest in discussing areas of faith, doubts about the church, glossed-over conflicts within the group, and fears that the meetings have become perfunctory, even boring. In such a case the introduction of some simple group dynamic into the meetings may allow the group to reach a new and more comfortable, if challenging, level of sharing. A dynamic based on the four seasons seems well suited to that task.~ The first time the dynamic is used, an outside facilita-tor can be helpful, one whom the group has chosen for being able and trustworthy. Later, on its own, the group could well devote at least one session to each of the seasons. Nature's seasons are an experience with which we are all familiar. The seasons can function for a group in poetic, dynamic ways, that is, ways in which the clearest and most labored prose cannot. Such metaphors break through the limits of human speech and help us become aware of thoughts and feelings that are otherwise inaccessible. The "I am" statements of John's Gospel demonstrate this beau-tifully. Each believer brings a different set of meanings Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB wrote "The Problem with Problems" for our September-October 1995 issue. His address remains 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing on hearing Jesus describe himself as the Good Shepherd or the Bread of Life. The seasons function in a similarly evocative way. People instinctively realize that we grow only when we hon-estly share the burdens and problems of our minds and hearts. Time and again we witness this in the pages of the Gospels. The healed leper, the demoniac rescued from among the tombs, the blind Bartimaeus lifted from his roadside isolation, the breath-less disciples returning to Jerusalem from the road to Emmaus, all these Jesus restores to community where they can pour out their hearts in sharing their "stories." Some Cautions Sharing in a group must be neither .intrusive nor abusive. Certain agreed-upon boundaries need to be set to protect the sanctuary of the individual conscience and the dignity of personal free will. There can be no forced entry into the heart. Even God will not force that door, but, like a true lover, quietly tells us, ,Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me" (Rv 3:20). The ultimate dream: table companionship with God! As a minimum, the following rules apply: 1. Members should make only."I" statements, never "you" statements, that is, "I think." and not "You are . " We cannot know the full reality of other people's minds and hearts until we ask them from a respectful distance. 2. Anyone should feel free to call a halt at any time to a line of inquiry directed towards herself or himself: "I'd really rather not discuss that at this time." This allows group members to claim the reverence which is their due. 3. Members should accept responsibility for the unfolding of their lives, avoiding the chronic "victim mentality" that is pervasive in our culture. Blaming others or "life" is most often an evasion.~ As one friend expresses' it, there are four doors into the neurotic. Each door is a belief in one of the following statements: (1) I can make you happy; (2) I can make you sad; (3) you can make me happy; (4) you can make me sad. Reluctant though we are to acknowledge it, each one of us is responsible for his or her own life. Only catastro-phes that overwhelm us exempt us from facing this honestly. 4. We help each other through honest and clear feedback, painful though that may sometimes be. Simple feedback, that Review for Religious is, a brief statement about how another's thoughts or actions come up in one's own life, proves most helpful: "When I am drawn to act that way, I find ."Advice giving is to be care-fully avoided. Other cautions come to mind, but these seem basic. We do not have a direct perception of ourselves. So burdened are our thought processes, so fixed into routine are our actions, that we need the kind mirror of another's perceptions held up before us. We seem at times so suffocated by our prejudices, by our closely guarded denials and chosen ignorances, that we experience a real joy when someone gently opens the window to let in the fresh air of new ideas and new possibilities. Indeed, our deepest prej-udices are those we hold against ourselves. This is the saddest discovery of all. What a joy when someone helps us stand up and claim our own worth! Fall: Season of Fruition Easing into the sharing process is most gently done by choos-ing as a beginning the symbol of fall. Most mellow of seasons, fall is the time of harvest, when good things are gathered up and fes-tivals begin. The rewards of hard work and steady determination lie before us. We have a need to celebrate at this time of year. At this point, what are the fruits of the group's loyalties? There are stored memories of joy shared, of times when a mem-ber has been lifted up and celebrated. The group has had insights that can be recalled, times when it realized that Jesus was there in their midst and hearts burned with awareness of his presence. The Lord was walking with the group as it went along the way. Ours is a faith community devoted to the joys of remembrance, as every Eucharist proclaims. One way of beginning: Inventory the gifts each individual brings to the group. What do I bring to the group which, because of my background, education, talents, and so forth, constitutes a special gift? Follow this by a question put to the entire group: What do we think this one member contributes that is most enriching? Move on then to a consideration of how the group has changed over time, pointing out new levels of support and understanding. Where has a sense of continuity been discerned? What new and unexpected biessings have been slowly revealed in each individual? ffanuao,-Febrttaty 1997 Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing An important benefit of a sharing group is the contact that members have between sessions. We all struggle to keep alive a "circle of friends." A support group affords an excellent opportu-nity to widen that circle beyond relatives and school-day chums. Do the members of the group reach out to each other between meet-ings? Has acquiring and sustaining friends--those essential inter-personal skills--been nurtured by the activities of the support group? What new skills have been acquired? "If you want a friend, be a friend" is a truth that needs to be lived out day by day. Living in community is of itself no assurance of having friends, but only company. Have I worked at being a friend to members of the group? Winter: Season of Perseverance Winter is the season of hoping and of endurance. For most of us in these northern climes, except for the occasional bright win-ter day, the skies are covered and a chill hangs over the land. Winds bite. Snow and ice impede travel. One has to draw on deep inner resources of strength, and hold on to memories of warmer days. There are winter seasons for a support group, too. These times have to be confronted and admitted. There is a time for breaking open the soil before spring planting. We are reluctant to put a hand to this kind of work, but it is the necessary condition for future growth. A "winter" discussion is the most difficult kind the group will have, and requires patience and loyalty. Questions needing examination fall easily into three cate-gories: 1. Where have we silently established "off limits" areas of discussion: subtly agreed-upon restrictions and withhold-ings? When and how does sharing break down in the group? What expectations did we bring when we joined the group, and how have these been disappointed because of these unspoken conventions? Was I honest with my hopes when I joined? Certainly, every group has the right to mark the boundaries of its sharing. But were these boundaries hon-estly agreed on when the group was formed? Were we too idealistic, too superficial, or too demanding? Were there angers in the group that were glossed over? ¯ 2. What does the group need to work on with determina-tion, for example, admitting and establishing boundaries, facing avoidances; or surfacing denials? Review for Religious 3. Very importantly, what healings need to take place? Does any member feel wounded or rejected in any way? How would this healing best come about? One makes a wonderful discovery in crossing this difficult winter terrain. Secrets can poison people's lives. When we have the courage and trust needed to reveal those tender areas of the heart, we find that others too have suffered in the same way. Walls crum-ble. The Jesus who draws us together out of our loneliness and fears is there, in the eyes and voices of others, to strengthen the fragile bonds that hold together a faith community. Spring: Season of Hope Renewed We all love spring with its beginnings of new life, with early crocuses, hyacinths, and tulips. Winter seems sometimes to linger stubbornly, but spring finally triumphs and spirits soar. Melting snows turn into sparkling rivulets. Sap rises in the trees, and ten-der greens appear along the limbs of trees. A support group too brings forward its hopes for renewal, for new life. It is helpful to go back and test the roots for their vital-ity. This can be done when the members share where their indi-vidual faith stories began. People are always eager to tell their stories. The vast professional therapeutic industry has risen because people are hungry to recount their stories. If the listen-ers are skilled, they can help the storyteller understand better the meaning of the tale. Within the faith story, certain elements are important. Who taught you to pray? Who were your role mod-els of faith? What were some of the significant moments on your faith journey? What was your image of God in childhood years, and how has it evolved over the years? How do you pray at this time in your life? What more do you wish for in your relationship with God? What is your answer when Jesus asks, "What do you want meto do for you?" (Mk 10:51). Not only do roots need to be inspected, but growth too needs to be looked for. What hungers are you aware of in your faith today? How could this support group help you? What aspects of your faith do you want to bring into the lives of those you love or those with whom you work? I have noticed that groups experience a surge of interest when "spring" sessions take place. A renewed commitment, a deeper investment is made in the group, and mem-bers reach a deeper trust level very easily. Januao,-FebrttaO, 1997 Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing Summer: Season of Sustained Growth The summer months fill us with a sense of achievement. The harsh days of winter are over. The stimulating work of spring has been accomplished. Now is the time to relax and enjoy the warm days and long, quiet evenings. In fields and in flower beds around the house, buds are gathering to maturity; grains are swelling in the fields and fruits filling out to ripeness in the orchards. This is the season of contentment, when gentle rains come to nature's aid. Now people have time for visits, vacations, and concerts in the park. Indeed, the "lazy, hazy days of summer" clothe us like a comfortable garment, and we are grateful. Groups, too, can benefit from at least one "summer" session, counting the blessings the members have seen coming to fruition among themselves. What was the heritage the individual members received from their mother and father? Looking back on the ten-der years of childhood, each person recognizes a "gift" from his or her parents, a "breath of life" that only parents could breathe into the heart of a child. Influenced deeply by our family roots, we make decisions about our place, our possibilities, in the world. What was the special legacy, outlook on life, stance before the future that the members received-from their mother and father? And how has this gift been nurtured and cherished? How did the hands of your father and mother feel at your back as they sup-ported your first steps and as you still, to this da~,, feel their hands steadying your walk through life? Or, and this too must be faced, did their hands grasp you and hold you back? When did you first feel the hand of God at your back, reach-ing with help and love into your life? Perhaps you experienced God as a hand drawing you forward through difficult days and years, pointing the way prophetically towards promise. Which times were times of contentment, when your journey reached a plateau and you rested quietly for a while? Seasoned Years Our lives seem to take the shape of repeated cycles. The pri-mordial journey of Abraham comes to mind here. A call comes to move forward when we are asked to entrust our future to God in faith. Then follows a transition period presenting obstacles to overcome, anxieties and failures to accept, flesh commitments courageously to be made to our beckoning God. Finally comes a Review for Religious sense of arrival, a time to rest and gather strength for the next call, time to sing a canticle of gratitude. Such a pattern applies to a support group. How has the group experienced these calls, these trials, and these periods of rest? Does the group know how to celebrate its members, choosing activities that will express its joy? One priest group I know takes a three-day trip each summer. All eight pile into a rented van, set out for a not-too-distant point of interest, and simply enjoy them-selves. They are gathering shared happy experiences to live on through the months to come. Nothing has been said on the impor-tant topics of how a group is set up, how members select themselves into a group (or are allowed to join it), and how an individual might bring closure when leav-ing. Indeed, perhaps the group decides it no longer serves its original purposes and goes out of existence. No mention has been made of how a group defines its orig-inal goals or modifies them. Without that vital process, the prospects for a successful investment of time and energy are rather dim. These are all con-siderations for another article, one that indeed has been written many times and was not our purpose here. Group renewal is our purpose. Every group, no matter how well put together at its inception or how generous and serious the will of its members, needs to be renewed in its commitment from time to time. The four seasons of the year can help in that necessary task. When did you first feel the hand of God at your back, reaching with help and love into your life? Note ~ The seminal idea for this article was suggested to me by Donna Fyffe; CommunityWorks; 101 West Ohio Street, Suite 1776; Indianapolis, Indiana 46204. Januar),-FebJvlat3, 1997 PAUL DUCKRO, MARJORIE KUKOR, AND JEAN MEIER Inner Work with Your Anger Anger is an emotion much maligned. It is often referred to as a "negative" emotion. Many persons are not comfort-able feeling anger and seek to suppress it in the interest of har-mony and accommodation. Paradoxically, by such efforts people increase their likelihood of expressing anger dysfunctionally. When people suppress anger, or even repress it, it does not disappear; it is left to work its way indirectly, like a force under-ground. It may express itself in very rationalized statements, rec-ognized only in the impossible and recurring problems that follow in their wake. There may be episodic outbursts of anger followed by gre~t anxiety and remorse, forming a cycle of conflict. Other persons may use anger much more overtly, as a domi-nating force. In them anger is a trademark, emerging frequently with few inhibitions. It may even become crystallized in ways of viewing the world--as evil, inconvenient, incompetent, and so forth. Either extreme--expressing anger frequently or habitually suppressing it--may lead to the development of a clinically sig-nificant syndrome for which professional therapy is indicated. Along with such destructive potential, anger has many posi-tive aspects that we shall point out. Moreover, there are proactive ways to deal constructively with deleterious anger in everyday life. Behavioral therapies have been demonstrated to be very effec- Paul Duckro PhD, Dr. Marjorie Kukor, and Jean Meier CSJ, PsyD, can be written to at St. Louis Behavioral Institute; 1129 Macldind Avenue; St. Louis, Missouri 63110. Review for Religious tive. For example, cognitive behavior therapy is effective in cases of uncontrolled anger, suppressed anger, simmering resentment, or cycles of angry outburst and fearful restraint. Typically it com-bines development of new skills, modification of dysfunctional beliefs, and exploration of past experiences that have shaped a person's thoughts and behaviors. More experiential approaches are effective too. In clinical practice these have been shown to improve the recognition, acknowledgment, and expression of anger, whether or not there is the opportunity to work through the anger interpersonally. Experiential therapies take many forms. Art, movement, and fan-tasy are common ways to explore and express anger. Painting and sculpturing are evocative media through which the source of someone's anger can be revealed. Color and form can often rep-resent anger that lies too deep for words. This therapy has long been used with children, but it is no less effective with adults who feel trapped in their own anger. Exercise and movement can express and diffuse angry feelings. Emotional energy is "con-verted" into physical energy rather than being "trapped" in psy-chological or physical symptoms. Fantasy allows people to express and then explore their powerful emotions in a safe way, even toward absent or deceased persons or toward the unseen God. The persons "work through" angry feelings, moving toward a new level of integration and wholeness. Experiential therapies are important when the anger is not even recognized, much less processed, as emotion. It is not unusual for anger to be experienced and expressed--and masked-- in intellectualized forms such as opinions and logical judgments. In such cases, working in a tactually receptive form of experien-tial therapy can release emotions otherwise effectively disguised as thoughts and verbalizations. For persons of faith, contemplative or meditational encounter with the anger has great potential, linking the psychological and spiritual aspects of healing. It is on this approach to anger man-agement that we focus here. For our purposes we will refer to it as inner work. Inner work is the interior correspondent of con, flict resolution. The essence of both is movement, as opposed to remaining stuck in resentment, bitterness, or cynicism. From the exterior perspective, the time given to inner work appears to be "doing nothing." In fact, this doing nothing is true only superficially. Inner work is an active and engaging process of Janua~y-Feb~'ualy 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger coming to terms with both the immediate stimulus for the anger and its deeper sources within. Synergistic with the more obvious activity of conflict resolution, engaging in inner work may provide the time needed for cooling off. Beyond such a practical benefit, this doing nothing is also the space in which one can reflect and make associations and thus prepare to move forward in relation-ships. It helps individuals to insure that they are not pinning their own issues onto someone else or substituting one-sided judgment for dialogue. Stages of Inner Work Inner work with anger involves several stages. The first appears so simple that it is often overlooked: the recognition that you are angry. This step requires regular self-examination, knowl-edge of the ways you may experience anger physically and psy-chologically, and alertness to how you customarily try to mask your anger. That regular self-examination is necessary only restates the obvious: if one does not look, one will not see. Knowing the variety of ways that people experience anger increases the odds that you will recognize it. Anger is, of course, an emotion that people experience directly, but it can also be uncovered in behaviors, thoughts, verbalizations, and bodily reac-tions. Individuals will have characteristic ways in which their anger is masked, expressed indirectly, or expressed passively. Becoming aware of these patterns of human response, you will more likely recognize your own anger under such guises as logi-cal argument, social withdrawal, passive resistance, depressed mood, and spiritualization. If you do not recognize your anger, it cannot be channeled or transformed. Anger that is not experienced or expressed directly is not easily unmasked. Gruff exteriors can hide from the indi-viduals themselves an anger that is obvious to everyone else; so can a smile, and so can solicitousness. For you to relate to such a "shy" anger within yourself may be compared to relating to some-one who is reluctant to come forward. The unmasking must not be done forcefully, or hurtfully. Imagineextending your hand to the anger within, with reassurance that there is no need to hide. In this invitation the anger is reassured that it is seen as a legiti-mate emotion with a reason for being which is important for you to understand. Review fi~r Religious The simple power of recognizing your anger (we might call it awareness) lies in the fact that merely paying it attention changes the anger at once. This phenomenon, the power of simple obser-vation to transform what it observes, is well recognized, not only in behavioral but even in physical science. It can be found in var-ious forms also in our spiritual tradition. From earlier teachers we know the concept that to hold the true name of anything or any-one is to have power over it. We learn that the desert fathers and mothers taught their spiritual children first to name their demons.St. Teresa of Avila taught us that, if anything is embraced in love, it already begins to be transformed. To be true to this way of proceeding, we must remind ourselves that the power does not lie in trying to manipulate or control the anger. In each case, as in the example of dealing with "shy" anger, there is an encounter with the anger. Encounter implies relationship, interaction, and the potential for mutual change: the anger also has something to say. The second stage of inner work with anger may be described as bringing the anger inside yourself. Unpacking that metaphor is not easy; not all of its meaning will be captured in any one exposition. It is already evident that the first and second stages are diametrically opposed to what is often a reflexive response to strong, unwanted anger--trying to get rid of it. We turn to a familiar fairy tale to shed more light on the power of bringing the anger inside. Recall the story of "The Three Little Pigs." Imagine being one of the little pigs barricaded in the last house, the one made of brick. Anger at first may seem like,the big bad wolf howling menacingly outside the door. You shake within, behind the barred door and locked windows. To be exposed to such a monster would be certain death. If matters continue in this way, there can be no happy end-ing-- at best there is stalemate. You know the pigs' solution, and in a way it is related to what we will suggest. But let us modify it in the interest of love and mutual growth. In a feat reserved for imagery, imagine yourself inviting that wolf in. Already, simply to enter the house, the big wolf must become small, at least small Inner work is an active and engaging process of coming to terms with both the immediate stimulus for the anger and its deeper sources within. JanuaJ3,-FebJvtal3, 1997 D_.~ckro~ Kukor~ and Meier * Inner Work with Your Anger enough to fit through the very same door which you use. From that time the wolf already becomes more your equal; the bad wolf becomes your guest. Your fear calms down to prudent caution. Anger, upon being brought inside, begins the dialogue, furthers mutual understanding, and allows you to listen to the message-- which apparently some part of you thought was important enough to arouse such a furor. The third stage consists of continuing your association with the anger. This is the dialogue, and the very heart of inner work with anger. Although associating with your anger must of neces-sity be a free-flowing process, with content unique to yourself, it is useful to consider the general material you might encounter. The material of association might be divided into old and current issues. Old issues are the recurrent themes that come up again and again in anyone's life. Much of the message of any intense "negative" emotion has to do with these recurring themes. A popular way of conceptualizing this idea has been called the 90/10 rule. It suggests that, in understanding the message of strong feeling, very little (10 percent) has to do with what seems to be obvious, the matter on which you are focused. The greater part (90 percent) arises from old issues that have been reawak-ened by the current circumstances. Imagine a detonator: a small and harmless charge sets off a much larger and destructive explo-sion, a cache of dynamite for example. Obviously, the great positive potential in associating with the anger is in learning to listen for the old issues which come up in the process. These old issues influence your perception as perva-sively as a pair of colored glasses affects your view of the world around. They color your interpretations and lead to a type of conditioned reality. You actually see what you expect to see. Unrecognized old issues lead to compulsive or addictive cycles of behavior. You perceive each new situation through lenses that transform it into an old familiar one. In turn, you bring up and apply old familiar responses to these new situations. Outcomes become more and more predictable. Imagine a traveling theater troupe picking up extra actors in each town. The players are dif-ferent, but the plots are always the same. With anger, bitterness, or resentment, there is a kind of cold comfort in having been right about the advent of unpleasant realities (while you conve-niently forget that often it is you who make them unpleasant). Such victories are P))rrhic, Finding the results familiar becomes Review for Religious for you (however unconsciously) more desirable than finding--or trying to make--the current reality pleasant. The rigid shape of such compulsive behavior is evident. To emphasize the importance of old issues is not to say that current issues are unimportant. On the contrary, as you recog-nize the anger, calm the anxiety, and listen for old issues, the cur-rent issues become more distinguishable and more manageable. The solutions that present themselves are likely to be effective for being rooted in your actual current situation instead of being autonomous repetitions of previous experiences. When you see current issues clearly, you under-stand them in terms of relationship rather than as someone else's problem affecting you. You see a problem as relational, a matter between or among the several concerned parties rather than in one or another person. Common sources of anger in the present include threats to self-esteem, feeling vulnerable, being cheated, receiv~ ing dishonest or indirect communication. When these problems are freed from the heavy bag-gage of the old, recurring themes, their substance remains but they become much lighter to carry. Consider, for example, a threat to self-esteem. A colleague is given attention for her successes. It seems to you that some of her ideas carrie from' conversations in which you played a part. There is resentment that she is in the spotlight and fear that no one will look to you for ideas in the future. The most power-ful factors in your emotional response to the situation lie in your previous experiences. If you have felt unappreciated, if you have been afraid to speak before others, if you have learned to feel that others do not take you seriously, if you have learned to deeply doubt your own value or your ability to succeed, you will feel burning anger at your dubiously accurate perception of a threat to your livelihood and reputation. If you are not good at pro-cessing and expressing anger, you will carry it as a tortuous con-flict within you, eating at body and mind, blocking the flow of spirit. On the other hand, if you can recognize the old issues for what they are, can avoid disparaging yourself for holding them, and then begin dealing with them directly, you will find within The great positive potential in associating with the anger is in learning to listen for the old issues which come up in the process. dO dTtttltta13,-Febrtttlty 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger yourself the energy for doing so. You will assess more clearly how serious the immediate threat is. From that assessment you can gauge the strength of the confrontation and discussion you must have with your colleague. If you are not.skilled at assertive expres-sion, you may determine a course of action to improve such skills. The problem is resolvable. The actual method of associating with your anger requires some elaboration. An essential component is to calm yourself down. The failure to calm down, especially to calm down your cognitive activity, heightens the risk of repeating a version of the old issues that tend to inflate your angry response. Physiological calming facilitates cognitive calming, and both allow the pro-duction of fresh associations. It is important to distinguish this type of calming from sup-pressing the anger or avoiding the current issues. The idea is not to become suddenly and inexplicably blissful. The aim is simply to be present to the anger--bringing it in, seeing it for what it is, and sorting out the old issues that are inflaming it. The most effective way to calm down is simply to become aware of your breathing and then to breathe gradually more slowly and deeply, and from the diaphragm. No particular rate or pro-portion of breathing is necessary, but it is often helpful to allow each exhalation to proceed slowly, like a slow leak from a tire. With each long exhalation your heart rate will be slower, and you will feel more and more relaxed. Let yourself move as necessary to remain physically comfortable, and do not be afraid to take a big ungainly breath if you get out of rhythm; just come back to the slow, diaphragmatic breathing as soon as possible thereafter. The overall goal is a sense of effortlessness in the breathing, letting the tension and the struggle to control melt away, but feeling all the sensations of the body with even greater awareness. Focus then on the parts of the body that seem most active. You will find in these places the physical correlates of your anger, As you interact in this way with your physical sensations, move to the emotion underlying them. Remaining relaxed, let yourself feel the anger more fully, either directly as emotion or in its phys-ical manifestations. Now that it is allowed to enter within your relaxed self, it will no longer be overpowering as you contemplate it. Call it by name with your inner voice, softly and repeatedly. As you do so, remain calmly aware and allow your mind to produce the next thought, feeling, image, or memory. Accept that next Review for Religious association without judgment, and then focus on it. Continue the process in just this way until you reach an association that seems new and striking a.nd that requires more time. Stay with it for a 16nger time, just holding it in mind. Other thoughts and feelings will weave themselves around it. If you find yourself excessively dis-tracted, try writing.down your thoughts, feelings, or sensations, associating further with each one as you write. In this process of free association, you are opening doors within you. Areas which have been blocked off by shame or will-fulness may become accessible. Some of these areas may be unpleasant, exposing feelings that are painful. These you must bring to spiritual direction, prayer, intimate friends, or psy-chotherapy for support in working through them to new life. In the course of such work, you move toward oneness within; this is the essence of the integrity you seek. You see yourself more hon-estly and clearly, and you see also what is being touched within you. What you must do becomes more clear. The last stage is taking the anger to relationships.° Although our focus in this essay has been on inner work, this inner work leads to interpersonal interaction. It is in the movement from intrapersonal exploration to the interpersonal resolution of anger that we avoid individualism and act for justice and peace in our personal worlds. These personal worlds, in any particular life or set of circumstances, may range from the grand scale of interna-tional diplomacy to the intimate relationship of two persons. This inner work, then, is not an alternative to external work, but is the basis from which to move toward others. In inner work we take time to explore thoroughly .the nature of our own anger, with-holding action until we have taken the beam from our own eye. Upon so doing, when we do act we are much less likely to return evil for evil. We are more likely to be able to collaborate with God in turning all things to the good, for ourselves and others. Relational Responses In discussing this stage in which we take the anger to rela-tionship, it is useful to highlight the basic choices with which we are faced. Our choices determine whether and how much our response will further a relationship. In coming to terms with any strong "negative" emotion, we are faced with such choices, lead-ing to greater or lesser connection with others. Januaty-Febtvlaty 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger The mutuality required for integration rests ultimately on dialogue, people expressing their own feelings and desires and listening to one another. Y2 At its worst, anger polarizes. The participants separate into factions whose interests seem mutually opposed. Anger so expe-rienced leads to stronger or longer-lasting feelings of hatred and resentment, and to behaviors aimed at the injury or destruction bf the other parties. We easily see such hot or cold wars on the broad and somewhat anonymous levels of local, national, and interna-tional politics; they occur just as often, however, on the smaller stages of our personal and professional lives. Somewhat more benign, but still only minimally relational, is what we might call parallel play. In this live-and-let-live stance, there is no intention to hurt the other parties, but neither is there much sense of the common or universal good, and there is no intimate interaction. Farther along the continuum, we can indicate a point of compromise. This term is unfortunately not held in high esteem. What some people see as a reasonable compromise, many others see as "giving in," collaborating with evil; in fact, they see the compromiser as "compromised"-- or, at best, wishy-washy. However, com-promise (literally: putting forth, together) can be actually a high-level response with the potential for build-ing a better relationship out of previous anger and conflict. The partners in conflict become sensitive to each other's agendas and to opportunities for their mutual benefit in a common good. The arrangement might be unsteady, but continued dialogue in this spirit leads to change, however slow it might seem to those who prefer war, personal or otherwise, as a means of change. On any given day, compromise may be all the relationality we can muster. Nevertheless, its regular practice can move us along toward the point of integration. It is in the honest integra-tion of apparent opposites that we most fully participate in ongo-ing creation. Both compromise and integration must be and remain, opposed to syncretism, in which each side is reduced to being a lesser entity than it was. Integration requires the full pres-ence of both parties, each maintaining--and even realizing more fully--its own identity, but also coming together to form, from an Review Jbr Religious appreciation of their essential unifies and commonalities of inter-est, a new whole never before experienced. To accomplish such a union requires freshness of experience: two persons seeing each other as if for the first time. Obviously, the ideal is challenging and not easily reached. It is best to consider it a process that incor-porates the letting-go of egoism, that sense of self which empha-sizes self-protection and personal rights at the expense of openness and intimacy. It is analogous to the process of inculturation in evangelization presented by Pope John Paul II and articulated eloquently in the documents of General Congregation 34 of the Society of Jesus. The mutuality required for integration rests ulti-mately on dialogue, people expressing their own feelings and desires and listening to one another. Words are a poor medium to express such matters, but they are often the best means we have. In love, they are enough. At this level of relationship, anger has been transformed. It is now not merely a difficult emotion to be managed, but an impetus to new creation. Of such dialogue--two or more persons allowing their center of focus to be between or among themselves rather than within any one of them--it may truly be said that the reign of God is there. Forgiveness and reconciliation are experienced in a fresh way. Old hurts are not forgotten, but now are embodied in the new whole. They are used to create a new way of understanding which, rather than suppressing them, coopts them for the good. Taking care of oneself is redefined, as self has been redefined, beyond the limits of the corporeal body and one's personal psy-chological history. The well-being of any other person comes grad-ually to be seen as vitally important to one's own self. The Contemplative Stance This coming together in integration is certainly not without much pain and difficulty. More often than not, it seems that the creation of a new whole from disparate positions is impossible. Nevertheless, it is this apparent impossibility that in fact calls us to a new something. There is a tradition, among shamans of so-called primitive religions, that iust such apparently impossible situations signal, often in a sacred dream, the opportunity to advance to a new level of spiritual understanding. In our Christian tradition we may understand this new creation as furthering cor-poral realization of the mystical body of Christ. .~mlttaly-Febrttal3, 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier o" Inner Work with Your Anger A contemplative stance in life facilitates the recognition and acceptance of opportunities' for integration as we work through strong feelings of anger. Such a contemplative stance does not imply or require a cloistered vocation; it is simply a willingness to become ever more aware of what is happening within us and around us. It is furthered by the practice of certain disciplines such as frequent self-examination, centering prayer, and medita-tive relaxation. An image passed on by Suzanne Zuercher OSB expresses the nature of being contemplative very well. Imagine holding a bird in your cupped hands. Hold it too tightly and the bird will be crushed; too loosely and the bird flies away. So it is to be present to ourselves and others. In such contemplation God, divine Mystery, is found truly in all things. All the events of life, without exception, are material for the spiritual journey. There is no need to avoid or suppress dis-tractions or strong emotions; there is only the call to work with them honestly. An ideal, of course, is a distant marker. As with ship and lighthouse, we hope not so much to find ourselves there as to be guided by its light. In the end the stuff of our growth is not found in our perfection, but in our flaws. Stumbling blocks become stepping stones, fissures become our footholds. Honest reflecting on the disruptive emotions that rise unbidden in us, and on our failures in handling them for the good, keep us rooted humbly in the truth of our lives. This truth, however unlovely it may seem, is the sure and only foundation for realizing the power of God working in us, From there we move closer to joy and compassion, holy indiffer-ence and equanimity, and become people for others. We find love. Review for Religious DENISE M. CALLAGHAN On Letting Go l~aan still see you sitting across the room from me, the light of e lamp highlighting your silver hair, your blue eyes still filled with life. You talked of how they were "putting you out," try-ing to get you to come to the motherhouse infirmary. And the best reason they could give you? They were worried about you because you seemed to be forgetful. You were not buying that, you told me. You kept insisting that you knew what you were doing, that you were not forgetful or careless about little matters of safety. I tried to suggest that there could be episodes you were not aware of. If you had been aware, there would be no prob-lem- but not being aware that you were not aware could be seri-ous. I was not just playing with words. I tried to give you examples. I tried to ease your dread of being uprooted. I hope I helped just a little, anyway. I thought of you often after you left. I found myself praying that you would be able to let go. So much of life is a matter of let-ting go. None of us does it lightly or easily. We are clingers by nature, I think. Even as infants we fasten our fingers around lit-tle baubles and hold on with surprising strength. Paul talks about that in some of his Epistles. "When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child . . ." (1 Co 13:11). I think (can we really remember it all now?) that it was not always easy to put aside the things of the child and become the responsible adult. Somehow, however awk-wardly, we did it. Sometimes it is not all pain--if the letting go of the old, famil-iar some thing, or some place, or some one means the reaching out Denise M. Callaghan SSND writes to us from 6401 North Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21212. 1997 Callagban ¯ On Letting Go What a beautiful gift we offer one another when we truly listen! Y6 to some one new, or some place new, or some thing new that sat-isfies and delights us. But there are those letting go's that are just that: all pain. There is no exchange; there is an emptying out, a hollowing out, a hurt, a loneliness, a void. Some of us literally break under the strain of it. Some of us do not break, but we become bitter and withdrawn. Some of us bluff our way through or somehow just bury the ache. Some of us, quietly and with great wisdom, simply let go--and then go on. What a great grace! No matter who we are, no matter how well we do what we do, we will all need from time to time to be able to let go: ¯ the older for the younger, ¯ the familiar for the new and the different, ¯ the surety of the tried and the true for the promise of the untried and the possible, ¯ the mellowed for the freshly cured, ¯ the wisdom of experience for the vision and the dream of the not-yet-chanced. It cannot be done lightly, nor should it be. Wisdom cautions weighing and measuring, reflectively letting go, effectively hold-ing on. We need to pray that the Spirit of wis-dom will inform us. We need to be attentive listeners to the movement of the Spirit in our own hearts and to trust that message. We also need to pray to be good listeners one to another. No one of us is so informed that our own judgment is always best. So we listen and weigh our view again, in light of someone else's wisdom and insight, There is a courtesy we owe one another, and a respect, and an esteem. We listen to each other, not dismissing the line of rea-soning, but attentively pondering it. What a beautiful gift we offer one another when we truly lis-ten! It is rare that we really do this. It can be singularly painful to someone when we do not do it, as when one who over a span of years has been looked up to as wise and judicious, insightful and intuitive, now senses that her views are being suddenly and sum-marily dismissed by younger members of the community. The real pain here is the feeling she has, upon seeing her remarks mentally brushed aside or not even fairly listened to, that she her-self is being discarded. This kind of not listening can go the other way, too. Someone Review for Religious young and presumably inexperienced touches deftly and wisely the very core of the issue and is merely smiled at as though youth's inexperience cannot possibly know anything that is truly perti-nent and helpful. All of us, of course, are painfully aware that most wisdom seems to come only by hindsight. Wisely did St. Augustine pray often for the grace of a "listening heart." We do indeed have to try our best to speak truth as we perceive it. Beyond that, we need the grace to be able to let go and try to pick up the truth in the words of others. Sometimes the need to let go can concern only myself: ¯ the death of a loved'one when I cannot even imagine living my life apart from that person, ¯ the loss of a friend in some painful misunderstanding that somehow cannot seem to be remedied, ¯ the diminishment and inability brought on by serious illness or aging, ¯ the hurt when politics decides who gets the promotion or the credit or the acclaim. One other demand on us individually from time to time will be the letting go of memories. We need never let go of the very heartening memories that enrich us and that are among our most precious treasures. We thank God over and over for those times, those persons, those events that set our hearts to singing at their every recall. But we do need to let go, with God's help, when the memory is painful and the whole episode shouts of injustice or rash judgments or false accusations or just plain dislike. It is right to try to remedy the wrong, particularly if it is done to someone else. Jesus asks each of us to be a speaker of truth. But when every effort fails and every avenue of remedy is sealed off, we need sim-ply to let go and to go on. It is not easy. Yet holding on and nurs-ing the grudge can be utterly destructive. We give the victory to the demon of darkness and we hurt God's cause. Ther

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Open Access#1021963

Review for Religious - Issue 22.3 (May 1963)

Issue 22.3 of the Review for Religious, 1963. ; JOHN XXIII Allocution to Spieitual Directors Our meeting todayI immediately precedes the week of retreat by which We intend to prepare Ourselves for the opening of the Ecumenical Council. You can imagine, then, what is going on in Our soul at this moment as We welcome you who have been chosen for one of the loftiest and most delicate services that exist in the Church. As perhaps you already know, We Ourselves exercised this same ministry at the Seminary of Bergamo shortly after World War I. This precious priestly experience permits Us to understand better the feelings of your own hearts, and at the same time it makes Our conversa-tion with you more intimate and more immediate. Before every thing else, beloved sons, We extend to you Our gratitude for the hidden but invaluable work which you are carrying on in an area that is rich in hopes for the apostolate. Dioceses depend on you; it can even be said that the future fate of the Church is to a large extent in your hands. It is true, of course, that the forma-tion of seminarians must be achieved by the harmonious collaboration of all superiors under the judicious and in-terested direction of the rector; nevertheless, the most important part of this formation pertains to you because your work is executed in the depths of conscience where deep convictions take root and where is effected the real transformation of the young men who are called, to the priesthood. It is the impulse of the Spirit of the Lord that initiates this transformation and brings it to completion; ordinarily, however, a young man will have difficulty in knowing how to follow the impulses of the Spirit without the expert control of the spiritual director. 1 This is an English translation of the allocution Questo incontro given by John XXIII on September 9, 1963, to a meeting of spiritual directors of the seminaries of Italy. The original text is given in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 54 (1962), pp. 673-8. $il~irltual Directors VOLUME 22, 196~ John XXII1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 258 We can imagine your daily sacrifices, your trepidations, and your silent sufferings. And God knows with how many prayers and efforts and perhaps anguish you daily pay for the graces of light and perseverance which you implore for your spiritual children. In manifesting to you Our gratitude, We feel that We possess the senti-ments of Christ Himself who, by entrusting to you His most precious treasures, has called you to labor with Him in this sublime work of His grace. /1 Dil~cult and Delicate Task We also wish to express to you Our satisfaction with your meeting and the good results to be expected from it. The education of the young--it is never out of place to repeat this--is a very arduous mission which is justly referred to as the art of arts. This is even more true when it is a question of young persons who in the greatness of their hearts are.giving themselves to the priesthood. The educator of seminarians is well aware that his personal preparation for this lofty ministry should continue throughout the length of his service. He must study the psychology of the students in the seminary; he must live with his eyes open to the world which surrounds him; he must learn from life. But he must also learn from books, from study, from the experiences of his colleagues, and from the progress of pedagogical science, especially from the texts and authors recommended by the Congregation of Seminaries. We cannot disguise the fact that in the matter of edu-cation there have been and are errors that are cloaked by the facile excuse that for the discernment and formation of vocations it is sufficient to have good sense, a sharp eye, and above all experience. We say this with a feeling of sadness. A more enlightened spiritual direction would have spared the Church the priests who do not live up to the greatness of their office, while at the same time it would have procured for her a decidedly higher number of holy ecclesiastics. Moreover, all of you are aware that every age en-counters and meets characteristic difficulties in the edu-cation of youth. In your own case you cannot forget that seminarians today belong to a generation that has ex- + perienced the tragedy of two tremendous world wars and that they live in a world which is evolving with amazing ÷ rapidity. Because of this you may at times be bewil.dered by various manifestations of a personality still unformed, by aspirations and exigencies which seem to be far from the mentality that was present only twenty years ago. This might lead one to conclude that the traditional formation has had its day and that new ways should be tried. On this point We would like to give candid ex-pression to Our thought. While in the matter o[ seminary [ormation it is not good to maintain outmoded ways o[ doing things, still it is necessary to be thoroughly convinced that fundamental principles retain all their~value; without thei~'o~he entire edifice would collapse and [all into ruin. Hence it is nec-essary to care[ully avoid the danger that marginal re-forms, however important and perhaps opportune they may be, should distract attention from what is the central problem o[ all seminary education. Your efforts must be principally directed towards creating in your charges an evangelically integral conception of the priesthood as well as a keen and vibrant consciousness o[ the obligation to tend towards holiness. Unchanged Value o] Fundamental Principles Beloved sons, the problem of personal sanctification was the point of honor and of joy o[ your and Our youth-ful years. Those called to the priesthood in this second half of the twentieth century can have nothing else more at heart both before the priesthood and during the years of its flowering and maturation. They must be persuaded of the emptiness of every apostolic effort that does not proceed from a soul in the state of grace and tending to-wards holiness. You must also take care to guide seminarians to a knowledge and a comprehension of the world in which they are called to live and to work; teach them to sancti[y everything good, sane, and beautiful that progress offers. This does not mean any compromise with a worldly spirit and much less does it imply a lessening o[ the importance of mortification and renunciation. A misunderstood mod-ernization that is preoccupied only with softening semi-nary life or with flattering nature too much would create a personality the direct opposite of Christ, Priest and Vic-tim. On the contrary, a really adequate adaptation to the needs of the times must result in a deeper assimilation to the personality of Christ and Him crucified. It is neces-sary to endow seminarians with a love of the self-denial of the cross in order that they may be able to love the con-dition o[ poverty in which the clergy must o[ten live and be able to meet with courage the renunciations and ex-hausting labors of the apostolate. Firm Discipline and JoyIul Dedication to Sacrifice At times one hears the expressions "autoformation" and "autodomination." It is certainly true that a person is not well formed if he does not know how to control himself; educators are justly concerned to give seminari-ans a practical and progressive exercise of freedom which 4. 4. Spiritual Directors VOLUME 22, 1963 259 4. 4. 4. John XXlll REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 260 will strengthen them to control themselves in determined circumstances and which prepares them better for the life of the ministry. But this cannot be disjoined from firm discipline. A young man will never learn to be mas-ter of himself if he has not learned to observe with love a strict rule that exercises him in mortification and in will power. Otherwise, later in the full exercise of the ministry he will not be prompt in a full and joyful obedience to his bishop; he might even undergo the temptation to as-sume an independence which, while it may not take the form of open rebellion, may nevertheless be manifested in personal action not in harmony with the plan of pas-toral activity suggested and proposed by his superiors. Finally, there can never be too much insistence on the importance of example. And it is you, beloved sons, who give this; it is older priests who give it; and We wish that We could say that all give it. Example is the most elo-quent and persuasive language for the young. Example will draw down an abundance of fruitful graces from the Lord; and from it seminarians will learn in an almost spontaneous way things that frequently are difficult to explain in words. Zeal /or Carrying Out the Decisions o/ the Council Because of the spiritual director's frequent and confi-dential contacts with seminarians, he is one of those per-sons who are incised into the memory; he can, therefore, if he is truly edifying, be one of the most effective sup-ports of future perseverance. Many times the amazing exuberance of Christian life in a diocese finds its true explanation in the silent work of a holy spiritual director who by his example and his teaching has been able to form a generation of holy priests. As We come to the end of Our reflections on this seri-ous and lofty matter of the formation of seminarians to whose good will the reinvigoration of ecclesiastical fervor in the entire Catholic world has been entrusted for execu-tion with the help of heavenly grace and by the applica-tion of conciliar legislation, We willingly give Our hom-age in these solemn circumstances to the sacred memory of those priests, now resting in the eternal light and peace of the Lord, to whose ministry as confessors and spiritual guides you and We entrusted the intimacy of our con-science at the various stages of our life. They are fully worthy of our commemoration. These elect souls who, having entered into eternity, now rejoice in their lofty goal or who~and they too are all holy and blessed--still wait entrance into that goal are according to the teaching of the Church participants in the events of the Church militant; they give her help especially at more important times such as this of the Ecumenical Council. It was the grace of the Lord which gave them on earth the meritorious work of the sanctifi-cation of priests in the past; may that grace now bring forth an abundance of fervor for the new birth which the Council intends to consecrate to the triuml~h of the kingdom of Christ the Lord: "ln holiness and justice be-fore him during all our days" (Lk 1:75). A Shining Example: Vincent Pallotti Beloved sons, the office of spiritual director bristles with difficulties and responsibilities, for it is concerned with the formation of souls into the image of Christ the Priest. It is a divine, not a human work. But this, far from discouraging you, constitutes the foundation of your con-fidence. You have a greater reason to abandon yourselves to the merciful omnipotence of the Divine Artisan who deigns to make use of you. Among the pleasing things of the new fervor which the Ecumenical Council is producing, it gives Us a lively sense of gratification to be able to look forward to the honors of the altar which are being prepared for some of the venerable Servants of God and of the Blessed who are a part of the universal constellation of the holiness of the Church spread throughout the world. We espe-cially look forward to the canonization of Blessed Vincent Pallotti. He was an edifying priest who knew how to unite the spiritual direction of the young clerics of the Pontifical Roman Seminary and of the students of the College of Propaganda with the founding of the Pious Society of Catholic Apostolate. This latter was the first movement in Rbme of Catholic Action in the proper sense of the word. And today we admire the flourishing condition of Catholic Action and its application to the important task of penetrating modern society with the Gospel. The entire activity of this outstanding priest was de-voted to the sanctification of the clergy and, as he himself put down in writing, to the defence of the faith and the spread of charity among Catholics; the one and the other he hoped to propagate in the entire world so that shortly there would be but one fold and one shepherd. He was the apostle of that manifold liturgical celebra-tion which still remains as an outstanding memorial to his far-sighted apostolic piety; this is the celebration of the Epiphany octave which is held each year in the Church of Sant'Andrea della Valle and which serves as a vigorous call for the development of missionary aware-ness in the Christian world and for prayer for the unity of the Church among all the peoples of the world. 4- 4- Spiritual Directors VOLUME 22~ 1963 26] Beloved, here for you to see are the words and example by which under the tutelage and impulsion of grace you can carry out the great work of fashioning the hearts of future priests according to the Heart of Christ. We have a serene assurance that Christ our Highpriest will make Our words to you fruitful. As a pledge of heavenly favors, We give to you and to all the. seminari-ans entrusted to your care Our apostolic blessing. ÷ ÷ ÷ John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 262 L. LEGRAND, M.E.P. The Spiritual Value Of Virginity According to St. Paul In his pleax for virginity in Chapter Seven of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, St. Paul insists on the greater spiritual freedom it gives: I would have you free from care. Now the unmarried man cares for the things of the Lord; his aim is to please the Lord. But the married man cares for the worldly things; his aim is to please his wife and he is divided. And the unmarried woman or the virgin cares for the things of the Lord; her aim is to be holy both in body and in spiri.t. But the married woman cares for the worldly things; her a~m ~s to please her husband (1 Cor 7:32-34). Detachment from the world, complete self-surrender to the Lord, sanctity of life: those are the reasons for which Paul prefers virginity to married life. We have studied elsewhere the "holiness" of virginity.2 It remains now to consider the other two causes which, in the eyes of Paul, make for the superiority of continence. Freedom from the World The language of the Apostle seems plain enough: celi-bacy is good becauge it is care free. The celibate is ame-rimnos, literally "careless." It goes without saying that this "carelessness" is not that of the inveterate bachelor for whom celibacy means only selfishness, attachment to comfort, privacy, and his idiosyncracies, aloofness, and dryness of heart. Paul makes it clear that what he extols is dedicated celibacy. Worldly worries are set aside so as 1 This article is reprinted with permission from Indian Ecclesiasti-cal Studies, v. 1 (1962), pp. 175-95. ~ See L. Legrand, "The Sacrificial Value of Virginity," Scripture, v. 14 (1962), pp. 67-75. 4- 4- 4- L. Legrand, M.E.P., is a faculty member of St. Peter's Seminary; Bangalore 12, In-dia. VOLUME 22, 196~ 263 4. 4. 4" L. Legrand, M.E.P . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to allow a singleness of purpose in the spiritual life which would be impossible in marriage. But is that explanation as satisfactory as it seems? Robertson and Plummer see a striking parallel to Paul's exhortation to virginity in saying of Epictetus: Is it not fit that the philosopher should without any dis-traction be employed only on the ministration of God, not tied down to the common duties of mankind, nor entangled in the ordinary relations of life;~ This parallel raises a problem. I1 the parallelism of thought is real, is it not compromising for Paul? Does not make of the Apostle, at least in this instance, a Stoic philosopher rather than a disciple of Jesus; and of celi-bacy an inheritance of Hellenism rather than a genuine element of Christianity? Towards the end of the Old Testament and the begin-ning of the Christian era, the main trends of Hellenistic thought, deeply marked by Platonic influence, saw an opposition between matter and spirit, between the pres-ent temporal condition and .the ideal world to which be-longed God and the eternal reality of things. The body was considered to be a jail which man had to leave to soar through knowledge and contemplation into the se-rene sphere of immutable eternity. An ideal of continent life would have been in the logic of that system. Actually it did not develop in Hellenism as it did, on almost simi-lar premises, in the Hindu systems of the Ashrams and in Buddhist monasticism.4 In fact, the full consequences of the Greek dualism were drawn only by such Christi;tn heretics as the Gnostics, Encratites, Donatists, Cathari, Albigenses, and the like. They condemned marriage as unclean and made of celibacy the necessary condition for salvation. But they were heretics. The Church never con-demned matrimony. Following the biblical view of the world, Christian thought cannot accept the Hellenistic dualism. The material world is a creation of God; hence it is good and so is the human body with all its functions. The order "to grow and multiply" was given by the Crea-tor Himself (Gn 1:28), and in the New Convenant mar-riage has been even raised to the dignity of a sacrarnent (Eph 5:25-32). St. Paul does not' condemn marriage in Chapter Seven SDissertations 3, 22, quoted in A. Robertson and A. Plummer, Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the First Epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians (Edinburgh: Clark, 1911), p. 158. 'Yet there were a few Stoic and Neoplatonic philosophers to consider celibacy as a higher state of life. See Epictetus, Disserta. tions 3, 22; 3, 26, 62. See also A. Oepke, "'Gun~," Theologische.; W6r. terbuch zum Neuen Testament, v. 1 (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1933), p. 779. But those views never resulted in a wide movement, creating special institutions as was .the case in India. of the First Epistle to the Corinthians; yet is he not in-fluenced by Hellenistic thought when advocating vir-ginity? What does he mean by the "freedom from the worldly cares" which virginity makes possible? Is it not the indifference and the disengagement from the material world which the philosophers, advocated?. Isqt not closer to the Stoic ataraxia or Neoplatonic ekstasis than to the Christian agape? Before attributing to Hellenistic infiltrations the argu-ments of Paul in the seventh chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, one should observe that such an ex-planation runs counter to the general patterns of Paul's thought and life. Paul did not consider salvation and re-ligious life as an escape from concrete realities. He has experienced ecstasy, but like all the genuine Christian mystics, he was more disturbed by it than proud of it.5 If he mentions his raptures, it is only to prove that he has a personal knowledge of what the boisterous charismatic Corinthians used to boast of. But himself, he would not glory in such things; his only pride is in his share in the humiliations of the cross (2 Cor 12:1-10). Ecstasy and deliverance from the material world were not Paul's ideal. His soul took easily to contemplation; yet he did not make of disengaged contemplation his su-preme goal. His life was surely not carefree in the sense that he had nothing to do but to meditate on the unseen realities, for was he not the missionary who had to carry "the daily burden, the worry for all the churches" besides "the labors, exertions, and persecutions" supported in carrying out his apostolate (2 Cot 11:23-27)? When he gave himself as an example of celibate life ("I would like that all of you should be like me" [1 Cor 7:7]), he did not set up a model of carelessness: "Who is weak and I am not weak? Who is scandalized and I am not on fire?" (2 Cor 11:29). Those were not the words or the attitude of a man indifferent to daily realities, lost in a nirvana of radi-cal abstraction. It is therefore a priori unlikely that the freedom from care which St. Paul saw in virginity had anything to do with the philosophical detachment from the material world. He does consider married life entangled in the world to be opposed to celibacy which is concerned only with the Lord. But does that contrast correspond to the Greek opposition of matter and spirit, kyl~ and nous? The answer must be negative. The biblical antithesis between the world (or the flesh) and God (or the Spirit) cannot be reduced to the philosophical dualism of matter and spirit. In the Bible the opposition of the world to s See C. Baumgartner, "Extase," in Dictionnaire de spiritualitd, v. 4 (Paris: Beauchesne, 1961), col. 2187-89. 4- 4- 4- Virginity VOLUME 22~ 1963 265 4. 4. 4. /. M.~.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 266 God is not ontological but moral: the world is not es-tranged from God by essence but by choice. Between the world and God there stands not a contradiction but a re-volt. Such is the clear teaching of the first chapters of Genesis. It is true that on account of man's sin, the whole order of the cosmos has been shaken: suffering and death have entered the world in the wake of sin. Yet though deeply marked by the curse of sin, the cosmos is not evil in itself; the trouble is in the heart of men, not in things.6 For centuries the prophets strove for the restoration of the original order through conversion; if only man would repent, he would recover "life" which is the harmony and peace of the original divine plan. When man proved too stubborn, the prophets understood that he was doomed. Sin was too deeply engrained in the world; death had to do its work; the present world with all its institu-tions had to be carried away. Yet since God is a God of mercy, hope remained. But it .turned into the hope of a new creation, of a salvation beyond death (Is 51:6; 65:17- 20; 66:22; Ez 37:1-14). It is this expectation of a world to come that the New Testament inherited. But that "world to come" or rather "the age to come," according to the exact meaning of the Hebrew phrase, is not the ethereal sphere of "ideas." Salvation does not consist in escaping the world but in passing from one world to another, from "this age" ruined by sin and enslaved by the "Powers" (Gal 4:3), to the "age to come" animated by the power of God's Spirit and irradiated with the divine glory. The aim of life is not "ecstasy" that would snatch man out of his body and above matter and time; it is an Exodus that takes him, body and soul, above the present condition and the corruption of sin. The image of the Exodus was frequent in the later prophets (Is 41:17-19; 43:19-20; 52:11-12) and passed to the New Testament (1 Cor 10:1- 11; Heb 2:1-4; 3:1-3; Apoc 15:1-5). Christian life is a pilgrimage (1 Pet 2:11). The Christian is a refugee run-ning from a doomed city to a place of shelter. Yet what he flees is not the flow of time but the contagion of sin and his refuge is not his spiritual self but God's kingdom. These were also Paul's views and they constitute the background of his apology for virginity. He does not op-pose marriage and continence as matter and spirit, good and evil. What he does contrast is the age to come and the present age. Virginity embodies the spirit of the king-dom; 7 marriage is rather an institution of this worhl. As Paul sees it in the First Epistle to the Corinthians, a,,For evil comes not out of the earth, nor does distress spring out of the g~ound. But man himself begets misery as sparks fly up-wards" (Jb 5:6-7). ~ See L. Legrand, "The Prophetical Meaning of Celibacy," REwEw voa l~tzc*ous, v. 20 (1961), pp. $$0-46. matrimony belongs to the "things of this world." It is not bad indeed but it is intimately connected with the present transient order. It shares in the inconsistency of this or-der; and like it, it is "subject to vanity," "enslaved to cor-ruption" that marks everything belonging to the present era (P, om 8:20-21). The world and its spirit are deeply ingrained in marriage; they enter married life through the very necessity for husband and wife "to please" each other (1 Cor 7:33-34). The verb "to please" in this context has a very strong meaning,s and Paul's thought cannot be properly grasped unless this meaning is recognized. For the modern reader, the words "to please one's husband and wife" evoke merely the sentimental show of affection and possibly of coquetry which expresses and fosters conjugal love. Con-sequently, when the text goes on to say that the married man "is divided" (v. 33), we think spontaneously of a heart divided in its affections in the modern romantic sense of the term. The difficulty for the married man would be that two different objects, Christ and his wife, appeal to his heart and that therefore he would be in the awkward position of being unable to give his love fully to either. This would be a very shallow explanation that hardly does justice to the views of the Apostle. After all, the love of God is not a matter of sensitivity; it belongs to a higher level and does not conflict with human natural feelings. God does not stand as a rival of His creatures if they do not try to usurp His place. The danger in wed-lock does not arise from a normal sentimental attachment to the partner; it lies elsewhere. The real meaning of the verb "to please" points in another direction. In a world which had little concern for chivalry and romanticism,0 more than coquetry and a show of affection were required "to please." The wife "pleased" her husband by giving him the children, he wanted (and birth control was not unknown in the Greco-P, oman antiquity10) and by con-a The Greek verb aresk6 may be very strong. Its connotations are not merely sentimental. In 1 Cor 10:13 Paul's desire "to please everybody" does not mean that he aims at popularity or that he avoids hurting the feelings of others. It expresses Paul's readiness to oblige, almost to serve all. It means about the same as "being all to all" (1 Cor 9:22). See W. Foerster, Theologisches W6rterbuch zum Neuen Testament, v. 1 (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1933), p. 455. ~ See J. Carcopino, Daily Li]e in ~lncient Rome (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1956), pp. 94-5; W. J. Woodhouse, "Marriage," Encyclo. pedia o[ Religion and Ethics, v. 8 (Edinburgh: Clark, 1915), p. 444. 10 See A. E. Crawley, "Foeticide," Encyclopedia o] Religion and Ethics, v. 6 (1914), pp. 55-6. Child exposure also was not uncommon. Polybius attributed the decline of Greece° to the oliganthropia caused by those practices: "In our own times the whole of Hellas has been afflicted with a low birth rate or, in other words, with de-population, through which the states have been emptied of inhabi-tants with an accompanying fall of productivity, and this in spite of + + + Virginity VOLUME 22~ 1963 267 ducting the household efficiently (with the concessions to the ways of the world which business implied),xl For the husband it was a matter of securing [or his wife wealth, comfort, and social consideration. "Pleasing" each other covered all the aspects of the conjugal life, everything that made a marriage successful. It is easy to understand that such worldly success implied all sorts of compromises with the spirit of the world. Through the desire "to please," "the worries of the world" (v. 33) entered mar-ried life, those worries which, according to the parable, combined with wealth and pleasures, choke the growth of God's word (see Lk 8:14). If St. Paul is reticent with regard to marriage, it is not because it distracts the heart but because it tends to shoot deep roots into the present age of sin. Those roots are so deep that it is very difficult to cut oneself free, to keep in wedlock the soul of a pilgrim and to live the Exodus. Conjugal affection is not contradictorily opposed to Chris-tian requirements; but great is the danger of remaining bogged down in the present condition of considering 4- 4- 4" L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 268 the fact that we have not suffered from any continuous wars or epidemics . The people of Hellas had entered upon the false path of ostentation, avarice, and laziness and were therefore becoming unwilling to marry, or if they did marry, to bring up the children born to them; the majority were only willing to bring up at most one or two, in order to leave them wealthy and to spoil them in their childhood; and in consequence of all this the evil had been rapidly spreading. Where there are families of one or two children, of whom war claims one and disease the other for its victim, it is an evident and inevitable consequence that households should be left desolate and that states, precisely like beehives, should gradually lose their reserves and sink into impotence" (History 36, 7 as given in A. J. Toynbee, Greek Civilization and Character [New York: New American Library, 1954], p. 73). Modem authors have confirmed the judgment of the old historian: "The misery of a few districts in the third and second centuries B.C. would not suffice to explain the excesses of malthusianism; indeed it had always been a part of Greek manners; but at that time it took frightening proportions. Though we should be cautious in giving a general value to a few figures known only through epigraphy, they are not without sig-nificance. At Miletus, for seventy-nine families which received the citizenship between 228 .and 200, we find only one hundred forty-six children, out of which only twenty-eight were gifts; among those seventy-nine families, thirty-one have two children and thirty-two only one. In the course of the third century at Eretria, one out of twelve families and at Pharsalus one out of seven has more than a son; out of six hundred families known through the inscriptions of Delphi, six only have two girls. Seeing that, we cannot doubt the accuracy of the famous statement of Poseidippos: 'Even a rich man always exposes a daughter'" (R. Cohen, La Grdce et l'helldnisation du monde antique [Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1948], p. ~80). n See the rather blunt statement of the Pseudo-Demo:;thenes (59, 122): "We have heterae for our pleasure, concubines for the daily care of the body, and wives to beget legitimate children and to have somebody who can be trusted with the care of the household." pleasure, family welfare, and honor as 'the absolute goal, of letting matrimony degenerate into a mere worldly af-fair. What one would attempt if one were alone, one dare not do for the sake of the other so that, actually, through the other party it is the world and its spirit which enter the family. Conjugal harmony is: kept at the c0st of con-descensions to the weakness found or supposed to exist in the other. It is harder still in wedlock than in single life to behave already now as a citizen of heaven, to follow the ideal of the beatitudes, to be poor and meek, to bear persecutions happily, to accept being famished and down-trodden. How rare the spiritual harmony that enables a whole household to meet the challenge of the kingdom joyfullyl As Bacon said, "he that hath wife and children hath given hostages to fortune" and "children sweeten labors but they make misfortunes more bitter.''12 It may be said that this picture of matrimony is one-sided, that Christian matrimony is not only "a thing of this world." It has also a reference to the world to come by its sacramental value. This is true and the point will be considered later.13 It is clear that to give a complete and balanced theological appraisal of matrimony, Paul should have said that it is in the measure in which it is not transformed by the di-vine agap~ that conjugal love divides the soul. He should have explained that for husband and wife the desire to please each other is wrong only if and as far as they rep-resent for each other not Christ but the world with its devious judgments and seductions. But in the seventh chapter of First Corinthians Paul does not intend to give a full theology of marriage. Either because he was still to appreciate fully the positive Chris-tian value of matrimony14 or simply because--as he often does--he simplifies his thought to express it more clearly, he considers only the "worldly" aspect of married life. This worldly aspect does exist. For all its sacramental value, marriage has one side turned towards the present age. It must have that worldly side to be a sacrament at all, to be a sign. And there is always a risk that it is only this aspect that will be seen by men and that they will set their heart on the sign instead of reaching out to the signified. Sacramental realities can also be veils. Thus ~ Quoted in A. Robertson and A. Plummer,°First Corinthians, p. 154. 13See the second half of the present article. l~This is the view of C. H. Dodd in New Testament Studies (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1953), pp. 113-17. The opposite stand is taken by O. Cullmann, The Early Church (London: SCM Press, 1956), p. 173; and by X. Leon-Dufour, "Mariage et con-tinence selon S. Paul," .4 la rencontre de Dieu: Memorial .41bert Gdlin (Le Puy: Mappus, 1961), pp. 319-28. 4. 4. 4. Virginity VOLUME 22~ 1963 269 4. 4. L. Legrand, M.E.P . REVIEW I:OR REI.I~IOUS 270 when receiving manna in the desert or the miraculous loaves of Jesus, the Jews considered only "the food that perisheth" (Jn 6:27) and dreamt of an earthly kingdom with an unlimited and toilless supply of bread, They failed to perceive in the bread the power of God's word feeding them unto the "life of the ages to come" (Jn 6:26- 40). Thus, as experience proves, married people are easily tempted to set their heart upon the present tenor of marriage and lose sight of its sacramental dimension. In First Corinthians, Chapter Seven, Paul referred to that common experience which had taught the Corinthians that married life is not easily a clear and limpid reflec-tion of the divine agape. Concretely, the necessity for husband and wife "to please" each other often entails compromises with the world; for, as St. Paul and the Corinthians knew well, it is hardly possible "to please" both man and Christ (Gal 1:I0). Hence appears the significance of the contrast Paul saw between marriage and virginity. Marriage is rooted in this world. Virginity belongs to the age to come. Marriage is not condemned. It does not embody the evil of this world; it can be redeemed and transfigured. Yet it is discouraged. This is not because it multiplies earthly obligations and petty worries restricting the men-tal freedom to meditate and contemplate. Neither is because it proposes objects of affection other than Christ. It is not wife and children which disturb men but their worldly--real or supposed--requirements. The danger of matrimony is that by the whole force of circumstances which surround it it tends to remain a "thing of this age" and to enfold men in the spirit of this world. By contrast, virginity is .the ideal condition of the pil-grim who wants to progress swiftly and unencumbered across the desert. Lightly shod and with loins girt, he goes on his Exodus; he leaves the world behind and strives after the world to come. He is undivided. This does not mean that his heart has nobody to beat for but Christ. On the contrary, his love for Christ will have to take on the dimensions of the whole Body of Christ and will have to encompass the world. It means that no human love, no necessity "to please" man, will oblige him to side with the world and place him in the stretched condition of one who belongs to both sides and is torn between two loyalties, two spirits, and two standards. He is free; he has no cares, at least no cares pertaining to this world. He does not know concerns which settled family life is almost bound to cause, concerns for wealth, comforts, safety, fame. He has not the problem of secur-ing welfare and tranquillity for his dear ones in a shaken world that runs to its ruin. The Christian celibate has none of these worries. This again does not mean that he has no cares at all and that he has nothing else to do than to devote himself to intellectual or ascetical pursuit. He has his cares, the "cares for the things of the Lord" (vv. 32, ~4). "The things of the Lord" which should l~'d the virgin's only concern are not the suprasensible ideas reached by contemplation. The "Lord" in St. Paul is the risen Christ, endowed with power a~d glory after His Resurrec-tion. 1~ "The things of the Lord" are therefore the whole order which has the risen Christ as its center, the new creation, the kingdom, and, here on earth, the Church.I° As in the case of the Apostle himself, the concern only for "the things of the Lord" will not mean ataraxia, in-difference. The Christian celibate will not be spared the heavy world and the burning preoccupations of his serv-ices to the Lord. But they will be only the outward mani-festation of his devotion to his Master (see 1 Cor 9:19). Such is the freedom of the virgin. It is not the indiffer-ence which is reflected, for instance, on the serene fea-tures of the gods of Phidias, with their clear eyes that ignore the turmoil of the world to rest on the harmony of the changeless ideas. We could rather feature the Christian dedicated to virginity as the Moses of Michel-angelo (without the gigantism which is the artist's own); there is no indifference in him; he looks firmly at the children of Israel who surround him and his eyes reflect the love of God for the chosen people but also the divine disappointment and wrath. Beyond them, he sees the Holy Land-or the mountain--where he must lead them. His muscular body strains towards it; his face glows with the glory that dawns upon it. Union with Christ The typology of the Exodus does not cover entirely the reality of Christian life. At the same time as it is an ~5,,This designation expresses as does no other the thought that Christ is exalted to God's right hand, glorified and now intercedes for us before the Father" (O. Cullmann, The Christology of the New Testament [London: SCM Press, 1959], p. 195). See also the several studies of L. Cerfaux gathered in Recueil Lucien Cerfaux (Gem-bloux: Duculot, 1954), v. !, pp. :~-188. A synthesis may be found in Cerfaux's Christ in the Theology of St. Paul (Edinburgh: Nelson, 1958), pp. 461-79. 1o The Vulgate and the Latin fathers have."idealized" the opposi-tion between marriage and virginity by reading in v. 32 "quornodo placeat Deo" (instead of KyriO of the Greek text) and probably understanding similarly in v. 34 Domini of God instead of Christ (as Knox has done in his translation). By doing this, they bring the contrast closer to Platonic thought. For Paul, the contrast is not directly between the world and God, creatures and Creator, but be-tween the world and the "things of Christ," that is the present world and the new creation which Christ contains in Himself. ÷ ÷ ÷ girginity VOLUME 22, 1963 4. L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Exodus, Christian life is also life in the Land of Promise. We are still in the desert; yet the glory of the new Jeru-salem dawns already upon us. We are still in the flesh and in the world; yet we live already in Spirit and are the citizens of heaven (Phil 3:20). Correspondingly, virginity does not belong only to the desert but also to the new Jerusalem. It does not show only the tenseness of the pilgrim who wants to be unim-peded in his progression; it marks also the joy of the ar-rival when the soul has found at last what it longed for. Celibacy is not only total detachment from "the things that are upon the earth"; it is also total communion in "the things that are above"; it is life, "hidden with Christ in God" (Col 3:1-8). Free from the world, the celibate ties himself to Christ with bonds of love. Having no wife or husband "to please," the celibate is at liberty to dedi-cate all his care "to please the Lord" (1 Cor 7:82). Here also, when St. Paul says that the aim of the virgin is "to please the Lord," we should beware of giving the phrase merely sentimental significance. "To please the Lord" does not mean simply to comfort and console the Heart of Jesus. In First Corinthians "to please the Lord" is set in parallelism with "to please his wife." This paral-lelism invites us to give the same strong meaning in both cases. In the context of matrimony, the verb "to please!' expressed the interdependence and mutual belonging husband and wife. When applied to the celibate, it must describe the loving enslavement to Christ which gives continence its value. The virgin belongs to Christ as the wife belongs to her husband. To please her husband, the wife must share entirely in his views and wishes. To please the Lord, analogically, the virgin must be totally dedi-cated to Him and take His stand in everything. The theme of the spiritual marriage lies in the background. The construction of the whole passage points 'to that theme: by balancing in parallelism virginal life and con-jugal union, Paul suggests that to some extent Christ is to the virgin what the husband is to the wife.lz ~ See X. Leon-Dufour, "Mariage et continence," pp. ~22-24. In a penetrating literary analysis of 1 Cor 7, the author shows that the very construction of the chapter expresses the mutual belonging of virginity and matrimony. The chapter is built on a scheme A-B-A' (two corresponding parts divided by a digression), quite common in Paul's epistles. Part A (vv. 1-16) is addressed to married people and part A' (vv. 25-40) to the unmarried. Now we notice that in both parts the progression of the thought is disturbed by considerations belonging to the antithetic section: A speaks already about virginity (vv. 6-7) and A' cannot but evoke matrimony "as if the continence to which Paul invites his flock could be given its full significance only in relation with married life" (p. 323). Thus "the very literary and psychological trend of the chapter shows marriage and conti-nence as two inseparable realities contrasting with and yet complet-ing each other" (p. 324). The theme of the spiritual marriage figures explicitly and is connected with virginity in Second Corinthians 11:2: I am jealous for you with a divine jealousy. Fo~ I betrothed you to one husband that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ. This verse is a short allegory comparing the Corinthi-ans to a betrothed girl taken to the bridegroom by her father or by the mesit~s, the go-between who arranged the marriage. The image derives from the Old Testament where Israel is frequently called the bride of Yahweh (see Hos 2:21-22; J1 1:8; Is 54:5-6; 62:5; Jer 3:1; Ez 16:6- 43). Admittedly this text does not refer directly to the question of virginity. As in the Old Testament, the bride is not an individual but a community, here the church of Corinth. Moreover, the marriage it alludes to will be celebrated only at the Parousia; for the time being, the Church is only "betrothed." In that context "virginity is nothing else than a metaphor expressing undivided dedi-cation to Christ.''is Yet it is not insignificant that Paul uses the comparison of a "chaste virgin" to describe the union of the Church with Christ. It implies that virginal life is a living likeness of that union. What was a mere metaphor in the Old Testament takes flesh and blood in the person of the virgin. She embodies fully the mutual belonging of Christ and the Church. The "marriage feast" of the Parousia is anticipated in her life. She is given to live in all its integrity the undivided attachment of the Church for her Head. In her shines the agap~ which joins the bride to the Bridegroom and makes them "one body." Virginity is agape; it has all the intensity of love; it is not primarily disengagement and withdrawal. It is unqualified dedication to the "one husband" Christ. It shows forth the exclusiveness of that unique attach-ment. As St. Paul says, using the language of human pas-sion, it is a "jealousy," a love impatient of any alien al-legiance. Christian virginity is a spiritual marriage with Christ. It is true that Paul himself did not use the phrase. Neither did Luke when explaining the relationship of the Virgin Mary with the Holy Spirit in the Gospel of Infancy. The reason is probably that Paul and Luke avoided sponta-neously words which, in the world they lived in, were too heavily loaded with pagan connotations. The hieros gamos, the sacred union of a god with a woman had been a common feature of mythology from Sumerian times on-wards and had its ritual representation in the cult and in the mysteries. In the frame of nature worship or of a ~sSee G. Delling, Theologisches W6rterbuch zum Neuen Testa-ment, v. 5 (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1954), p. 835. ÷ ÷ ÷ VirginRy ÷ ÷ L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 274 pantheistic religion, it symbolized the fecundity of na-ture. There is obviously no relation between the pagan fertility cult and the Christian ideal of continence fol-lowed by Mary and tl:te virgins. And it is understandable that Paul and Luke refrained from using the phrase "spiritual or divine marriage," since it could too easily be understood as another case of hieros garnos. That their prudence was justified is proved by the wild conclusions which the comparative school of exegesis, from the times of Celsus till our days, has drawn from the discreet allu-sions they made to the Biblical theme of God's alliance with Israel. Yet it is the allegory of marriage, stripped of any asso-ciation with nature worship, which accounts best for the Pauline and Christian doctrine of virginity. The doctrine of virginity branches of[ from the doctrine of matrimony. We must, therefore, see what marriage meant for Paul to understand what "spiritual marriage" might have meant for him if he had used the words, what he had actually in mind when he wrote of the "chaste virgin presented to the one husband Christ." It is in Ephesians 5:25-32 that the Apostle explains most fully the Christian significance of matrimony. It can be said that if the sev-enth chapter of First Corinthians pictured wedlock as it is in fact, Ephesians 5:25-32 shows it in all its ideal sacra-mental beauty. But the "lofty sacrament" opens on to the prospect of virginity. In Ephesians 5:25-32 as in Second Corinthians II:2, the Church is compared to the bride taken to the bride-groom for the nuptial celebration: Husbands, love your wife as Christ loved the Church: for her, he gave himself up, sanctifying her, cleasing her by water aild word, so that he might present the Church to himself all glori-ous, with no stain or wrinkle or anything of the sort but holy and without blemish. Thus men should love their wives. In this text there is no go-between. Christ Himself prepares His bride and there is a stress on the point that she was not pure but was made so by the cleansing love of the divine Spouse. That love which cleanses through the laver of baptism springs forth from the cross; the words "savior" and "he gave himself up" show the sacrificial background of Paul's thought. The cross was already the marriage function which Second Corinthians 11:2 had seen in the frame of the Parousia. It is on Calvary that the bride, cleansed by the love of her Spouse, W:lS em-braced by Him to become "one body" with Him. The greatness of Christian matrimony derives from its relation to the union of Christ with the Church which was realized on the cross. Conjugal love, that mysterious power which tears man and woman away from their fam-ily to draw them together (v. 31) was a sign, a "mystery." It had a hidden significance. In a secret way, it prefigured the love, the agap~ that seals together Christ and the Church and makes them one body (v. 32). The Old Testa-ment did not know this mysterious orientation of the conjugal union but now the mystery is revealed. If placed under the influence of 'the,sacrifice of Christ', that is, if it is lived in the spirit of unselfishness and dedication which breathed in the sacrifice of Christ, conjugal love sym-bolizes the bond of charity which unites the Church with her Head and contains the life flowing through their joint Body (vv. 23, 30). Penetrated with the spirit of Christ, matrimony enshrines the divine agape; it con-tinues the sacrifice of Calvary and its efficacy. By that sacramental efficacy and in the line of that symbolism, each party represents, for the other, Christ and His re-quirements of self-denying charity: husbands love their wives as Christ loved the Church and wives obey their husbands with the same joyful abandon which animates the Church (vv. 33, 22-25). In the measure in which con-jugal affection accepts to turn into charity, wedlock is holy and "has a relevance to Christ and the Church" (v. 32); indeed, it is a part of their mysterious union. Now, "lofty" as it may be, the "mystery" of Christian matrimony remains a sign, imperfect and inadequate as any sign. After all, in Ephesians 5:25-32 it. is not said that Christ loved the Church as a husband loves his wife, but rather that husbands should love like Christ: Con-jugal love does not explain the union of Christ for'the Church; on the contrary, this union reveals the latent significance of marriage. The agap~ of Christ is set as the ideal norm of human love: it is the reality whereas matri-mony is only its sacrament. Though the "mystery" it contained has been revealed, matrimony keeps its existence and its consistency of sign, as if the veil had not been removed but only pierced b~ a powerful light. The light shines through, the veil be-comes the medium of communication of the light; but it is still there; and, transparent as it may be, it may still absorb some of the light. Containing a significance and an efficacy pertaining to the world to come, matrimony keeps its earthly solidity and persists in its "this-worldly" existence. At the same time as it announces the eschato-logical marriage feast of the Lamb, it remains union in a flesh not yet transfigured by the Spirit.19 :~The point can be expressed technically in the theological lan-guage which distinguishes in the sacraments between the sacra. mentum tantum, the res tantum, and the reset sacramentum. In matrimony, the res is the divine agap~ sealing the unity of the Mys-tical Body as it seals Me conjugal cell. The sacramentum tantum is the conjugal union. Christian marriage is reset sacramentum: there is intercompenetration of the symbol and of the spiritual reality. Christian virginity on the contrary is the res tantum of matrimony. 4- 4- Virginity VOLUME 22, 1963 275 4. 4. 4. L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS We saw that it is that "worldly" aspect of matrimony which is responsible for its spiritual opacity.2° The spirit-ual reality may be absorbed in the worldly thickness of the "sign" and even in the most favorable cases when it is the most transparent, matrimony remains a sign, a re-flection, not the light itself. This sacramental value of matrimony is at the same time its greatness and imper-fection. The "mystery" is at once revealed through the screen, yet hidden in its worldly folds. Or, to take an image which is Paul's, it reflects the agap~ of the cross, but only in the cloudy and confused way of the old mir-rors of polished metal (see I Cor 13:12). Because it is a closer participation in the sacrifice of the cross, virginity represents better the agap~ which ani-mated it. It not only reflects that love, it embodies it. Virginity is not a sacrament. It does not set the screen of any sign between Christ and man. In it, the divine love is not refracted through the mediation of any "worldly" feeling. There is nobody who stands for Christ to repre-sent Him; the contact is direct between Christ and the bride. Matrimony is turned towards the agap~ of the sacrificed Christ as towards its fulfillment; virginity com-munes directly in that agap& The agap~ lived in matri-mony was mediated charity; virginity is agap~ reaching directly its object. In the words of the Roman liturgy: While no prohibition lessens the dignity of marriage and while the nuptial blessing resting on matrimony is safeguarded, nevertheless there will be nobler souls who, spurning the carnal union entered into by man and wife, strive after the mystery it signifies ([astidirent connubiura, concupiscerent sacramentura). Without imitating what takes place in matrimony., they devote their entire love to the mystery signified by marriage (nec imi-tarentur quod nuptiis agitur, sed diligerent quod nuptiis pr~,e-notatur).~ 1 Virginity is the plentitude of agapO; it shows forth the reality that matrimony contains only in a veiled way. It is the full revelation of the "mystery" still half hidden in sacramental marriage.22 Like the love of the Spouse in the Canticle, the agapd of the celibate is a blazing fire, a flame of Yahweh (see Cant 8:6).23 This fire of love makes of virginal life a holo- ~o See the first part of the present article. .-a Preface of the Consecration of Virgins in the Roman Pontifical. We fellow the translation given in L. Munster, Christ in His Conse-crated Virgins (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1957), pp. 131-2. ="To be living images of the perfect integrity which forms the bond of union between the Church and her divine Bridegroom is assuredly the supreme glory o~ the virgin" (Plus XII, Sacra Vir-ginitas). = We follow for this text the translation of A. Robert, L~ Can-tique des cantiqu~s (Paris: Cerf, 1951), p. 58. caust in which the "flesh" is burnt up and with it any sign, any reality of the present world. Virginity is love impatient of the mediation of any symbols. In that re-spect too, it is analogous to the sacrifice of the cross: the death on the cross was a sacrifice without rites because in its utter despoliation all the.symbolical realities of the world came to an end; there remained only the naked corpse on the bare wood in a total holocaust of anything belonging to this world. Virginity too is a festivity with-out rites, a marriage feast celebrated without any exter-nal rejoicings because, as the cross and in it, this marriage is consummated and consumed in a holocaust of self-denying love that raises it above this world. It is in that sense that virginity is a spiritual marriage. It is a marriage: in the phrase "spiritual matrimony," the adjective does not obliterate the noun. Virginity is a thing of love, total communion to the divine agap~ which is the essence of the life of Christ and of life in Christ. That marriage is spiritual. Spiritual does not mean metaphorical. The spiritual union of Christ with the vir-gin is not a vague likeness of the conjugal union. It is rather the opposite; virginity gives the true picture of real love in all its intensity and purity. Neither is it spiritual in the Platonic sense of the term. It does not correspond to a chimerical dream of abolition of the flesh. In virginity the flesh is accepted as it was in the Incarnation. But it is sanctified, transformed as the flesh of Jesus was in His glorification. The glorification does not delete the Incarnation; it fulfills it. Virginity is no negation of the flesh but its consecration. The virginal union with Christ is spiritual in the bib-lical sense of the term. It shows man's transformation by the power of the Spirit. The Spirit, the divine force that animates the new creation, takes possession of man's body and soul, freeing them from "the shackles of corruption" to give them "the glorious liberty of the children of God." And the transforming force which the Spirit implants in the virgin is the charity of God (Rom 5:5), the flame of love which, coming from God, consumes the flesh of the virgin and transmutes it into the likeness of the "spiritual flesh" of the risen Christ (1 Cot 15:45-49). The New Testament does not explicitly call virginity a spiritual marriage. Yet its doctrine of marriage and its exhortations to virginity converge towards that theme because both states of life refer to the mysterious con-nubial union of Christ and the Church which marriage prefigures and virginity embodies. Linked by that com-mon relation to the mystery of Christ, virginity and matri-mony are intimately connected. Matrimony moves to- + + + Virginity VOLUME 22, 1963 4. 4. 4. L. Legrand, M .E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS wards a virginal type of love as towards its fulfillment, and virginity is nothing but the full realization of that which is prefigured in marriage. The best exposition of the spiritual meaning of Chris-tian virginity would be, therefore, a Christian transposi-tion of the Canticle of Canticles, the nuptial song of the Old Testament.~4 The liturgy, the fathers of the Church, and the mystics have understood it spontaneously and have repeatedly made of the Canticle the epithalamium of the Christian life dedicated to the Lord. From Origen's homilies on the Canticle to the com-mentary of St. Bernard and the Spiritual Canticle of St. John of the Cross, it would be easy to compose a mag-nificent anthology in which the best of Christian elo-quence and lyricism would figure. As a sample of what this anthology would contain, it is difficult to resist the temptation of quoting at least extracts of the hymn with which Methodius concludes his Symposium on Chastity. The Ten Virgins who have taken part in the symposium conclude their discussion with the triumphal chorus: For Thee, I keep myself chaste, and with a lighted torch in hand, 0 my Spouse, I come to meet Thee. And the stanzas follow each other, composed by Thecla, the most eloquent among them: From above, O virgins, there came the sound of a voice that raises the dead. It says: Hasten to meet the Bridegroom in white robes and with lamp in hand. Turn to the East. Arise lest the King should precede you at the gates. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself .'. For Thee, O King, spurning a rich home and the embrace of mortals, I came in spotless robes, to enter with Thee within tile bridal chambers. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself. In my eagerness for Thy grace, O Lord, I forget my own country. I forget the dances of my companions, the desire even of mother and kindred, for Thou, 0 Christ, art all things to me. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself. 0 blessed bride of God, thy couch do we adorn with hymns. And we praise thee, O Church, immaculate virgin, pure like snow, wise, undefiled, lovely. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself. Open thy gates, O resplendent queen, and take us too within the bridal room. O spotless and triumphant bride, breathing ~ Such transposition is not too distant from the literal sense if it is accepted that in its literal sense the Canticle is an allegory of the convenant relationship of Yahweh with Israel. See A. Robert, Le Cantique, pp. 7-23; also A. Feuillet, Le Cantique des cantiques (Paris: Cerf, 1953). beauty, behold we stand round Christ, clad like Him, singing thy nuptials, O happy maiden.~ The canticle of Methodius weaves a web of biblical themes. The bride of the Canticle and of Psalm 45 has joined the Bridegroom of the parable (Mr 27:.!-13). The voice that arouses the Ten~Vii-gihs is tha(.~vhich had called Abraham and invited him to leave "home and kindred" for the first Exodus to Canaan (Gn 12:1). It is also the voice that raised Christ from the dead. The nup-tial procession is at the same time an Exodus and an As-cension that takes the Church and the virgins to the bridal chamber of the King. There is more in that text than fanciful allegory; the profusion of biblical allusions shows a thought deeply rooted in biblical ground. The hymn echoes Paul's call to virginity, Though amplified, the exhortation of the Apostle is rendered faithfully. The attitude and the bliss of the Ten Virgins corresponds exactly to the ideal proposed by Paul to the Corinthians of a life "free from worldly worries" to be spent "waiting upon the Lord without distraction" (1 Cot 7:35). ~Patrologia Graeca, v. 18, col. 208-9. A substantial part of the hymn is quoted and translated in J. Quasten, Patrology, v. 2 {Utrecht: Spectrum, 1953), pp. 4, ÷ ÷ VOLUME 22~ 196;~ 279 SISTER MARY CELESTE, S.M. The Virtue of Mercy Sister Mary leste, $.M., is on the faculty of the Col' lege of Our Lady of Mercy; 2300 Ade-line Drive; Burlin-game, California. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS As the good news of Christ continues to be heralded, classrooms in Catholic schools rapidly mushroom into being and innumerable extra rows of desks are squeezed into innumerable older rooms; CGD classes flourish; hos-pital beds are filled; homes for the aged, the mentally ill, the delinquent, the abandoned and helpless have long waiting lists; clinics are daily crowded to capacity. The works of mercy are literally endless. Yet precisely for that reason, their true purpose must be all the more clearly understood if the pitfall of activism is to be avoided. This is especially necessary for the sister whose community is officially sent by the Church to bear witness to Christ in the ministry of mercy. She is responsible, in whatever way her individual position allows, to see to it that the works are authentically merciful ones--that they are per-meated through and through with the spirit of Christ's mercy. This means that she must know well what mercy is and how it is incarnated in her own apostolic action. If we follow the fruitful approach of St. Thomas in striving to gain. some insight into the nature of mercy, we will begin not with an abstract definition of it but rather with the concrete existential situation in which a merciful person finds scope for his activities. We may then analyze the kind of response that is given in such a situation, and finally we may ask what kind of person is needed for these works--one who will respond merci-fully. Since mercy, according to St. Thomas, is a virtue,1 this last question involves asking about the particular habit-patterns of virtue which must be integrated into the personality of one who is merciful. But since it also entails a rather complex group of associated virtues and supporting habits, we must examine this structure in some detail in order to find out precisely what kind of effort is needed to build such habits and thus to develop most effectively the virtue of mercy. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.3. Starting-Point: the Misery of Man First, let us turn to the concrete situation. Where does a person inspired by mercy find a ready field for the driv-ing impulse of this spirit? Always~ it is in a need. But it is not just any need; not physical need alone, although this may be part of it. There must be a specifically human need: a situation in which man finds himself in misery, falling short of what he needs to attain his human fulfill-ment. 2 Ultimately, this fulfillment lies in his beatific union with God; and therefore his most radical misery is his sinfulness. All unhappiness stems from this. But in addition to guilt before God, human misery vitiates every facet of existence: it is the old problem of evil in the world of the sons of Adam. The stimulus for mercy, then, is human distress. It is man faced with the impossibility o[ attaining the true happiness for which he is destined,n It is Job buffetted by Satan; it is the unfaithful wife of Hosea in her willful waywardness; it is the thief dying on the cross. In our own day, in a far more sophisticated and complex civili-zation, the misery of man takes on the most piteous of forms--all the heavy trials that burden man's physical life and his mind and spirit; inadequacy and weakness and guilt of all kinds; confusion of the young who idealis-tically grope for vague goals yet are shackled by luxury and habits of indecision; bitterness, bewilderment, neg-lect and persecution, even just punishment; and espe-cially, the despair of those who have given up the search for happiness. It is man in misery, lacking what he needs for the fulfillment of his humanness in union with God. The Works of Mercy: Response to Misery What response does misery evoke in the merciful? It inspires and stimulates the work of carrying out into ef-fective action whatever will i-eally remove the defects which stand in the way of another person's happiness. God Himself is called merciful because oust of His loving kindness He actually takes away the miseries of man.4 Especially by His redemptive Passion and Resurrection, Christ delivered man from the greatest of miseries; and in this act God showed more abundant mercy than if He had forgiven sins without asking satisfaction, for He actu-ally went to the trouble, as it were, of doing something personal and positive to remedy the situation.5 So, too, a merciful person does all he can to dispel the misery of another. *Summa Theologiae, I, q.21, a.4. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.1. Summa Contra Gentiles, 1, c.91. Sumlna Theologiae, 3, q.46, a.l, ad 3. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mercy VOLUMI: 22, 1963 2~! + Sister Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 282 This means that certain external works are necessary in order to communicate the good things which the dis-tressed person lacks,e St. Thomas classes these works un-der the heading of "almsgiving," and divides them ac-cording to the kind of need that cries out for relieL Some needs are concerned with the maintenance of physical life: food, clothing, shelter, care in sickness, freedom from slavery of all sorts. But man is not merely a physical thing; so proper respect must be given the body destined for resurrection, and his spiritual needs must be relieved by prayer, instruction, and counseling. The sorrowful must be encouraged and the wayward corrected and pardoned.7 It is within the context of the active life, therefore, that the merciful person directly ministers to the needs of his neighbor.S He carries out into the realm of action the teaching of St. John to love not in word or tongue only but in deed and in truth (1 Jn 3:18). Such response to misery in the works of mercy is easily observable in the lives of the founders of religious insti-tutes which flourish today. We are so familiar with the details of our own founder's work that we tend to forget the amazing range of misery with which he was con-fronted. In fact, no individual, however energetic, can possibly cope with the vast extent of human ills that come within his vision. Thus it was a natural development that, under the leadership of a great person, others shar-ing his spirit formed themselves into a group in order to accomplish what they could not do as individuals. The work of schools, hospitals, institutions for the care of the poor and aged and delinquent in turn necessitated the organization of a religious community which would be inspired by the vital spirit of its founder and would as-sure continuity to the works. A community of itself, however, is not enough. Though the outward forms of human misery may change with time and place, its essence is as universal as wounded hu-manity itself. And in her universal compassion, Mother Church incorporates the community as a living member within herself. Through the major superior as her repre-sentative, the Church receives the vows by which an in-dividual religious is totally committed to Christ. In turn, she gives to the community an official mandate to carry out the works of mercy as part of her own universal apos-tolate of bringing all men to union with God in Christ. This goal is identical with that of the perfection o1! hu-man happiness for all men, the ultimate obliteratic.,n of human misery. Therefore, every member of a community nSumma Theologiae, 2-2, q.32, a.5. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.32, a.2 and 3 ~Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.188, a.2; De Caritate, a.8; De Per- [ectione Vitae Spiritualis, c.13. whose very raison d'etre is the Church's works of mercy must be essentially dedicated to the active life of service. Within the framework of her religious life, the sister must minister to the poor, the sick, those in need of instruc-tion and care. If she does not carry out her share with complete personal dedication,, she .not only,, fails to be a merciful individual and thwarts the united endeavor of her community but in a real sense hinders the very work of Christ in His Church. The Merci]ul Person As active religious, then, it is essential that we become the kind of person who will respond to human misery in a way that will really bring about its relief and thus ef-fect the happiness of our fellow man in his union with God. Our vocation is to be a merciful person. What is meant by saying that we want to become a certain kind of person? It is a fact that at entrance into religious life, we are already possessed of a distinctive personality; and personalities vary greatly. Of course, these differences will remain. But when we become a re-ligious, we do intend to become someone in a way that we were not before. We intend to grow into an attitude, to take on a new quality and direction of endeavor which is characteristic of our community. We express this in-tention by saying that we want to have the spirit of the community, to incorporate into our personality that par-ticular aspect of Christian spirituality which is best suited to the apostolic work proper to this community. This means that we consciously try to cultivate those habitual ways of acting which characterize the merciful person. We want, in other words, to acquire the habit, the virtue of mercy.° Human virtue, according to St. Thomas, is an opera-tive habit disposing a man to good action.1° As strictly human, it cannot be merely an automatism which, oni:e acquired, allows us to carry on action in a quasi-mechani-cal and unthinking way, like tying our shoelaces,it Virtue is a mastery-habit, demanding attention and free adher- ~ In this discussion we are speaking of moral virtue as perfecting human powers insofar as it is acquired by our own efforts. It is commonly taught that, in addition, there are "infused moral vir-tues," which complement the acquired ones and come with sanctify-ing grace and charity. lOSumma Theologiae, 1-2, q.55, a.2 and 3. 1, Servais Pinckaers, O.P., "Virtue Is Not a Habit," Cross Cur-rents, v. 12 (Winter, 1962), p. 68. "To define virtue as a habit would seem necessarily to be making man into a pure automaton, and to be depriving his action of its properly human value." The author here clearly limits his meaning of "habit" to "automatism,,' and does not take the word to include "mastery-habit" as we have done here. ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR REL[GIOUS 284 ence of the will, manifesting an interiority and personal commitment in each action.12 The virtues we acquire be-come, as it were, a second nature to us, wellsprings of good actions which strengthen and dispose our human powers for realizing their specific goodness. Thus, without sacri-ficing individuality, members of a community strive to acquire a perfecting habit which exercises a distinctive influence as the "spirit" of their work. As soon as we begin to ask what mercy is, it becomes obvious that we cannot deal with it as an isolated virtue. In the practical order, of course, this is true of any virtue. Mercy in action requires a whole complexus of related virtues, a patterned grouping of habits to support it. It requires at the same time a principle of unity by which these habits are integrated into the structure of one's per-sonality and can function in cooperation for a common end. Because of the many strenuous and complex de-mands made by the external works of mercy, a sister whose life is dedicated to such worlds will be gravely en-dangered by a lack of unity in her person. But conversely, her life will be all the richer and more fruitful if it is consciously balanced and ordered toward a unified goal. This is especially crucial for a woman. Psychologically, a woman's strength lies not so much in the mastery of a single field as it does in the integrating power which weaves a widespread variety of human activities into a coherent wholeness. In the life of a sister engaged in works of mercy, the pattern of wholeness--that is, of those vir-tues and habits of action which are consciously acquired during the formative years of religious life--is specifically focused on the kind of situation which should evoke mercy: namely, that of human misery. In the responding compassion of the merciful woman, every power of her human personality is engaged. For one whose vocation it is to be thus dedicated and whose calling as religious includes the essential obliga-tion to strive for maturity and full effectiveness in the apostolate, it is important to know clearly how her pow-ers can be unified and perfected for merciful action so that such action comes as it were by second nature, ha-bitually. Everyone has the powers. The crux of the mat-ter is the question of virtue and of the subordinate good habits conducive to virtuous action. Here finally we come to the virtue of mercy in its plenary context: as a kind of master-habit toward whose perfect operation the ac-tivities of other human powers are directed by subordi-n See George P. Klubertanz, S.J., The Philosophy o! Human Nature (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1953), pp. 272-97. The content of this paper owes much to further developments of these ideas in a course on Thomistic theory of moral character given by Fr. Klubertanz. nate habits. The mature personality of the religious is stabilized (but by no means stereotyped) and made apt for merciful action by the unified structuring of these interrelated habits. The Perception oI Misery The initiation of actual response to misery is the recog-nition of it. This seems obvious. Yet there are facets of misery which are not so obvious that they are recognized by everyone; and there are degrees of awareness among those who do recognize that there is some need. The sister who aims to acquire the virtue of mercy must ask: How can human misery be most keenly perceived? How ca, n insight into unhappiness be developed and deepened? There is no question, first of all, of "training" our eyes and ears; whatever we see, we see, and getting glasses to perfect our vision is not habituation at all but only an aid to the proper actual functioning of our sense o1: sight. The perception of unhappiness is rather a matter of noticing, of paying attention to those elements within our range of vision which carry meaning. To do this, the powers of imagination, sense memory, and estimative sense must be developed under the guidance of reason so that one habitually notices the kind of detail that is rele-vant. Some accumulation of experience is necessary here. For a young religious endeavoring to build the needed habits, it will be very helpful to have the guidance of an experienced person who can direct her interested atten-tion to the minute aspects of a human situation that bear on unhappiness--the tensing of a cheek muscle, the slight threadbareness of a sleeve, the brittleness of a laugh. What is sometimes vaguely referred to as "intuition" or "hunch" is, more precisely, the focusing of awareness on the material hints and expressions of poverty, ignorance, guilt, pain, confusion, weakness, of any form of human evil. Watching for these hints and observing others more adept at noticing them, we may improve and control our sensitive knowing powers for discerning and evaluating concrete situations of misery. But human misery is not something that can be sensed. It is an intelligible reality that must be understood and judged. A sharpened sensitivity to the material signs of misery will develop only with the growing realization of their meaningfulness in the lives of those we desire to help. In order to read the language of these signs, then, certain acts of intellectual understanding must concur with the functioning of the sensory powers. A mutual re-lationship exists here: by our intellect we comprehend the imeaning in the material image, and this understanding in turn is a guideline for our imaginative and estimative + ÷ ÷ VOLUME 22, 1962 285 + ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Celeste, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS powers to furnish and elaborate precisely those images which bear a meaning-content relevant to merciful ac-tion. How is facility for such intellectual acts acquired? It seems evident that there must be some serious and con-sistent meditation on the human goal of beatitude and on the nature of sin which is the chief obstacle to achiev-ing that goal. The object of mercy is hierarchized accord-ing to the goods which God loves in man and "desires" for him; hence, there must be true judgments about the relative value of various deficiencies in such goods. Sin is the supreme evil, and effective compassion for the sinner is the most merciful act. After this come the many ills concomitant with the sinfulness of man--injustice, preju-. dice, war, poverty, oppression. To judge of these evil~; clearly, a study of the social and behavioral science~ would seem at least highly desirable if not necessary. Complementary to these disciplines, the development of an appreciation for great literature will aid the sister in observing concrete instances of misery and its tragic ef-fect in human lives. In short, a truly liberal education with theology as its core ought to contribute much to tile degree in which the object of mercy is perceived. To keep the proper perspective, we must renew these judgments with conviction until they crystallize into our permanent outlook. But it is not only the object of mercy which must be judged; we ourselves must reflect on how we stand in relation to the action that we are doing. A realistic evaluation of our own position, motivated by concern for the one in need, must include the conviction that we likewise are immersed in the conditions of hu-manity and that therefore whatever good we are able to communicate to others is first a gift to us. The lack of this conviction is pride; and the vice of pride is a direct ob-stacle to the practice of mercy. The proud are without mercy, St. Thomas tells us, because they despise others and think them deserving of the sufferings they have to undergoA~ John Kuskin has stated well the kind of self-judgment that a merciful person makes: I believe that the test of a truly great person is humility. I do not mean by humility doubts about his own ability. But really great men-have a curious feeling that greatness is not in them but through them and they . see something divine in every other man and are endlessly, foolishly, and ~ncred~bly merciful. Sensitivity to Suffering Though perception of misery is the first requisite of the act of mercy, its essence is in the affective response to misery. For the clarity of perception itself depends basi- Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.2 ad 3. cally upon the concern we have for aiding another. Now concern for another is a matter of love. Human love, like human knowledge, is a unified act engaging the whole person, spiritual and physical. To love someone humanly, it is natural that our feelings should concur with our willing of his good However, there is an initial difficulty in the matter responding to unhappiness: the first impulse in the face of misery is to shun it, for we are naturally attracted to what is pleasant and try to avoid what is evil. Do the sen-sitive appetites, then, have any part in the act of mercy? First of all, we may note that the perception of someone else's misery may provoke one of two contrary attitudes in us. There may be a detached unconcern for an evil that in no way affects us at present, together with the hope that the unpleasantness of seeing another suffer will be quickly removed and forgotten. On the other hand, there may be a reaction of sympathy, a feeling of sorrow for the distressed person. This latter movement"of the sensitive appetite is the act of pity.1~ Now considered on the sensitive level alone, an act is neither virtuous nor morally bad because it is not yet a human act. Can we say, then, that it does not matter which attitude a person has, as long as he is influenced by spiritual love? And further: might it not be better to remain, as far as pos-sible, emotionally uninvolved? If we let our feelings run away with us, there is danger that' sentimentality will govern our actions; and this is not a good. To answer the question of the role of sensitivity in mercy, we may first point out a negative aspect. The dangers of sentimentality should not be minimized; there is a definite risk taken. There is a kind of undesirable emotional involvement which consists in identifying one-self with the patient or one in need to the extent that his anxiety, confusion, and helplessness are communicated to us instead of being relieved by us. This would be equiv-alent to becoming a beggar in order .to .help beggars, and thereby cutting off the very possibility of saving anyone from the misery of beggarhood. Because of warnings about such risks, young religious sometimes fear to admit to themselves that they do feel grief or anxiety for others, that they are really affected by seeing suffering and pov-erty. It would be helpful, when such is the case, to reflect on the consequences of this outlook. Fear of danger leads naturally to avoidance of the dangerous occasion. In this instance, the sister may unconsciously tend to avoid those situations which arouse her feelings of pity, and in so doing is avoiding the very misery toward which mercy is 1~ Sum~na Theologiae, 1-2, q.35, a.8. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mer~y VOLUME 22, 196~ 287 ÷ ÷ ÷ Si~ter Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS directed. This obviously is not the way to develop the virtue of mercy. A further reflection on the conditions sentimentality would help to alleviate her fears. For pity will never degenerate into sentimentality when its exer-cise is buttressed with the clarity of intellectual vision and intensity of spiritual love required by an act of true mercy. Emotional involvement with those in misery, when incorporated into this virtuous (and hence, controlled) act, will never cause a loss of interior peace, patience, and trust in divine Providence. From the positive point of view, sensitivity to suffering of others should be regarded as a real asset, integral to the practice of mercy. St. Augustine says that mercy is heartfelt sympathy for another's distress, impelling us help him if we can.15 The Latin word for mercy, miseri-cordia, denotes sorrow of heart (miserura cordis) or com-passion for the unhappiness of another as though it were one's own.1. Of course, temperamental dispositions differ and solne persons are more sensibly affected than others; but the emotion of sorrow is a universally human one, and to some extent every human person feels it. Being moved with sorrow for another, we are more likely to do an act of mercy for him. Freely to take on sorrow for a misery that is not our own, to let ourselves be hurt when this is not a necessity, requires a special habit to strengthen our natural sen.,;tendency to fear and reject evil. The virtue of forti-tude is this habit, enabling us to face and accept the diffi-culties of personally assuming the suffering involved compassionate response to misery. This virtue is at the same time a guarantee against sentimentality and a bul-wark to fortify us throughout the consequent difficulties of carrying mercy into practical action. Courage to sympathize, to co-suffer with the unhappy, results also in a keener insight into the depth of misery. One's personal experience of vicarious suffering is the basis for a connatural knowledge which cannot be had on a purely speculative level. No matter how much we contemplate the social conditions of poverty and the par-ticular details of this family's wretched plight, we cannot really know what their misery is unless it affects us in our whole being: unless our judgment is swayed by a concern that is at once a willed and a felt love. In order to under-stand how the redeeming love of God works providen-tially in the "crooked lines" of evils in the human con-dition, we must feel ourselves within this condition. An habitual sensitivity to the suffering of others, habit of pity, is therefore an integral part of the total St. Augustine, De Civitate Dei 9.5. Summa Theologiae, I, q.21, a.3; 1-2, q.35, a.8; 2-2, q.30, a.l. pattern of mercy because the feeling of compassion is al-ready the directing of the sensitive appetites toward the object of mercy.1~ While not itself a virtue in the com-plete sense, pity contributes the "matter" as it were of the total response, being given its "form" or determining specification as virtue by the complementary tendency of merciful love in the will. Because of the dynamic influ-ence of this love, channeled and controlled by right judg-ment, the emotion of pity as a fully human response is truly virtuousJs It gives an intensity to the impulse of mercy to relieve the distress so keenly felt. Charity: the Source ol Mercy Formally and essentially, the act of mercy is a special kind of willed love. Whatever may be the absence or presence, the strength or weakness of supporting habits and virtues in other powers, the absolute requirement for mercy is the free and deliberate choice to love another who is in need. We make this choice as the radical orien-tation of our lives in accepting a religious vocation to an institute whose commission from the Church is to carry out her works of mercy. Thereby we accept the solemn obligation to reinforce by repeated acts what is implicit in this orientation: that is, to develop the habitual facility or virtue for good and effective action most properly be-longing to such an institute. What kind of love is the essence of mercy? In the first instance, this love must be benevolence: a willing of good for the sake of the person about whom we are concerned. It must be completely other-directed, outgoing. Religious are greatly aided in developing unselfishness in love by the numerous opportunities in community living to show thoughtfulness and consideration for others. The mani-festations of such concern are by no means of merely pe-ripheral importance, for a deficiency in love is a defi-ciency in the essence of mercy. Even on the sensitive level, pity is directed not to oneself but to another,a9 A selfish act is a disordered love-choice not only different from but contradictory to the choice of loving mercifully. There-fore, any habitual selfishness, no matter how slight it is or how trivial its object, will be a direct obstacle to de-veloping the virtue of mercy. The subjective aspect of benevolence--that is, true de-sire of good for another--must be complemented by its objective counterpart: desire for another of what is truly 1*St. Thomas notes that the reason why God forbad cruelty to animals in the Old Testament was that even pity for the suffering of animals makes a man better disposed to take pity on his fellow man. Summa Theologiae, I-2, q.102, a.6 ad 8. XSSumma Theologiae, 1-2, q.59, a.l ad 3; 2-2, q.$0, a.$. ~ Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.l ad 2. 4. + 4. VOLUME 22, 196~ 289 ÷ ÷ Sister Mary ~eleste, $3tL REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS good. Ultimately, the true good of man is his perfect hap-piness in union with God. When we desire that a person have what is needed for this, our benevolence toward him is charity. It should be remembered that the dual precept of charity in no way detracts from its nature as a single virtue; by charity, God is loved both as supreme good in Himself and as the goal of human striving. Thus when we love another in charity, we desire for him the beati-tude toward which we also aim. The attainment of this common goal, uniting us in a social bond as fellow viatores, is hindered by our misery. Therefore, if we love God and desire that all men be united with Him, our charity will (as nearly as this is possible) be a love patterned on His. We will not seek in others what we lack and not merely respond to a goodness in others which we find there. Rather, out of the abun-dance of love, we will be able to confer on others a good-ness which we do not find, which we ourselves only hold as a gift in the first place. We will aim to relieve their misery. This is Christian love. If Christianity has been a civilizing influence in the world, it is because, as Da-ni~ lou writes, civilization is "a state of human life in which individual man is accorded his due of respect and love, being loved the more in proportion as he may be defenseless, lonely, or unlucky.''20 Since charity is the essence of Christian perfection, it is afortiori the virtue par excellence of the religious who is bound by vow to strive for Christian perfection. In the religious state, the vows are means to this goal. The pur-pose of poverty is to free one's love from attachment: to material things, for our finite human affections cannot be fully concentrated on God if they are tied down. by many physical concerns. Charity is also hindered by an excessive craving for pleasures of the flesh which prevent the development of spiritual love. Chastity does not stamp out or distort the humanness of love but univer-salizes it so that the concern of the heart may extend to all persons. Charity is hindered most of all by the in-ordinate willing of one's own independence. Obedience especially makes the sister a sharer in community effort which is part of the Church's mission of mercy i'n the world. Thus the specific way in which charity is de-veloped in a religious is intrinsically influenced by the spirit and virtue of poverty, chastity, and obedience as directly oriented to the perfecting of spiritual love: The immediate effect of charity as the benevolent love by which we desire for others their happiness in union with God is our own bond of union with them, a special and personal kind of belonging. "It is the nature of di- Jean Dani~lou, Lord oI History (Chicago: Regnery, 1958), p. 66. vine charity," St. Thomas writes, "that he who loves in this way should belong not to himself but to the one loved.''zl In belonging to another, we take on vicariously whatever is his lot, suffering included. We feel it our-selves even though the misery is'not radically our own.m Thus God Himself is said~to pity us because of His love by which He regards us as belonging to Him33 This note of belonging to the one loved may be re-garded from another aspect also. We see that the virtue of charity is perfected in three "dimensions." First, its extent must be universal, including all persons.destined for beatific union with God. Secondly, its intensity is measured by the hardships one is willing to endure for the sake of those loved, even to the point of laying down one's life. Finally, its effects are seen in the gifts of good-ness bestowed: not only in material things, not only in spiritual benefits, but even in the total personal dedica-tion of oneself.~4 Pondering this last "dimension" of charity, we recall that human love is humanly symbolized in gift-giving. The extent and intensity of love is externally shown by the value of the gift bestowed. There are degrees in the alms of mercy just as in any gift, for mercy is always freely given love, Ministering to the physical needs of another is the first and most evident degree, siv.ce man cannot fittingly strive for spiritual goals if he does not have what is needed materially for a decent human life. On a higher level, there are spiritual benefits which do not exceed the natural human capacity for giving: for instance, the com-munication of truth reached by human insight and evi-dence. But of more value still are those goods which are truly supernatural, such as divinely revealed truth or the grace of the sacraments. One who bestows on others gifts of this kind practices a singular perfection of brotherly love, for it is directly by means of these gifts that man at-tains union with God.2" A gift, however, remains but a symbol. That which is signified is the interior disposition of love which is in the person the motivating source from which his action flows. The true worth of a gift can only be judged by the extent to which the giver's love has been concretized in the per-sonal act of donation. The more fully the whole person must be involved in this act, the more apt this particular kind of action is for expressing an intense and universal love. Now the works of mercy not only give scope for a De Perlectione Yitae Spiritualis, c.lO. Summa Theologiae, 9-2, q210, a.2. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.2 ad 1. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.18,1, a.2 ad 8. De Per]ectione Yitae Spiritualis, c.14. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mercy VOLUME 22~ 196.~ 291 4. 4. 4. Sister Mary Celeste, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 292 complete engagement of the giver, but when they really spring from charity they absolutely require this total dedication. For merciful love is redemptive. It means taking on the misery of another in order to heal and strengthen and lift up; and this can only be accomplished by the involvement of one's whole being and energy. For a woman, this total personal dedication to serving the needs of another is the fulfillment of her essential role as mother. In the apostolate, it is a maternal love which inspires the sister to reach out with compassion to all who, like the child, need care and protection. She sees not only the poor, the sick, and the aged as represented by the child, but all those who are ill in mind and heart, those who are poor in the goods of the spirit. Her work of the fulfillment of professional duties is a form of spirit-ual motherhood. By this very fact, her mission in the Church is closely associated with an essential quality of the Church herself. It must be the vocation of the reli-gious woman to impart to others something of the uni-versal healing compassion of Christ, effecting a true nur-turing and growth of human life Godward. Prudence Directs Merciful Action The love-inspired insight of a mother detects the weak-ness of her child and knows instinctively what is the best thing to do. This connatural knowledge has its exact parallel in the act of mercy, the impulse to action in which there is a giving of one's whole self. Knowledge of the most effective action in a concrete case cannot be a matter of intellectual understanding alone when this knowledge is based on an intense concern for the welfare of the person for whom the action is being done. Judg-ment about such action must be governed by the habit of prudence. Thus the life of one engaged in works of mercy requires that prudence be the directive intellectual habit. This virtue is further perfected by that docility to the motion of the Holy Spirit which is called the gift of counsel.2e For this reason, St. Thomas states that the beatitude of mercy specially corresponds to the gift of counsel, the gift which directs the act of mercy.~7 The concrete circumstances of human misery are sub-ject to changing conditions; but the principles applied in the variety of instances do not themselves change. Mer-ciful action is always a means to bring about human hap-piness; the choice of a best means to achieve a goal is always the concern of prudence. The prudent person is equipped to know what should be done in the concrete so that his decision and effort are suited to the needs of Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.52, a.2. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.52, a.4. the kingdom of God. Thus the prudential judgment nec-essary in the act of mercy must take into account both the needs of the recipient and the potentialities of the donor. Although spiritual alms are of more value objec-tively, it is sometimes a greater immediate need to relieve physical distress; "to a hungry man, food is more neces-sary than instruction in truth.''2s Since our humanness limits the amount of good we can do, St. Augustine coun-sels us to consider those who are nearer to us in time, place, or other accidental condition as the first recipients of our mercy.29 If the act of mercy is not merely hap-hazard, if it springs from the virtue of mercy, it must, then, be directed by prudence. Unity of the Virtues Related to Mercy Among the great variety of circumstances in which misery appears and within the myriad personalities who are called to a special dedication for responding to mod-ern needs, the stabilizing influence of a common spirit is to be found in the basic structure of virtues and habits within which this spirit is translated into action. The master-virtue of mercy has a characteristic pattern simple in its essentials yet comprising all the human powers in total personal engagement. First, because an act of mercy is concerned with con-crete human misery, the initial perception of the situa-tion will be a unified act including both sensory aware-ness of physical detail and intellectual understanding of the meaning-content incarnated in this detail: that is, its relevance to human happiness. Thus the merciful person will notice, will habitually listen and see, use imagination and memory to retain and supply impressions that help this awareness. She will use her estimative power under the control of reason to evaluate in each particular case a lack of what is befitting the dignity of man. She must be able to judge the social evils of the contemporary world with an adequate comprehension of what they imply for human living. Finally, she must be able to see herself as an instrument, a steward entrusted with a gift which is to be transmitted to others; this is her humility. In other words, all her human knowing powers are operative in the perception of what is relevant to unhappiness. Secondly, because an act of mercy is essentially an out-going response to a real situation, the merciful sister acts by the dynamic tendency of her appetitive powers. These will include a sensitivity to suffering that is called pity, a willingness to accept difficulties and to suffer for another that is called courage, and that benevolent love which in Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.32, a.3. St. Augustine, De Doctrina Christiana 1.28. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mercy VOLUME 22, 1963 293 Sister Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 294 the supernatural order is called charity. Just as human nature is a body-spirit unity, and just as human knowl-edge is the perception of meaning in the material sign, so too there is a parallel in the appetitive order. The uni-fied act of sorrow for another's unhappiness, the interior act of mercy, is the spiritual love of charity incarnated and expressed in the feeling of compassion. Although supernatural in its cause, charity, mercy is thoroughly hu. man in its mode of operation. Thirdly, there is a kind of reflective moment of both knowledge and love in the act of mercy. Encountering someone in misery, a merciful person experiences a deeper level of awareness by reason of the dynamic orientation of pity and love. This is what St. Thomas calls a knowl-edge of connaturality. In the light of her love which unites her by sympathy to another, the. sister who is mer-ciful can perceive meaning in details which would pass unnoticed by a detached onlooker. This perception in turn strengthens the driving forces of sensitive pity and willed love, impelling her to judge prudently the action that is most effective and committing her to carry out this action courageously without regard to inconvenience or pain. In mercy, therefore, there is required a totality of personal dedication to serving one's neighbor in order that he may together with us come to beatific union with God. Finally, the charity-love by which we will this goal not only the source from which mercy flows forth but is the unifying principle of every virtue and subordinate habit related to mercy. The ultimate goal of man is beati-tude, union with God. It is this goal which mercy, by re-lieving unhappiness, aims to procure. The goals of other virtues and habits are only proximate and intermediate ones which can be subordinated to this primary human end. So charity, qualifying the will, permeates all activity under the influence of the will--all free actions, just as life permeates the whole living organism in all its parts. In a body, all the particular members and organs func-tion for the good of the whole; so in a life of charity, all particular activity is directed toward the supreme good of the whole which is man's union with God.~0 Every virtue and every habit of a merciful person are drawn into the powerful stream of this love. "If a man is merciful," writes St. Gregory of Nyss;,, "he is deemed worthy of divine beatitude, because he has at-tained to that which characterizes the divine nature. Thus is the merciful man called blessed, because the fruit of mercy becomes itself the possession of the merciful.''zx Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.23, a.8; De Caritate, a.3. ~lSt. Gregory o£ Nyssa, The Beatitudes, translated ~rorn PL Mercy is most properly a divine attribute, manifesting the power and goodness of God's redemptive love.82 As source of the exterior works of mercy done by human hands, this virtue likens us to God in similarity of works and is the highest perfection of the active life.s3 As an interior effect of divine charity,.in us, companion of joy and peace and zeal, it is the greatest Of virtues which re-late to our neighbor,a4 Its effectiveness will end only when there is no further human misery left to cry out for heal-ing. 44:1193-1302 by Hilda Graef, "Ancient Christian Writers Series" (Westminster: Newman, 1954), p. 139. ~ Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, aA. ~Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, aA ad 3. ~ Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.4 ad 3. VOLUME 22~ 1963 ALAN F. GREENWALD Psychological Assessment of Religious Aspirants 4. 4" Alan F. Green-wald is director of psychological serv-ices for the Seton Psychiatric Insti-tute, 6420 Reisters-town Road, Balti-more 15, Maryland. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Psychological testing has become increasingly more useful in the selection of suitable candidates for religious life and in the recognition of emotional illness among seminarians prior to ordination. A growing number of seminaries and religious communities are utilizing psy-chological services to assist superiors and seminary direc-tors in arriving at decisions about the psychological suit-ability of prospective candidates for the priesthood. In view of the desirability of a close working relationship between the psychologist and the clergy, it seems advan-tageous to review briefly the methods, strengths, and weaknesses of psychological assessment procedures as they apply to the screening of applicants for religious life. The two extremes--exceptionally well-qualified extremely poor prospects--may be identified easily within the seminary with or without benefit of formal psycho-logical testing. It is the seminarian who is making a mar-ginal adjustment--just "getting by" academically, with-drawn from others, quarrelsome, experiencing difficulties in attention, concentration, or ability to study, yet still able to conform to established minimum standards of conduct--whose symptoms are less flagrant and whose future is far less predictable. These divergent behavior patterns may represent only a transitory disturbance or they could be the forerunner of a more serious mental dis-order. In either case the psychological referral will help to clarify the situation. The psychological suitability of a candidate for the priesthood is not a black and white issue. Rarely, except perhaps in the extreme cases where a young man presents a remarkable array of talents or on the other hand dem-onstrates bizarre, pathological behavior, can a simpl~ de-termination of "suitable" or "unsuitable" be made. The human personality is too complex to permit such a casual oversimplification. Rather, it is necessary to evaluate a broad spectrum of behavior in order to identify con-vergent drives and patterns as well as divergent attitudes and reactions. The primary question usually asked of the psychologist by the seminary is, "What can :you tell us about the psychological suitability of this seminarian for the priesthood?" In response to this question;,the~psychol-ogist seeks to determine the personality assets as well as the nature and degree of any emotional disturbance which may exist. The psychologist learns early that there are no accepta-ble "canned" or cookbook interpretations of behavior, no universals in test analysis, and a notable lack of .un-equivocal prognostic signs today. No test is infallible, and as yet we have not developed the test which can predict with great accuracy how an individual will behave in complex situations. To use less than the most compre-hensive and sensitive instruments available for personal-ity assessment would be a disservice to all concerned. Con-sidering the present state of the art, there still remains honest disagreement as to what constitutes the most valid test battery. But most clinicians favor the projective tech-niques. Projective techniques provide subtle, indirect methods of personality assessment which permit the subject to re-veal his basic pattern of thinking, feeling, and behaving. Because these relatively unstructured tests are less subject to conscious and unconscious distortion and permit greater freedom of expression within a standardized framework, projective techniques such as the Rorschach Inkblot Test, Thematic Apperception Test, Draw a Per-son Test, and Sentence Completion Test are generally preferred to the paper and pencil personality question-naires, for example, the Minnesota Multiphasic Person-ality Inventory. However, Bier,1 Vaughan,2 and others have used the MMPI extensively and developed norms for use in screening seminarians. While it is true that paper and pencil questionnaires have the advantage of ease in administration and scoring and provide quantitative measures of personality charac-teristics, the additional behavioral information elicited by a projective test battery would seem to merit the in-creased expenditure, of professional time and effort. Many 1 W. C. Bier and A. A. Schneiders, eds., Selected Papers [rom the American Catholic Psychological dssociation Meetings of 1957, 1958, 1959 (New York: Fordham University, 1960). W. C. Bier, "Test-ing Procedures and Their Value," Proceedings o] the 1959 Sisters' Institute of Spirituality (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1960), pp. 263-95. W. C. Bier, Description o! Biers Modified MMP1 (Mimeographed; New York: Fordham University, no date). ~ R. P. Vaughan, "Specificity in Program of Psychological Exam-ination," Guild o[ Catholic Psychiatrists Bulletin, v. 8 (1961), pp. 149-55. 4. Psychological Assessment VOLUME 22, 1963 297 Alan l:. G~een~ald REVIEW FOR REL[G]OUS investigators prefer the neat quantitative personality pro-file which the MMPI yields, but too often we find in the behavioral sciences a tendency to follow our sister sciences in attempting to reduce subject matter to numbers and statistics. Behavior does not lend itself readily to this treatment. Even with projective techniques there are ob-jective signs which, unhappily, fail to describe adequately the person they represent. The goal of a psychological screening program is to provide an accurate, reliable pic-ture of the person and not to reduce him to a mass of in-teresting or perhaps not-so-interesting statistics. Many significant test results are qualitative rather than quantitative in nature. Through projective testing, we are able to detect an unwholesome or conflictual, motiva-tion for religious life as well as underlying problems which may interfere with the seminarian's future adjust-ment. Test evidence which relates to motivation, causa-tion, and purposefulness of behavior can prove invaluable in revealing potential difficulties which a seminarian may encounter in his pursuit of a religious vocation. A reli-gious aspirant who demonstrates human sensitivity, strong drive toward achievement, and a desire to serve mankind has significantly different and healthier motiva.- tion than another whose entry into the seminary provides a means of escape from a world perceived as cold, hostile, and threatening to him. Bowes,3 in evaluating nearly 7000 seminarians, has found these major problem areas in order of frequency: (1) purity, (2) interpersonal relationships, (3) scrupulos-ity, (4) mother fixation, (5) obsessive compulsive person-ality, (6) depression, and (7) affective disorders. Becat, se most of these problems do not exist at the level of con-scious awareness, they may go undetected until they g~:n-erate enough anxiety to produce feelings of personal dis-tress and interfere with the person's ,capacity for work and his ability to meet the demands of reality. Often psy-chological testing may detect the presence of abnormal drives or conflicting motives and permit the seminarian to work through the conflict with the assistance of his spiritual director prior to ordination. Psychiatric aid may be rendered when indicated. This coordination of reli-gious and professional services can lead ultimately to a lower incidence of mental illness among the clergy. The use of psychological test procedures with religious introduces the need for specialized handling and inter-pretation. In order for any test results to be meaningful, they must be correlated with the activities, values, and * N. T. Bowes, "Professional Evaluation of Aspirants to Religious Life," a paper delivered in a seminar conducted at St. Mary':~ Semi-nary; Roland Park; Baltimore, Maryland in April, 1962. demands imposed upon the individual by his way of life. One hardly expects to find the same mental mechanisms and hierarchy of needs and values existing in a group of combat marines and in a group of seminarians. Similarly, as Vaughan indicates, all religious cannot be stereotyped and regarded as one. Different orders and assignments within the Church make special demands--intellectual and/or emotional--upon their members, so that prereq-uisites for a Jesuit university professor may differ from those of a Trappist monk. One personality may be better suited for the active, another for the contemplative life. Thus, notwithstanding the elimination of persons with severe emotional illness from the seminary, one needs to understand the circumstances and particular environ-ment in which the candidate will function in order to offer the most intelligent clinical judgment of his over-all suitability. A clear need remains for the development of psychological test norms applicable to candidates for re-ligious life. The experienced clinical psychologist approaches his task with humility, recognizing both the strengths and limitations of his tools. It behooves those who utilize his services to develop a set of realistic expectations in order to derive the maximum benefit from the referral. A word of caution seems in order to avoid overreliance by superiors on test results without giving due weight to traditional methods of selecting religious candidates. The decision regarding a religious vocation should never be made on the basis of test findings alone. The psychologi-cal test should be regarded as a supplementary source of information rather than as a replacement for existing practices. Psychological tests are being applied more widely in the evaluation of religious aspirants. Although no tests are infallible, projective techniques have demonstrated their effectiveness in the study of personality and in de-termining within limits the psychological suitability of persons seeking a religious vocation. Early detection and disposition of seminarians making a marginal adjustment can help to avoid subsequent major disturbances. Psy-chological assessment can be a useful supplement to tra-ditional selection procedures, but there is a need for behavioral scientists to develop a more definitive psycho-logical concept of, as well as test norms for, those aspiring to religious life. ÷ ÷ ÷ Psychological Assessment VOLUME. 22# 1963 299 SISTER M. DIGNA, O.S.B. Uses of Information in a Screening Program ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Digna, O.S.B., is a faculty member of the Col-lege of St. Scholas-tica, Duluth 11, Minnesota. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 300 Psychologists, psychiatrists, and psychometricians, as well as others, subscribe to the assumption that objective information about a candidate's fitness for the priesthood or religious life may be assessed by valid and reliable in. struments in terms of intelligence, personality, and inter-ests. Following the principle that a good, valid test serves as a Geiger counter in detecting intellectual and person-ality assets and liabilities, the Sisters of St. Benedict have utilized test findings for over the past ten years. Having found that a correlation does exist between test data and subsequent religious adjustment, the policy has been initiated of administering the tests prior to admission. ~ln some cases, considerable time, effort, and expense have been saved by a wise use of this information. All favorable findings are referred to a Catholic psychiatrist for further consultation and confirmation. If there is doubt, the in-dividual is given an opportunity to "try religious life." The first type of assessment is that of the applicant's intelligence. Here intelligence is considered from a purely operational viewpoint. The empirical fact is that some people show higher abilities than others. Measurement is an attempt to objectify cognition (intelligence) by eval-uating sensory acuity, perception, memory, reaction-time, and reasoning. Originally the testing program included two scores of mental ability, one based upon the Ameri-can Council Psychological Examination and the other on the Otis Self-Administering Test. The reasons for select. ing these two tests were the availability of the ACE and the ease of administering and interpreting the Otis. Completion of high school has been a basic require-ment for admission into the community. All the sisters at one time or another matriculate at the local college. Since the ACE scores are recorded in the registrar's office, they are accessible for use. However, the ACE scores are not too meaningful in determining the kind of intelligence the individual possesses. For this reason candidates were ranked percentage-wise among all other high school sen-iors or college freshmen tested and placed in the top fourth, lower fourth, and so on. Furthermore, the ACE is highly weighted with verbal factors so that the picture is not too complete. Then too, novice and candidate mis-tresses found difficulty in interpreting 224/81 or still more confusing 127/13. The Otis intelligence quotient was, therefore, a more satisfactory measurement. During the last five years the California Short Form Test of Mental Maturity has been used. This test yields information on total mental factors, language factors, non-language factors, spatial relationships, logical reason-ing, numerical reasoning, verbal concepts, average grade placement, mental age, and intelligence quotient. The following examples illustrate the use of the Cali-fornia Short Form Test of Mental Maturity. Applicant A was a young woman who applied at several communities. Because her educational background was limited to the eighth grade of a small country school, she was rejected. At the time she made contact with the local community, she was working as a domestic in a private home and had taken her vacation to make the lay women's retreat. She was advised to reapply and took the tests with other ap-plicants. The summary data scores indicated that the young woman had intelligence quotient scores in terms of total mental factors of 138, language factors of 141, and non-language factors of 129. Her intelligence grade place-ment was at the 90th percentile for total mental factors and language factors, and at the 60th for non-language factors using the norms for college graduates. The per-centile ranks at her chronological age (C.A.) were 80 for spatial relations, 99 for logical reasoning, 95 for numeri-cal reasoning, 99 for total verbal concepts, and 95 for non-language factors. The young woman was accepted. In one year as a postulant she easily completed two years of a collegiate preparatory program. At the end of her novi-tiate she completed two more years of high school and did very well in college. Her average was A minus or B plus. She is gentle, refined, humble, and modest, but above all deeply spiritual. Surely it is a courtesy to God to recog-nize and utilize His gifts to such a girl. The results of the California Test of Mental Maturity were important factors in the rejection of two applicants, B and C. The intelligence quotients obtained by appli-cant B were 86 for mental factors, 106 for language fac-tors, and 66 for non-language factors. Applicant C's in-telligence quotient, measured in terms of these three factors, were 82 for mental factors, 97 for language fac-÷ ÷ ÷ Screening Program VOLUME 22, 1963 $1~t~ M. Digna REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 302 tors, and 64 for non-language factors. Although the pre-diction of subsequent adjustment in religious life was not too promising on the basis of these scores, the applicants were not rejected merely on this basis. These scores led to a more thorough investigation of their backgrounds. As a result, the mother prioress felt that the applicants were not intellectually equipped to meet the demands of a community that stressed teaching and nursing as an ex-pression of its apostolate. Although information regarding intelligence is very important, the submerged four-fifths of one's personality is just as important as a predictive factor in adjustment to religious life. Originally, the Minnesota Personality Scale was used to discover problems with which the indi-vidual was confronted. This scale was helpful in deter-mining poor social adjustment, family conflicts, and emo-tional problems. Although the scale was structured, the evaluation results merely scratched the surface of the in-dividual's personality. According to Furst and Fricke (1956) a structured test is nonprojective in the sense that users can agree completely on the individual's score; they are projective in the sense that individuals can project personal meanings into the stimuli. Although very losv scores on the Minnesota Personality Scale were clues to more deep-seated troubles, most of the findings were of the obvious type. The Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI) has proved a better instrument since the items, the interrelationships, and the scales all afford information stemming from feelings and emotions. I*: is often possible through careful item analyses to determine the root of emotional experience and to discover hidden attitudes and traits. Supplementing the use of the MMPI, Modified Form, are life histories, ratings from direct ob-servation, and introspective reporting. Because of the MMPI, the psychologist secures a deeper understanding of the individual's problems. The items are structured, and the interpretation from them is deter-mined a priori. For example, if the psychologist or psy-chiatrist wishes to discover whether a person has phobias, he asks questions relating to the individual's fear of snakes, crowds, high places, and so forth. One criterion of phobias is a morbid, exaggerated, pathological fear of some object or situation. The basic assumption is that an individual who has many fears will answer questions per-taining to objects and situations of which the individual is afraid, and he will admit these fears. The test items of the MMPI have to be assembled into scales based upon the principle that the psychologist building the test has sufficient insights into the dynamics of verbal behavior and its relation to the inner core or personality that he is able to predict beforehand what certain sorts of people will say about themselves when asked certain types of questions. Structured personality tests may be employed in a purely diagnostic, categorizing fashion without the use of any dynamic interpretation of the relationship among scales or the patterning of a pro-file. The discrete scores on.': the' Minnesota Personality Scale are an example. The MMPI makes possible more "depth" interpreta-tion. On the basis of the MMPI and other information, some applicants have been rejected. As a typical example, the profile for applicant D demonstrates the use of the results of a personality inventory as a clue to possible poor adjustment to religious life. Although her intelligence quotient scores were average, applicant D presented a poor personality profile. She had two high triads (pairs of threes) above the normal range (30 to 70). Six of the nine scales for this profile ranged from T-scores of~71 to 108. The F score was high. According to Welsh and Dahl-strom (1956), high F scores tend to invalidate the sub-ject's responses. A schizoid may obtain a high F score owing to delusional or other aberrant mental state. The high score for the other scales represented such areas as hypochrondriasis, hysteria, psychopathic deviate, para-noia, schizophrenia, and hypomania. This young woman was not admitted but was counseled to see a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist to whom she was referred discovered that the applicant had previously been institutionalized. A recent follow-up revealed that she had returned to a mental institution. Applicant E was screened out because of her emotional pattern. This young girl was sixteen years old. Her in-telligence was average but her personality picture was not good. The young woman entered, was tested, and the test material with the following comments was filed in the mother prioress' office: This individual has high scores on the psychopathic deviate, masculinity, and psychasthenia scales. If she shows the follow-ing tendencies or traits it would be very wise to refer her to a psychiatrist: inability to profit from a mistake, attention-getting devices, concentrating on a younger girl in an objectionable manner, having so-called "crushes" on an older woman; any compulsive behavior like hand washing, phobias, fears, and anxieties, depression, worry, lack of confidence, and inability to concentrate. When the young woman began to manifest undesirable traits, her testing material was referred to for counseling purposes. Despite counseling, she fortunately left the community, but unfortunately has not sought psychiatric help. T-he care needed in interpreting test scores may be em-phasized by the responses of applicant F. This young ÷ ÷ ÷ Screening Program VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ .÷ Sister M. Digna REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 304 women's profile was unreliable. Unknown to us, the ap-plicant had previously been in two communities. In tak-ing the test, with her high intelligence, test-wiseness, and general sophistication, she presented a pattern falling within the normal range. Fifteen items of the MMPI are designated subtle items because their psychological sig-nificance would not normally be detected by individuals taking the test. Applicant F was able to discern the im-plications of test items and answer them to put herself in a favorable light. This young woman had an opportunity to "try religious life." She received counseling before en-trance, after entrance, and for two years after leaving until she settled down to complete her third year of col-lege, receiving A's in courses she liked, F's and D's in those she didn't. She does not accept God's will in her rejection. Recently, the writer received a letter from a state institution where the young woman has been for the last several years. Applicant G has average intelligence, a fairly well de-fined primary interest pattern, but an unsatisfactory per-sonality pattern on the MMPI. This applicant was tested after entrance and advised to leave. In all cases of dis-missal, the applicants have an opportunity to see a Catho-lic psychiatrist. Through a knowledge of their fields of vocational interest and job placement services, these young women often make a better adjustment as a result of their brief experience in religion. It might be inferred from these data that applicants to religious life have low intelligence or are emotionally disturbed. However, concomitant with the screening out of these "atypical" cases, eighty-one applicants were rld-mitted into the community. In most cases these candi-dates were young women who desired to serve God aad whose intellectual and emotional patterns were not de-terrent factors. Of the eighty-one, six wavered and left. Four of the six have been re-admitted and are making ex-cellent adjustments. Having seen her strengths and weak-nesses, the candidate herself often feels reassured that she can give herself to God if she is generous enough to make the sacrifice and to depend upon His divine grace to assist her. Illustrative of a good profile is that of applicant H. The California Test of Mental Maturity, interpreted in terms of intelligence quotients and grade placement, are at; fol-lows: for mental factors, the intelligence quotient is 118, grade placement, 15.6; language factors, 131, grade place-ment, 70th percentile of students graduating from col-lege; and non-language factors, 105, grade placement, 12.5. Her MMPI falls within the normal range, and her Strong Interest Blank reveals a well-defined interest pat-tern. Her primary occupational interests are in elemen- tary teaching and office work, and her tertiary interests in business education and home economics. It might be wise to say a few words about the use of the Strong Vocational Interest Blank. There rare two forms, one for men and ond for wbmen. The test has been useful in helping the community identify.strong positive and negative interest patterns. About ninety per cent of the reli

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Open Access#1031960

Review for Religious - Issue 19.1 (January 1960)

Issue 19.1 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Review For Religious Volume 19 1960 Editorial O[[ice ST. h~ARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas Publisher TIlE QUEEN'S WORK St. Louis, Missouri EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. Henry Willmering, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS John E. Becker, S.J. Robert F. Weiss, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answen Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland Book Reviews Earl A. Weis, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana Published in January, March, May, July, September, November on Ihe fifleenlh of Ihe monlh. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is Indexed in Ihe CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX. Act of "Dedication of the Human Race to Christ the King Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary IOn July 18, 1959 (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 51 11959~, 595-96), the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary issued a new text of the act of dedication of the human race to the Heart of Christ the King. The text has been revised according to the directives of John XXIII who has also accorded a number of indulgences to the revised prayer. The following is a translation of the new text of the prayer together with the indulgences granted for its recital.I SWEET JESUS, Redeemer of the human race, look do~vn upon us humbly kneeling before Your altar.~ We are Yours and Yours we wish to be; but in order to be still more firmly united to You, today each one of us freely dedicates himself to Your most Sacred Heart. There are many indeed who have never known You; many others have rejected Your commandments and have repudiated You. Be merciful to all of them, 0 kind Jesus, and draw them all to Your holy Heart. Be king, 0 Lord, not only of the faithful who have never abandoned You, but also of the prodigal children who have left You; bring them back quickly to their Father's house lest they die of misery and hunger. Be king of those who have been deceived by erroneous ideas or have been separated by discord; bring them back to the harbor of truth and to the unity of faith so that soon there may be a single fold and a single shepherd. Bestow upon Your Church, 0 Lord, security, liberty, and safety; give to all nations the tranquillity of order; and grant that from one pole of the earth to the other there may ring out the cry: Praise to the divine Heart which brought forth our salvation; to It be glory and honor forever. Amen. July 18, 1959 His Holiness, John XXIII, after abrogating the prayer as given in the Enchiridion Indulgentiarum [Manual of Indulgences], 1952, n. 271, graciously granted the following indulgences: 1) A partial indulgence of five years to the faithful who devoutly recite the above act of dedication with contrite heart. 2) A plenary in- 1When the prayer is recited outside a church or oratory, "in Your presence" should be said instead of "before Your altar." ACT OF DEDICATION dulgence once a month, if they have recited the prayer devoutly every day for a whole month, provided they go to confession, receive Communion, and make a visit to a church or a public oratory. 3) The faithful may gain a partial indulgence of seven years if on the Feast of Christ the King they are present in any church or oratory, even a semi-public one (in the case of those legitimately attending it), when the act of dedication tn the Sacred Heart of Jesus according to the formula given above and the Litanies of the Sacred Heart are recited before the Blessed Sacrament solemnly exposed; moreover, they may gain a plenary indulgence if, besides fulfilling the above conditions, they have gone to confession and Communion. All contrary provisions not withstanding. N. Card. CANALI, Major Penitentiary L. ~I, S. I. Rossi, Secretary Living /aters Frederick Power, $. J. pius XII in his encyclical Haurietis aquas on devotion to the Sacred Heart urges us to"-study diligently the teachings of Scripture, the fathers, and the theologians--the solid founda-tions on which devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus rests." For the Holy Father is "firmly convinced that we can rightly and fully appreciate the incomparable excellence and inexhaustible store of heavenly gifts of this devotion only when we study its nature in the light of divinely revealed truth." The encyclical itself begins with a text from Isaiah: "You shall draw waters with joy out of the Saviour's fountains" (Is 12:3). A few lines further on the Holy Father returns to the idea of the "Saviour's fountains" when he refers to the scene in the Temple at Jerusalem on the Feast of Tabernacles as recorded in John's Gospel, Chapter 7:37-39. The words of our Lord on this occasion are numbered among the principal te~ts which establish the biblical foundation of the devotion. A closer study of this text will be most rewarding and will reveal the appropriateness of the text as the general theme of the encyclical. When the Feast of Tabernacles was at hand, our Lord had declined to go to Jerusalem with His relatives but afterwards went up by Himself "not publicly but as it were privately." The Feast of Tabernacles was held towards the end of Sepo tember after the grain harvest and the vintage and the gathering of the autumn fruit crop. Originally an agricultural festival in-stituted to give thanks to God for the fruitfulness of the soil, it later included the commemoration of the forty years spent by the Hebrews in the desert. In memory of the latter event all Jews of free status except the sick, women, and children lived for the week in huts made from the leafy branches of trees. These huts reminded them of the tents or tabernacles pitched in the wilder-ness of Sinai, a period kept ever fresh in their minds as one in which God gave them the great gifts of the manna and of the water from the rock. The desert ever afterwards remained in Jewish tradition as the place of God's protective presence. Two elaborate ceremonies added to the gaiety of the feast: the procession to the fountain of Siloe and the torch-light illumi-nation of the Women's Court. It is the first of these ceremonies that is of interest for the present article. FREDERICK POWER Review for Religious Each morning the multitude organized into a procession. The people lined the route leading to thepool of Siloe and crowded into the Temple and the surrounding courtyards and porches. Then a procession of priests and Levites descended the valley as far as the pool of Si|oe. Those assisting at the ceremony held a citron fruit in the left hand and in the right a palm branch twined with shoots of myrtle and green willow. The Levites chanted the group of festive psalms called the great Hallel; and the multitude, keep-ing time with the refrain, vigorously waved the fruit and palm branch in token of joyfulness and triumph. The officiating priest carried a golden ewer, and at the pool of Siloe he filled it with water to carry back to the altar of holo-causts. This liturgical act was both a commemorative symbol and a dramatized hope. It recalled the miraculous water that gushed forth from the rock of Horeb beneath the rod of Moses, and it was a figure of the outpouring of graces proper to Messianic times. As the celebrant drew the water of Siloe, the choir repeated the verse of Isaiah: "You shall draw water with joy out of the Saviour's fountains" [12:3), a verse which refers to the blessings promised for the days of the Messiah. This symbol of a spring bursting forth and of water flowing from a fountain was well known to those present, for it is one of the most frequent in the Bible; and in a land afflicted by drought and water scarcity, it was a readily understood symbol of divine blessings. Accordingly, the miraculous event in the desert, when Moses struck the rock with his rod and water gushed forth, was remembered with gratitude in the people's liturgical ceremonies. Moses himself had prayed before the Ark of the Covenant: "O Lord God, hear the cry of this people and open to them thy treasures, a fountain of living water, that being satisfied they may cease to murmur" (Num 20:6). In this text and elsewhere in Scripture "living water" is water flowing from a spring as opposed to the stagnant water of cisterns. It was this symbol of living waters that the prophets used to signify divine blessings. Jeremiah even calls God the fountain of living waters: "For my people have done two evils. They have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and have digged to themselves cisterns, broken cisterns that can hold no water" (Jer 2:13). In the last part of the book of Ezekiel, the prophet describes the vision of the holy waters issuing from all sides of the Temple. The desert through which they flow becomes extremely fertile; the trees on their banks have healing power and bear fresh fruit January, 1960 LIVING WATERS monthly. Such is the virtue and dynamism of Yahweh's holy presence in the Temple that it radiates0grace and blessings over the land. Zechariah, too., in speakingof the time of the Messiah, remarks: "In that day there shall be a fountain open to the house of David and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem" (Zech 13:1). The prophets, then, looked on water poured out upon parched land as an image of the new spirit that was to be characteristic of the time of salvation. In .the words of Isaiah: "I will pour out waters upon the thirsty ground, and streams upon the dry land; I will pour out my spirit upon thy seed, and blessing upon thy stock" (Is 44:3). In these texts we see some examples of how the blessings of God and the future blessings of the Messianic era are portrayed under the symbol of living waters, and the passages provide some introduction to the scene in Jerusalem on the last day of the Feast of Tabernacles. After the drawing of the water the procession wended its way up the slope from the pool of Siloe, the officiating priest carry-ing the golden pitcher of water, the Levites chanting psalms, and the crowd singing the refrain. As the procession approached the temple, the people became more enthusiastic, shouting out their response of Hallelu-Yah--Praise Yahweh--with ever greater vehe-mence. It wasin this way that they manifested their deep-felt conviction that Yahweh was their own God who had brought them out of the land of Egypt and had led them safely through the desert. The procession went up to the altar of holocausts just at the moment when the parts of the victim immolated that day were being placed upon it. The priest was greeted by the sacred trumpets and was met at the altar by another priest carrying the wine for the libations. While the people continued their enthusiastic shout-ing, the two pitchers were emptied into conduits that led to the foot of the altar. By this libation it was intended to thank God for the two occasions when He made water flow from a rock to satisfy the thirst of His people in the wilderness. By the same rite the attention of the people was directed to the Messianic promise of living waters and also to the expectation of the fulfillment of the promise which was symbolically signified. For the people were expecting a Messiah who would bring salvation and who was to be another Moses. When the liturgical rite was finished and the singing ended, a silence descended over the throng. Our Lord, who had been 7 FREDERICK POWER Rewew for Rehgmus present among the crowd, now took advantage of this opportunity to reveal His true mission. Mounting a step he cried out to the Jewish people: "If anyone thirst, let him come to me and drink; he who believes in me, as the Scripture says, 'From his heart there shall flow rivers of living water.' " By these words He revealed Himself as the one in whom all the abundant graces of the Messianic period are to be found, the object of the Messianic expectation, the Messiah himself. He is the rock from which the water of life flows; indeed, He is the fountain itself. He is the spring from which anyone who thirsts may quench his thirst. The effect of faith in Him would be the reception and communication of living water. This text requires the explanation of two important points. First, the text as a whole has been interpreted in two ways: that the fountain of living water flows from the one who believes in Christ, or that the fountain flows from Christ, the one in whom we believe. The Holy Father understands the text in the second way in his encyclical; this use, without doubt, holds the richest and profoundest sense, one more in agreement with the Old Testament prophecies given above. It is also more in agreement with the theology of St. John. Secondly, an explanation must be given for the use of the word heart in the text. The Latin edition of the encyclical follows the Vulgate version of the text, the literal translation of which would be: "Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water." The Latin phrase used is de ventre eius, which literally means "out of his belly." This translation would also be a literal trans-lation of the Greek and Aramaic versions of the text. The trans-lation, however, would not be a correct interpretation of the idea intended. Those who are experts in the Aramaic language agree that for the Hebrews the viscera or the belly was regarded as the seat of the emotions in the same way as we regard the heart. Accordingly a proper translation of the phrase used by our Lord would be "from his heart." Such a translation, though not a literal one, is the proper way to express the idea in terms we understand today. It is what our Lord meant, though He expressed it in the idiom of His own day. It is with this understanding that authorities place this text among the fundamental texts of Scrip-ture regarding devotion to the Sacred Heart. On this occasion of our Lord's revelation of His Sacred Heart, He appeals to Scripture as being fulfilled in His person. He does not refer to one particular text but rather to that whole class of January, 1960 LIVING WATER~ texts from the Old Testament which we considered earlier. The people who heard these ~o.~s could take only one meaning: The man before them was definitely claiming the fulfillment of these prophecies in Himself; He was claiming it and at the same time promising untold blessings to those who would recognize this claim. Certainly St. John is impressed by the words, for he pauses to comment upon them. He tells us that they were prophetic and that they were fulfilled in the final glory of our Lord whicb, for ~John, is our Lord's passion, death, and subsequent transfiguration: "He said this, however, of the Spirit whom they who believed in~ Him were to receive; for the Spirit had not yet been given, seeing that Jesus had not yet been glorified" (Jn 7:39). The Spirit here means the Holy Spirit and includes the abundance of Mes-sianic goods and the gifts of redemption which the Holy Spirit brings to those who believe in Christ. But before the living water would flow, Christ had to be glorified; this was a condition that had yet to be fulfilled. That our Lord's glory was concerned with His passion is seen in His priestly prayer after the Last Supper: "Father, the hour has come! Glorify thy Son, that thy Son may glorify thee, even as thou has given him power over all flesh, in order that to all ,that thou hast given him he may give everlasting life" (Jn 17:2). By sacrificing Himself the Redeemer would cause the Spirit to flow and to open up the "fountain of living water." And this would happen when at the death of the Messiah His Heart would be pierced ~with a lance. The life-giving power of the living waters would find its source in the Blood of Christ as it gushed forth from the wounded Heart of Christ. It is, however, necessary to make here some distinctions between the piercing of Christ's side and the pouring forth of the Holy Spirit. The piercing is not of the same nature as the visible mission of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost. Nevertheless there is an ancient tradition, attested to among others by St. Augustine, that the Church was born from the pierced side of Christ. As Eve was taken from the side of the sleeping Adam, so also the Spouse of Christ, the Church, sprang from the pierced side of the dead Christ, the new Adam in His sleep of death being the source of the new Eve, the Church. And this Church is the Mystical Body of Christ whose soul is the Holy Spirit. FREDERICK POWER Review for Religious That the living waters promised to those who believe in Christ spring from the pierced side of the dead Saviour is also attested to by the common interpretation that for John the water and blood are signs of the sacraments of Baptism and the Holy Eucharist. In his encyclical Plus XII puts it this way: "From this wounded Heart the grace of the sacraments, from which the children of the Church draw supernatural life, flowed most pro-fusely . " And the Holy Spirit is included in the sacrament of Baptism, for the new birth to be effected by Baptism is brought about by "water and the Spirit" as our Lord told Nic~demus. So it is that the prediction of John in Chapter 7 concerning the flowing rivers to come after Christ's glorification was fulfilled when on the cross a soldier "opened his side with a lance, and immediately there came out blood and water" (Jn 19:34). The streams of blood and water are certain signs that now have been fulfilled the Scriptural prophecies of Messianic grace. Now the living water has begun to flow; now the Spirit is given, but only in blood; grace is given but only from the pierced Heart on the cross. Unless the spiritual rock that is Christ had been struck, the waters would nol~ have ~ome forth. And John in his Gospel insists that this incident of the soldier declining to break our Lord's legs and instead opening His side was a momentous event. He emphasizes his own role as an eye-witness of the event: "And he who saw it has borne witness, and his witness is true: and he knows that he tells the truth, that you also may believe" (Jn 19:35). And he puts further emphasis on the event by telling us that by it two prophecies were fulfilled: "Not a bone of him shall you break," and "They shall look upon. him whom they have pierced." The first of these prophecies speaks of the paschal lamb. Now in the concluding events of the passion of Christ it is fully revealed that Christ is the true Lamb of God; accordingly none of His bones were broken. This symbol of the Lamb recalls the mag-nificent theology of the Apocalypse concerning the "Lamb who was slain" (Apoc 5:12). In the Lamb we see the Old Testament prophecies of the Messiah who suffers 'and is glorified in His sufferings: "The Lamb . . . is the Lord of Lords and the King of Kings" (Apoc 17:14). The redeemed are the "bride, the spouse of the Lamb" (Apoc 21:9). In the blood of this Lamb the faithful are able to be cleansed--to be filled with the living waters of the Spirit. And from the fact that the rivers flow forth from the 10 January, 1960 LIVING WATERS wounded Heart of the Lamb, we are led to those passages in the Apocalypse which depict the fulfillment of the prophecies of Isaiah and Ezekiel: "For the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them, and will guide them to the fountains of the waters of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes" (Apoc 7:17); ". he showed me a river of the water of life, clear as crystal, coming forth from the throne of God and of the Lamb" (Apoc 22:1). Thus the act of redemption is enshrined, as it were, in a celestial garden and the redeemed are forever made joyous at the Saviour's fountains. The second prophecy, which is concerned with the piercing of our Lord's side, is from Zechariah: "And I will pour out upon the house of David and upon Jerusalem the spirit of grace and of prayers: and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced and they shall mourn for him as one mourneth for an only son" (Zech 12:10). In this passage God speaks about Himself. As man, He will be the first-born, one for whom they mourn and weep and at whom they gaze although they have pierced Him. God Himself in His human nature brings about the redemption and is the one who gives the living water of the Spirit. He pours forth the Spirit at the moment when the lance opens His Heart. At that moment the Spirit begins to flow and the Messianic work will be prolonged to the end of time when Jesus will come again in glory. In the words of the Apocalypse: "Behold, he comes with the clouds, and every eye shall see him, and they also who pierced him" (Apoc 1:7). Our Lord, then, standing above the throng gathered for the Feast of the Tabernacles, revealed Himself as the long awaited Messiah, the rock of salvation, the fountainhead of all the bless-ings of the Messianic times. For the most part, He was not ac-cepted. A few believed in Him, so John tells us, but only a few. For He is the "stone which the builders rejected." But He is also the rock which will be struck anew for the salvation of the newly chosen people. He will give of His sub-stance to give birth to the new people that He will acquire for Himself. From His pierced side will spring the fountain of eternal life, the rivers of living waters, the Spirit of love, the Church, the new Jerusalem, Baptism and the other sacraments, all the graces of the "last days." The Litany of the Sacred Heart sums it all up in the invocation: "Heart of Jesus, fountain of life and holiness." 11 A Catechism on Obedience of Judgment Paul W. O'Brien, S. J. QWhat are the necessary presuppositions for every act of obedience? A. That the superior has authority and that what he commands is not certainly sinful. Q. Could the superior sin while commanding something not sinful? A. Yes, through sinful motives, for example, envy, injustice, or serious imprudence. Q. What is the formal motive of obedience? A. Authority. Q. Is obedience an act of the will or intellect? A. Obedience of the will is an act of the will; obedience of judgment is formally an act of the intellect, but like faith, is commanded by the will. Q. What is obedience of judgment? A. The conforming of my judgment to the judgment of the superior-because he has authority. Q. To what judgment do I conform? A. Not necessarily to his theoretical (speculative)judgment, that is, something to believe, but to his practical judgment, that is, something to do. The Abbot John did not have to believe that the dry stick would grow into a tree; he had only to believe that God wanted him to water it (for His own mysterious reasons). Q. How would you express this practical judgment? A. Given the order of the superior, I must judge that this is what God wants done (that is, God sanctions with His authority the perhaps mistaken decision of my superior) and that it is best according to the ultimate mysterious plan of God (not necessarily best for the immediate purpose intended by the superior). Q. When I cannot agree with the speculative judgment of the superior and must carry out his practical judgment, how should I obey? A. Not just materially, by merely executing the order (and in such a way as to sabotage the project, emphasizing and dis- 12 O[~EDIENCE OF JUDGMENT playing the weakness of the order, proving the superior wrong); but loyally entering into his, views (without blinding myself to his error), covering up its weaknesses before the public, trying my best to make it succeed. Q. Should I judge the order of the superior to be the will of God because of the reasons of the superior? A. No, but only because he has authority. Q. Then obedience of judgment does not imply that I agree with the reasons of the superior? A. No, it does not imply this. Q. Is it possible to have perfect obedience of judgment and the firm assurance that the superior's order is the will of God for me, while still hesitating over the reasons of the superior? A. Yes. Obedience is specified by authority, not by reasons. Q. Will my obedience of judgment be more perfect in propor-tion as I bring myself into agreement with the reasons of the superior? A. No, though the desire to agree will indicate a more perfect disposition. Q. Then why try to make my reasons agree with the reasons of the superior? A. It helps remove the psychological obstacles to obedience of judgment and chiefly of execution. It is easier to act if humanly speaking I agree with the policy. It is the proper disposition in the face of God's representative. Q. Do I suspend my act of perfect obedience of judgment while I am trying to bring myself to agree with the reasons of the superior? A. No, no more than you suspend your act of faith while you study your catechism or theology. Q. When I have brought myself to agree with all the reasons of the superior, do I have more assurance of doing God's will? A. No. The security that comes from authority (in the line of faith) will always be sufficient and greater than that which comes from the weight of human reasons. (Actually both the superior and I may be agreeing in wrong reasons.) Q. What is "blind obedience"? A. Supposing the two presuppositions of all obedience, I blind myself to the qualities and reasons of my superior, that is, I exclude the consideration of these reasons and motivate my obedi-ence by authority alone. Q. What is the difference between obedience of judgment and 13 PAUL W. O'BRIEN blind obedience? A. There is no difference in the act of obedience. But while obedience of judgment merely states the fact, blind obedience connotes the approach: the exclusion of the consideration of the reasons. Q. Is blind obedience a help to obedience of judgment? A. Yes. It makes obedience of judgment easier and safer for though I could have perfect obedience of judgment while consider-ing, and even while rejecting the reasons, still it is much easier to by-pass these reasons and look simply to authority. Q. Is blind obedience always better? A. No. Even though easier and safer, it is often good and sometimes necessary to consider the reasons of the superior (even while excluding them from the motivation of obedience), for they may: (a) help me to profit by the experience of my elders, (b) enlighten me on the spirit of my community, (c) be necessary to relieve psychological blocks to action, (d) be necessary for the understanding of the mind of the superior in view of carrying out his order more intelligently. Q. What should be my attitude toward the reasons of the superior? A. I should be well-disposed towards them. They are given to help me. I should use them as far as they help. If they trouble me, I should prescind from them and practice blind obedience, But even while using them, I should keep them in second place and unite myself to God through authority. 14 The Theology of Religious Women Yves M.-J. Congar, 0. P. This article was a conference given July 10, 1958, to a convention of French priests charged with the care of religious women. It will ~ppear as a chapter in a book to be entitled Le r61e de la religieuse dans l'Eglise (Paris: Cerf, 1960), a volume in the series Probl~mes de la religieuse d'aujourdhui. The article was first printed in Suppldment de la Vie Spirituelle (1959), 316:42. The present translation is by John E. Becker, S.J. Basic Notions: The Church and the World THE WORLD was set on,its way reality by the creative act. Its story is humanity s quest atos, ,ba e fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it" (Gen 1:28). For all practical pur-poses, the world, the temporal, history, the drive to civilize are equivalent ideas; the reality they have in common is the effort of man to perfect himself by subjecting, for his advantage, the re-sources inherent in himself and in material creation. And this effort has a direction, a direction which is completely dependent on the facts of Adam's existence: he was at one and the same time both image of God and sinner. As Tennyson said very well, it is only at the end of this great adventure that one can say that man is complete. The Church is something other than this inherent movement of the world or of history even if, as is the case, she envelops it and Ultimately guarantees it. For she does not emerge out of the resources deposited within the first creation. She is placed in the realm of reality by a new initiative of God, properly supernatural, that is to say, an initiative in which God commits and gives Himself (this is the meaning of grace). She is an order of sanctity and sanctification positively instituted from above, a creation of the divine positive law issuing from the priestly, prophetic, and redemptive kingship of Christ. Still she has her existence and, as it were, her proper stability within human societies. Divine insti-tution that she is, she herself creates and shapes according to her needs and her spirit institutional forms proper to herself. On the other hand, the Church is not made to be an end in herself. She is made for God and for the world -- even for the world, to save it by the grace which God has given her to dispense: 15 YvEs M -J CONGAR Rewew for Rehgmus "In it [the faith of the Church] is contained union with Christ.''1 The Church is a new creation of God, and a supernatural one; but she has a mission in and for the world. This mission consists in two things: first, to convert men by making them disciples, that is to say by bringing them into herself, giving them in this way the regeneration of a second birth; and then to sanctify them by communicating to them the grace of the Lord, by forgiving their sins, and by teaching them to conform their lives to the holy and sanctifying will of God;2 second, to operate within temporal life itself in order that in accordance with God's plan it may be directed and oriented towards God to the fullest possible extent. The Church here reveals especially the healing power of grace which, by giv-ing back to nature her primitive orientation, conforms her to the will and to the image of God while at the same time restoring her t'o herself. The Church seeks, by all sorts of initiatives and under-takings, to remold the world according to the plan of God, which is neither the pursuit of self nor the pursuit of power nor egoistic hardness of heart, but on the contrary, service, brotherhood, justice, peace, communion, sharing, helping the poorest, combating all the degrading miseries of body and soul. This is why, from one end to the other of her history and growth, the Church has created ministries inspired by charity. Some of them, more involved with the work of the world and its battles, such as the fight for social justice, are more the role of the laymen within her whom she forms and inspires for this work. Others, more strictly pertinent to her spiritual nature and to her primary office of sanctification, can remain more properly eccle-siastical ministries; such is the case in particular with the corporal works of mercy or the spiritual works such as teaching. "As long as you did it for one of these, the least of my brethren, you did it for me" (Mt 25:40). Basic Notions: The Church in Herself One can consider the Church as the great sacrament of salva-tion and distinguish in her two aspects. She is both the reality of grace or sanctity and she is the means of grace or sanctification: reality and sacrament. Images for comparison are not lacking. However, as with every .image, they are very inadequate, and risk losing through excessive schematization what they gain in clarity. 1St. Ir~naeus, Adversus Haereses, III, 24, 1. ~Mt 28:19-20; Mk 16:15 ft.; Jn 3:3 ft.; 20:21 ff.; Col 1:13; etc. 16 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN For example, the Church as a holy reality may be considered to be. a tower or a temple; as a means of. sanctification, to have the instrumental power of a pick, a mining car, a windlass, a scaffold, and all of those things which are necessary ~to bring the rough stone from the mines to the finished building where each has its place and its proper finish (see the hymn for the dedication of a church). Does not St. Augustine distinguish the "society of the sacraments" and the "society of the saints," the former being ordered to the latter? Does he not also write: "The architect builds a permanent edifice with temporary machinery"?'~ To see in the Church the holiness already rooted in souls is not only to consider the depths of her life, it is to see in her that which will always be. "Charity never passes away" (1 Cor 13:8). To live through charity the life of holiness is really to live as a citizen of the eternal and heavenly City of God. In heaven, one might say, there will be nothing else but that. That city knows no hierarchy other than that of holiness or of love. The Virgin Mary is at its pinnacle. In the Church of this world she had neither a function nor a hierarchical dignity. It could readily be said of her that she was a member, the first member, of the laity if there were not the danger of belying by this way of speaking her per-fection as a consecrated member of the faithful. Mgr. Journet says well, following St. Thomas, that the Virgin Mary has per-fectly achieved the highest holiness, not the highest hierarchical dignity.~ She is-the type, or better, the perfect personification of the Church, but of the Church as final end, not as means. Mary is the "eschatological eikon of the Church.''~ That which in the Church is "sacrament" in the wide sense of the word -- instrument or means of grace -- is as such related to her as a wayfarer. This is true in the first place of her sacraments properly speaking, but also of her dogmatic formulas, of her organizations, and of her ecclesiastical hierarchy which has the care of all these matters. If it were necessary to point out a type or a personification of the Church here, it would not be the Virgin Mary but rather the Apostle Peter. But this would be to consider 3Sermo 362, 7 (Patrologia Latina, 39, 1615). 4St. Thomas, In I Sent., d. 16, q. 1, a. 2, ad 4; Summa Theologiae, 3, 27, 5, ad 3; Albert the Great, In IV Sent., d. 19, a. 7; Charles Journet, L'Eglise du Verbe incarnd, 2 (Paris, 1951), 422; 441; 456, note 2. ~This striking expression is from L. Bouyer, Le culte de la M~re de Dieu (Chevetogne, 1950), 33; Le trSne de la sagesse (Paris, 1957), 188. See also O. Semmelroth, Die Kirche als Ursakrament (Frankfort, 1951), 176-85. A beautifu] and rich meditation on the theme of Mary as perfect spiritual type of the Church is to be found in H. Rahner, Marie et ~'Eglise (Paris, 1955). 17 YvEs M.-J. CONGAR Review [or Religious only one part of the reality, to reduce the power of the Church as means of grace or of sanctification to "institutions" alone. But as a matter of fact the whole life of the Church in time is a means of grace tending to produce that interior fruit of holiness which will always remain. Still, if the distinction which we have proposed is valid -- it is a classical one -- it is very necessary to guard against pushing it to the point of separation or disjunction. The Church in the concrete, the existential Church on earth is at the same time both means of sanctification and sanctity. In terms of the image used above, we should say that she is at the same time the building and the construction works by which she is built; or, using another image, she is the ear of wheat, full of the grain of which the host will be made, and at the same time the root and stem necessary to bear and nourish the wheat until the harvest time. This is why in the Church holiness and means of sanctification interpenetrate. The sacraments are holy; but also the reality of the interior holiness of the members is a powerful means of leading other members and the whole body either to conversion or to greater holiness. There is a spiritual mothering of holiness, or, if holiness seems too broad, of the life of faith, of prayer, and of charity; and perhaps this mothering is too little studied, theoretically undervalued in the Church, even though it is extremely real, a factor of everyday life. We shall return to this point later. It would also be inexact to make a complete separation be-tween holiness and visibility. Holiness manifests itself. It is even a "note" of the Church, that is to say a mark which "notifies" and permits the true Church to be recognized. As instigator and end of all the visible works of the Church, terminus and interior direction of all the instrumentality of grace, intimate soul of all the historical life of the Church, holiness gathers all of these func-tions together to constitute that sign of the Kingdom of God which the Church must be for the world. During His earthly life, Jesus made men sensible of the approach of the Kingdom of God and unveiled something of its proper mystery by "signs" just as He opened up the ways of the Good News in parables. After the Ascension of the Lord, it is the Church which by the grace of Pentecost is the sign for the world. But the different manifesta-tions of her historical life are signs of the Kingdom of God, signs of the charity of Christ, only because they incorporate and radiate holiness. Otherwise they might be signs of power, of legal right, even of greatness; they would not be signs of the Kingdom of God 18 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN and of the charity of Christ. They would not draw the world to the faith. Basic Notions: Religious Life The Church is a body which is organic, organized, and.there-fore composed of different elements. She embraces the infinity of individual differences which are the foundation of the gifts, altogether interior ~and spiritual or exterior and public, of each one: what a variety among men, what a variety in the world of the saints! All this is the rainbow of grace. But there are also larger differences in the Church, delimited categories, groups charac-terized by a particular social structure, even constituted as such by law. These are those major differences of condition which affect Christian life in that profound and permanent as well as public and manifest way by reason of which one may speak of them as states. Christian antiquity and the Middle Ages used the expression orders for any group, and the encyc.lical Mystici corporis of June 29, 1943, reintroduced this idea into its broad theology of the Church as the Body of Christ. Once more it speaks, for example, of the "order of the laity.''~ The fathers spoke of the order of preachers or of prelates, the order of clerics, of monks, of virgins, of the continent, of widows, of deaconesses, of married people. If we consider only the most general divisions of states in the Church, we find ourselves faced with a double distinction, that between clerics and the laity, and another between seculars and regulars or religious (see below, note 50). If we recall what was said above about the Church, we will be able to relate the first distinction more to that ~aspect according to which the Church is means of sanctification, since this difference is between the simple members of the people of God and those members who are destined to exercise some sacred function and are endowed with powers appropriate to the prac.tical application of the means of grace. The second distinction pertains more to the aspect of the Church according to which she is a mystery of holiness; for the "state of perfection," even though it is a means of sanctification, is nor-mally an approach towards a more perfect life in Christ. In both cases, the state ~or particular ecclesiastical position of the cleric and of the regular is a deprivation of the greater liberty legiti-mately given those in the world in view of their conditio.n of life and .activity in the world; the purpose of this deprivation is the better service of God, whether this be more on the plane of per- SActa Apostolicae Sedis, 35 [1943), 200-01. 19 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious sonal spiritual life (religious life) or more on the plane of admin-istering the Church's means of sanctification (clerical, priestly state). It would be superfluous to spend time here defining religious life. Let us recall merely the simple and vigorous manner in which St. Thomas Aquinas characterized it in relation to the Christian life of the simple faithful.7 Each member of the faithful is com-mitted by his baptism, to renounce sin as well as Satan and his temptations. By religious profession, a Christian man or woman commits himself to renounce the world as the context of his life in order to belong more entirely, more definitively to God and to His work; for the world is an ambiguous milieu to live in; it is full of occasions of evil; it is engrossing, distracting, and filled with demands which hinder one from belonging to God completely and of temptations which turn one away from Him. This is why it is essential to the religious life, not only to detach oneself from the earthly and to consecrate oneself to God by vows, but through the rule to separate oneself from the conditions of life in the world. A point of view less individual and more ecclesiological might present the same realities in the following way.s The difference between religious and the simple faithful need not be viewed as a difference between the consecrated and the non-consecrated. This opposition exists, of course; but it should be located between the Church and the world, between the people of God and those who are not, between Christians and non-Christians (see 1 Pet 2:10). In the people of God as such, in the Body of Christ, all is sacred. The faithful are consecrated; their whole life as Christians, in so far as it is Christian, is sacred, not profane. All that religious can ambition is to be more consistently, more integrally Christian, and to embrace more perfect means toward this end." Laymen, or the ordinary faithful, live in the world. It is their precise charac-teristic to serve God in the way that is determined by their natural mission into the world.~° But the world is something other than 7Contra impugnantes religionem, c. 1. 8We employ here a suggestion of R. Carpentier, S.J. in his Life in the City o[ God: An Introduction to the Religious Life (New York, 1959). Compare the same author's "Les instituts s~culiers," Nouvelle Revue Thdologique, 77 (1955), 408-12, in particular, 409, 411. ~Since Dom G. Morin's L'iddal monastique et la vie chrdtienne des premiers jours (Maredsous, 1912), it is better known that religious life is merely the Christian life more fully expressed. 1°There is more and more agreement on this positive and theological definition of the lay state: Y. M.-J. Congar, "Qu'est-ce qu'un laic?" Suppld-ment de la Vie Spirituelle, 1950, 363-92; this article is the first chapter in the same author's Lay People in the Church Westminster, 1957). See also K. 2O January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN the Church. If the Church has its inner consistency and its proper demands, the world has too, Even prescinding from the ambiguity inherent in the enterprises of men and in the tendency toward sin which adheres to the tissue of the world, it is still necessary to render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's. For this reason even those laymen who seek only to love and serve God, whose personal lives are surrendered to God, and whose hearts are wholly intent upon Him find it difficult to exert themselves and to carve out their way in that world, a world which is not surrendered to God. "And he is divided" (1 Cor 7:33-34). The life of the Christian in the world is, unhappily, a divided one. The religious is the Christian who, in the desire to belong totally and irrevocably to God,~ leaves the world and enters a life built up and organized for the service of God, something which the world is not. The religious life in so far as it is a social frame-work for living is actually a creation of the Church for the pur-poses of the Church -- the service of God, Throughout the len.gth of her history.the Church has striven to achieve through religious life that which she tried to do as soon as she entered the world" by the grace of Pentecost; it was something that had been tried' be-fore her, for example in the monasticism of the Essenes on the shores of the Dead Sea. Her aim has been to constitute a way of life which responds perfectly, even as a social or juridical structure, to the communal and fraternal demands of the Gospel and which allows one to be at the exclusive service of God. In fact, through-out the whole history of the religious life one finds references back to the tentative attempt at communal living in the primitive Church at Jerusalem.~- Moreover, it is by expressl.y referring to Rahner, "L'apostolat des la~cs" in Nouvelle Revue Thdologique, 78 (1956), 3-32; a digest of this article may be found in Theology Digest, 5 (1957-58), 73-79. ~St. Thomas: "So that he may not turn back" (Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 186, 6, ad 1; see also Contra Gentiles, 3, 131). l~See Acts 2:44 and 4:32. Some references on this point are: F~r St. Pach-omius see L.Th. Lefort, Les vies coptes de saint Pach6me et de ses premiers successeurs [Louvain, 1943), 3, 30, and 65, 25; for St. Basil, see his Regulae brevius tractatae, int. 148, 187 (Patrologia Graeca, 31, 1180 and 1208) as well as his Regulae [usius tractatae, int. 7 (Patrologia Graeca, 31, 933); for St. Augustine see his En~arrationes in Psalmos, 132, 2 (Patrologia Latina, 37, 1729 ff.), his Sermo 355 and 356 De vita et moribus clericorurn suorum ( Patrologia Latina, 39, 1568 ff.), his De opere monachorum (C.S.E.L., 41, 529 ft.), his Regula (see below, note 21), and A. Zumkeller's Das M6nchtum des hl. Augus-tinus (Wiirzburg, 1950), 129 ft.; for St. Ambrose Autpert, see his In Cant. (Bibl. Max. Patrum, 13, 442); for St. Odo of Cluny, see his Occupatio 6 (Patrologia Latina, 133, 572) and J. Leclercq's "L'id~al monastique de saint Odon d'apr~s ses oeuvres," in A Cluny. Congrbs scientifique, 1949, 227 ff.; for St. Peter Damian, see his Opusculum 24, Contra clericos regulares proprietarios (Patrologia Latina, 145, 482-90). From the time of the reform 21 YvEs M.-J. CONGAR Review [or Religious this historical archetype that all reforms, all renewals of the religious life have been carried out. The "type" of Jerusalem, the City of Peace, the city "where all together make one body" (Ps 122:3), the place of God's habitation, has always been, for the various institutes of religious life, a kind of ideal, or "myth" in $orel's sense of the word. The religious life is a kind of earthly anticipation of the City of God. The chief forms of the religious life derive, even in those things which differentiate them, from the following principle com-mon to all: The religious life is a total consecration which is carridd out on the social level and publicly approved by the Church and which aims at the pursuit of the perfection of charity on the basis of a renouncement of that which hinders this totality, and this renouncement is made in such a way as to close to oneself the possibility of turning back. Within the bounds of this essential principle common to all, religious institutes differ from one another according to that pre-. eminent work of charity to which each one specifically devotes itself. A first overall distinction arises, for this reason, between institutes vowed to the service of the love of God alone, in Him-self, and immediately -- the contemplative life, monasticism, the eremetical life -- and institutes vowed to the service of the love of God in the exterior exercise of love and of service to the neigh-bor -- institutes specifically vowed to the works of mercy, corporal (hospitals), or spiritual (teaching), or the two together (the greater part of the missionary congregations).13 Contemplatives or monks also contribute to the salvation of the world, but only from above and in the context of the mystery of the Communion of Saints, from which comes in its secret forms that spiritual maternity which we have already mentioned and to which we shall return. From the point of view of effective activity they seem to leave the world to its damnation.Nevertheless, this is a historical fact: it is the monks who have made Christianity; of the llth and 12th centuries the references 'to Acts increase; see the studies of Ch. Dereine and others. See also J. Leclercq, La vie parfaite (Turnhout, 1948), 82-108. M.-D. Chenu, La thdologie au xii'~ si~cle (Paris, 1957), 227 ff. 13As is well known there exists a third category, that of the apostolic life, which is sometimes given the strange and little justified name of the "mixed life." In this life the superexcellent work of charity is identical with that of that agape which implies service, self-giving, apostolate, mission. It implies living in the light of faith and love to the extent of communicating them to others by means of the apostolate. But this apostolic life is almost exclusively reserved to men; and in its fullness it demands the priesthood of the Gospels. 22 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN monasticism has been --it is still, it will continue to be in the future -- preeminently the educator who teaches men not only what it is to be a Christian, but also what it is.to be human. In this way it has been the creator of much that is beautiful. It is impossible to accept grace without its showing its healing power, impossible to seek first the Kingdom of God without all these other things being added on besides (Mt 6:33; Lk 12:31). Religious devoted to the works of mercy enter into the torrent of the world to perform the work of rescue. They participate more strictly than the monks in that which in the Church is not only repose in God but also anxiety for and with men; they participate in the Church not only as a harbor of grace and the inn of the good Samaritan, but as an effective rescue service with the difficult commitment to heal the wounded on a road infested with robbers. In the duality of the Church and of the world, the monks represent essentially the distinction or opposition of the two. The Church is not of the world; and in her monks she says to it: "Do not touch me!" But the duality of the Church and of the world is not only distinction and opposition, it is also a kind of coupling; it implies a dialectical and dramatic point of contact. Not only do the Church and the world coexist in the time between Eden and the Kingdom, they exist in a certain way one with the other and one for the other. The world is, for the Church, not only~ the quarry from which she gets her stones, but also a necessary partner in a dialogue, or better, a sort of separated partner, who opposes and tests her, but with whom she must remain joined in order to try to save it. The Church is different from the world, she is grace and salvation. But in the interim between Easter and the second coming, which is her time of wayfaring and of labor, she is joined to the world as the good Samaritan was to his wounded stranger while he lifted him up and carried him, or as a lifeguard is joined to the drowning person whom he attempts to bring to the shore.~ Basic Notions: The Role of Woman in the Church One can scarcely speak of the laws of God's work, for he would thus risk giving the meaning that rules are imposed upon God extrinsically and as necessities. But one may speak of con-stants which the work itself reveals to us. And one of these constants seems to be procedure by pairs or complementary polarities. The study of tradition throughout Scripture, the fathers, and ancient ~On this point read G. Bernanos, La libertd, pourquoi faire? (Paris, 1953), 267-69; and see H. Urs yon Balthasar, Le chr~tien Bernanos (Paris, 1956), 217. 23 YVES M~-J. CONGAR Review for Religious texts and records, has convinced us more and more that this idea has played a very great role in Christian thought and institutions.~5 Among these unified dualities or complementary polarities, the first is without doubt the division of humanity into man and woman. It reappears in the Church, with the reservation that will be noted later. It is the reason that today's relatively numerous studies of "the second sex" have their counterparts, frequently stimulating ones, in Christian publications which attempt to de-termine the particular role and assets of women and hence of religious women in the Church.~ This role and these assets are connected with these larger values: a) Woman stands for receiving, welcoming, consenting; she is the "spiritual vessel." To speak of passivity would be not quite exact; receptivity is vital and active. Recall the "fiat" of the Virgin Mary, the prototype of acceptance and of the faithfulness of the Church before the God who comes, calls, asks. b) It is also said of the Virgin that "she kept all things in her heart." Man has the initiative in producing life. Woman creates for it a milieu that is intimate and warm, a home. In the home she embodies that humble faithfulness which conserves, waits, wel-comes. Man is devoted to the risks of conflict on the outside; he is the victim of its aggression; he suffers change. But thanks to his wife he has a home where he can recover intact his better self, his inner self: the freshness and poetry of love, the faithfulness to memory and to conscience, the delicacy of attention and of care.'7 Man is specialized by work and by action. Woman is nearer 15The following examples have been chosen at random and hurriedly; nevertheless the meaning and the relationships of this theme of "pairs" were a matter of profound experience in the consciousness and texts of the ancients; they will be understood better if one keeps in mind the duality in unity which is at the basis of all the examples: Man and woman, soul and body, the two sides of the body (two eyes, two hands, etc.), sky and earth, sun and moon (the "two luminaries"), the two powers, pope and emperor, the two witnesses Peter and Paul, Moses and Elias, law and grace, the Church of the Jews and the Church of the Gentiles, head and body, Scripture and tradition, baptism and confirmation [Christ and the Holy ~pirit), com-munion under two species, the two columns of the temple of Jerusalem, the two cherubim of the Ark, etc. ~6For studies by Catholics see Gertrud von Lefort, Die ewige Frau ~Munich, 1935); Maura BSckeler, Das grosse Zeichen. Die Frau als Symbol g6ttlicher Wirklichkeit (Salzburg, 1941); D'Eve tt Marie, ou le destin de la Femme in L'Anneau d'or, 1954; F.J.J. Buytendijk, La femme, ses modes d'etre, de paratt)'e et d'exister (Paris, 1957). A Protestant study is Ch. von Kirschbaum's Die wirkliche Frau (Zurich, 1949). A Greek Orthodox study is: Paul Evdo-kimov, La femme et le salut du monde. Etude d'anthropologie chrdtient~e sur les charismes de la [emme (Paris, 1958). ~TThis role of woman is well illustrated in novels such as the following: Sigrid Undset, Kristin Lavransdatter: Elizabeth Goudge, Green Dolphin Street; A. J. Cronin, Th~ Citadel. See also Alice Oll~-Laprune, Liens immortels. 24 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN to the sources of life and of elementary realities, more humbly given over to daily occupations. She has also an instinctive sensi-bility which allows her to grasp things in a more concrete, simpler, more comprehensive fashion, to see things as wholes. She gives herself more simply, and perhaps more irrevocably, in committing herself more thoroughly and totally to these things. In this total commitment of woman there is a value attested to by experience which is expressed remarkably well in the con-secration of religious women. This consecration, for the faithful and even for the priesthood, stands as a kind of oasis, a reserve storehouse of the simple life, of total, unsophisticated faith; it stands for homesteads of inviolate faithfulness softened by a gentle delicacy. There are here, along with a beehive's thrifty efficiency, treasure houses of devotedness and all the strength of an abnegation that is without ambition or defense. We will not delay on this longer because we are not sure that this precisely feminine element is so very important in the religious life. The religious life would represent in the Church rather that condition in which woman becomes most active,, closest to assum-ing initiatives and activities comparable to those of men. So she proclaims in a special way a superiority over the differences of sex and over the other conditions which divide man in his "life in Christ.''~8 If femininity exists at this level, it is that of the whole Church who is, according to patristic tradition and its develop-ment of the indications of Scripture, the New Eve beside the New Adam, Christ. That which, in the Church, represents Christ as Master, Spouse, and Father, is not the male religious institute; it is the episcopacy and the priesthood. It is easy to relate these facts to that which was said above about the two aspects of the Church: that of goal or of holiness, alongside which religious life has its special place, and that of means, alongside which the dis-tinction between priests and simple faithful has its place. The Role of Religious Woman in the Church The religious life is, in the Church, the highest approximation of the City of God. It is, in the sphere of collective realities, that portion which is nearest to being the fruit of lasting holiness (reality), that which most closely pertains to the Church as "Com-reunion of Saints" and eschatological reality. This is what we shall consider first in itself and then in its inherent value as a sign. ~sSee Gal 3:28; Col 3:11. 25 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious Religious life is first of all for God. It exists in the Church first of all as an area reserved for God. It represents the first fruits and their special worth as tokens of homage and as free gifts. Sometimes, in a corner of the countryside withdrawn from the traffic of men one finds a religious house which, humanly speaking, vegetates. But when one has become a regular visitor to such a community, one discovers that it is accomplishing an onerous duty of praise or of intercession, far from the notice or even the knowl-edge of men. "To what purpose is this waste?" ~Mt 26:8; Mk 14:4) It is the song of the bride meant only for her spouse; it is that part of the Church seen and known to God alone, to the Father "who sees in secret" (Mt 6:4; 6:18). Above and beyond all its external usefulness and all i~s ordination to extrinsic things, religious life remains a realization of the mystery of the Church or of the mystical body. It is im-possible to'emphasize this too much: before one can cooperate in the building up of the outside of the Church which is for others, it is necessary that it be built up within. A religious community is a cell of the Church; better, it is a Church in miniature.'9 It gives flesh to the mystery of the Church. The Rule of St. Augustine begins with these words, whose fulness of meaning and even whose technical validity arise out of the great Augustinian synthesis on the sacrifice of the "City redeemed as one":2° "A primary purpose for which you are gathered together in one community is that you live in the monastery with unanimity, having but one mind and one heart in the service of God.''~' Members join together in re-ligious life first of all to live the life of charity, to give reality to fraternal union according to the spirit of the Gospel. We cannot meditate too much on this truth, without which our communities will be nothing but a lie and a scandal.'-'~ The great lawgivers of ~On this theme see the valuable study of Dom Emmanuel yon Severus, "Das MSnchtum als Kirche," in Enkainia, ed. by H. Emonds (Dusseldorf, 1956), 230-48; also A. deVogu~, "Le monast~re, Eglise du Christ," in Studia Anselmiana, 42 (Rome, 1957), 25-46. ~'See De Civitate Dei, X, cc. 5 and 6. ~Patrologia Latina, 32, 1738. ~To stimulate reflection on this matter, I permit myself to cite here the two following texts which are hateful and terrible, but important: "Monks are people who bunch together without knowing each other, live together without loving each other, and die without regretting each other." ~Voltaire, L'homme aux quarante ~cus, VIII, Oeuvres completes, xxxiv, Paris, 1829, 60). "The love of God serves them as an excuse to love no one; they do not even love one another. Has anyone ever observed rea] friendship among the devout? But the more they detach themselves from men, the more they demand of men; and one could say that they do not raise themselves to God except to exercise his authority on the earth." (J.-J. Rousseau, Nouve~le Hdloise 6th Part, Letter 8). 26 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN the cenobitic life, St. Pachomius and St. Basil, expressly defended the primacy of this life over the anchoritic life on the basis of the fraternal charity and mutual edification (one of the great values in the Gospels) for which it gives the opportunity.~'~ One of the essential articles of the religious life is the achievement of a true fraternal relationship, the condition, complement, and fruit of a true relationship with God. If the Christian is an eschatological man because he is a fellow citizen with the saints, a member of the house of God (Eph 2:19), the monk is all the more truly a Christian. "But our citizenship is in heaven.''24 This is :said and it is true of all the people of God, for they are a people in exile journeying towards their fatherland. We have already received the pledge of the Spirit, the first fruits of our inheritance,2'' but only the pledge and the first fruits. We still live here below subject to the slavery of the flesh and the oppression of the devil, whom our Savior ~calls "the .Prince of this world"; all creation, subject to vanity, groans in the labor of its childbirth hoping for the glorious liberty of the children of God (Rm 8:19-23). The citizens of the heavenly city are, in this life, in the situa-tion of a people occupied by an enemy power. There are those who adjust themselves to it, there are even those who compromise and "collaborate." There are many who do not accept the enemy power, and in the midst of external conditions of servitude, they assert as far as they can their loyalty to their homeland. But some go farther and resist. They escape to the outskirts. There at least they advance With great labor the hour of liberation, they live already a life of liberty and they prepare for everyone the coming of the liberator. If the Church is like the outskirts of the world,'-'~ religious life is so in a more decided way. Religious have left their homes, their parents, their fields, the comforts of normal life, to be unburdened, free to serve the King of the Heavens. They are, by a more meaningful title, the first fruits of the new creation.~7 ~:~See H. Leclercq, "C~nobitisme," in Dictionnaire d'archdologie chrdtienne, II, 2, 3047-3248; 3093 is concerned with Saint Pachomius and 3149-50 with Saint Basil. See also Vie de Pach6me, cc. 3 and 4 in R. Draguet's Les P~res du ddsert (Paris, 1949), 90 ff., and Saint Basil, Regulae fusius tractatae, cc. 7 and 25-31 (Patrologia Graeca, 31,928 and 984 ft'.) and his Letter 295 (Patro-logia Graeca, 32, 1037). See also 0. Rousseau, Monachisme et vie religieuse d'apr~s l'ancienne tradition de l'Eglise (Chevetogne, 1957), 80 ff. 24Phil 3:20; Heb 11:13-16. ~SSee 2 Cor 1:12; Rom 8:1-30; Eph 1:14o ~See Yves M. J. Congar, Lay People in the Church (Westminster, 1957), 101. ~TSee Apoc 14:4, "the first fruits for God and for the Lamb." This idea of 27 YVES M.-J. COUGAR Review for Religious Each religious profession is like a guerilla victory by which the power of the occupying forces is checked; and without doubt Christ contemplates it with the sentiments which he expressed when the seventy-two disciples returned from their mission full of joy that the demons had given way before them: "I was watching Satan fall as lightning from heaven" (Lk 10:18). This idea of the religious life as an eschatological life~8 is fre-quently expressed in monastic tradition by the theme of the angelic life.2~ It is a perfectly valid theme. Whether one actually looks at the religious life under the aspect of virginity or under that of the spiritual marriage, which is fundamentally the same thing, or under the aspect of the perpetual praise of God (see in particular E: Peterson), or under that of the anticipation as far as possible of heavenly life, life in the presence of God, and even if one looks at this life in the details of asceticism such as vigils or fasting -- under all these aspects of religious life the theme of the angelic life is authentic, and we wish in no way to exclude it. We are convinced,, nevertheless, that certain expressions can be very dangerous and ought to be criticized in the name of biblical and Christian truth2° Historically these expressions have been somewhat distorted by influences coming from two areas: first, the assumption, without~ a critical attitude sufficiently inspired by the biblical point of view, of certain Platonic and Pythagorean ideas, in particular the idea that man consists of a soul, that the body is a tomb (a~/~a-~l/~a) from which one should free himself as much as possible with the result that perfection is made to consist in the contemplation (Oe¢op;~) of eternal, transcendent truths; second, the development of a wholly speculative theory concerning Adam and the state of paradise. We know how St. Gregory of Nyssa, for example, transposed, the final liberation from the oppo-the first fruits is especially emphasized by Dom Emmanuel von Severus, "Zu den bibiischen Grundlagen des MSnchtums," in Geist und Leben, 26 (1953), 113-22'; see also the same periodical, 27 (1954), 414 ff. -°SThis idea is developed in D. Thalhammer, S.J., Jenseitige Menschen. Eine Deutung des Ordensstandes, 2nd ed. (Freiburg, 1952); in J. Leclercq, La vie parfaite (Turnhout, 1948); in L. Bouyer, The Meaning of the Monastic Life (New York, 1955); and in O. Rousseau, op. cir. (footnote 23). ~Wexts on this are innumerable. The principal ones can be found in the works listed in the preceding note, to which the following may be added: E. Peterson, Le livre des anges (Paris, 1954); A. Lamy, "Bios angelikos," in Dieu vivant, n. 7 (1946), 59-77; J. C. Didier, " 'Angdlisme' ou perspectives eschatologiques?" in M~langes de science retigieuse, 11 (1954), 31-48; U. Ranke-Heinemann, "Zum Ideal der vita angelica im fr~ihen MSnchtum," in Geist und Leben, 29 (1956), 347-57; Emmanuel yon Severus, "Bios aggetikos," in Die Engel in der Welt yon heute, 1957, 56-70. 3°I hope to treat this problem later and on a larger scale with the needed precisions and justifications. 28 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN sition of the sexes (above, note 18) into the creative intention and held that sex had been a ~stranger to the nature of man as God had, or would have conceived of him, if He had not known ia advance that man would sin.'~ The result of this double influence, with which other factors certainly have concurred, has been not so much perhaps to give an orientation toward the recovery of a lost state of perfection, which is an eschatological expectation present in the New Testament; it has been rather to superimpose on (and perhaps to substitute for) the duality between this world and the other which is to come as the fruit of Christ's Passover, a duality between this earthly, bodily world and a celestial, in-corporeal world which is to be imitated as closely as. possible. But is the Christian ideal to be found in the condescension of God who for love entered human history as a suffering servant? Or is it instead an angelic perfection, situated in an ideal world of the spirit toward which the soul must elevate itself by certain degrees of ascension and sublimation thereby withdrawing itself progres-sively from the sensible world? We may well fear lest spirituality seek its place between heaven and earth and turn away from the history of the world and the commitment to be a savior to men's miseries, meanwhile adjusting itself to a theocracy in which the idea of subordination of body to soul ambiguously expresses itself as a basically political program of subjection of the "temporal" to the "spiritual." We find something of this, it seems, in the history of Citeaux at the height of its prosperity. At that very time the "They will be like the angels" (Lk 20:36; Mt 22:30) is transposed from eschatology to the condition of monks on the earth, something which had been completely avoided, for example, by St. Augustine2: But, on the other hand, for St. Bernard, the mysticism of that angelic life which can bear such doubtful fruits as we have just mentioned is balanced by an ardent mysticism of Christ in his humanity and of the imitation of Christ. What is important is to see, as St. Therese of Lisieux very brilliantly saw it and acted on it,'~'~ that the perfection of love con- 3*See De opificio hominis, cc. 16-17 (Patrologia Graeca, 46, 181 and 188-92). On the very subtle thought of Gregory see the Introduction of P. J. Laplace to La crdation de l'homme [Paris, 1943). St. Thomas criticizes this position in Summa Theologiae, 1, 98, 2. 3~See "Eglise et Cit~ de Dieu chez quelques auteurs cisterciens h l'~poque des Croisades," in Mdlanges Etienne Gilson [Paris, 1959) and "Henri de Marcy, abb~ de Clairvaux, cardinal-dv~que d'Albano et l~gat pontifical," in Analecta Monastica, 5 (Rome, 1958). 33See the studies of A. Combes [for example, his Saint Therese and Her Mission INew York, 1955]) and Ft. Heer, "Die Heilige des Atomzeitalters," in Sprechen wir yon der Wirklichkeit (Nuremberg, 1955), 177 ft. From the 29 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious sists essentially not in the ascending movements of an increasing spiritualization, but in a descent by the paths and the steps of humble service to the point of emptying oneselfi34 One must come to the cross where the salvation of the world is worked out and where, by losing ourselves, we work out our own salvation also. This is scriptural and it is Christian, more .scriptural and more Christian than the theme of the angelic life, traditional and valid though it may be under the conditions which have just been detailed. This angelic theme is a monastic theme. Many modern con-gregations, as they are called, have little or no contact with the great sources of monastic spirituality. They are not, for all that, safe from missteps analogous to those which the theme of the angelic life risks causing. The spirituality proposed in these con-gregations, in so far as it is legitimate to reduce it to a common denominator, is largely inspired by Jesuit authors (Rodriguez) and by the spirituality of the French school, the great French moralists and preachers of the "Great Century." But these sources, valuable certainly and even powerful as inspirers of the true Christian life, seem to bear the mark of the two following influences: first, a certain stoic influence, of which Guillaume du Vair would be a particularly representative example35 (we do not mention him for any other reason and certainly not as one of the sources). This stoic influence, diffuse as it may be, is not negligible. Many mod-ern spiritual programs depend rather largely on Christian stoicism. Second: even the great spiritual men of the French school betray the orientation of the moralist, an insistence on those themes which aim to make man conscious of his baseness and his malice, an insistence on the theme of original sin and its consequences, on the wickedness of the world and of all its aims2~ It seems that this is far from the theme of the angelic life; but the two rejoin in certain eventual consequences. There are fruitful considerations in literary viewpoint see von Balthasar, Le chr~tien Bernanos, pp. 156, 160-61, 264 ff., 457-77, 484. '~4Phil 2:7. ~See F. Strowski, Histoire du sentiment religieux en France au xvii" si~cle, I (Paris, 1910), 18-125; and P. Mesnard, "Du Vair et le N6o-stoicisme," in Revue d'histoire de la philosophie, April, 1928, 142-66. Du Vair begins from original sin and the feelings of penance to arrive at a "life in God" by passing through the practice of the cardinal virtues. ~"Some remarks concerning the influence of this spirituality on the con-gregations of teaching religious may be found in J. G. Lawler, The Christian Imagination: Studies in Religious Thought (Westminster, 1955), 38 ft. It is also necessary here to refer to the Imitation of Christ with its moralistic and individualistic perspective of the opposition between the movements of grace and the movements of nature. 3O January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN all these areas, but scriptural monotheism implies another set of values, more thoroughly oriented toward life, toward history, toward the cosmic theme of salvation. The religious life, and more especially the religious life of women, realizes with a particular intensity and purity the voca-tion of the Church to be the Virgin Spouse of the Lord and thus to become spiritually a mother. The application to the Church of these three inseparable themes: virgin, spouse, mother, whose biblical sources are not only abundant, but situated at the heart of the economy of salvation, is frequent in Christian tradition27 To wish to compare them with themes more or less verbally analogous which have been gathered from the history of religions would be to close one's mind to this. Pagan religions are nature religions which transfer to so-called transcendent persons the relationships and needs of men. They sexualise the divinity. The God of biblical revelation is in no way sexualised; He is the living God who unites men to Himself by faith. The whole relationship of alliance and of union which He establishes with man consists in the spiritual relation of faith, and faith includes a total gift, and therefore is not fully realized except by love: "I will espouse thee to me for-ever: and I will espouse thee to me in justice and judgment and in mercy and in commiserations. And I will espouse thee to me in faith" (Hos 2:19-20). That which creates between God and our-selves, between the Church and God, a marital relation is nothing other than this completely spiritual communication in faith. But this communication supposes in us the sole response of a total giving, of receptivity to the coming of God: "Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done to me according to thy word." So faith is the point of contact for an exchange of fidelity. "I will be your God and you will be my people." And therefore it is a point at which a relation of alliance is achieved, a marital union which is at the same time altogether virginal. It is altogether virginal be-cause the union is spiritual. It consists in nothing else than fidelity itself and is preserved by maintaining this fidelity, that is to say, by its very chastity. It is altogether virginal also because in this relationship of faith nothing which comes from the outside or from ~TThe bibliography is abundant; we will cite only the following: S. Tromp, "Ecclesia Sponsa, Virgo, Mater," in Gregorianum, 18 (1937), 3-29; O. Casel, "Die Kirche als Braut Christi nach Schrift, V~itern, und Liturgie," in The-ologie der Zeit, 1936, 91-111; CI. Chavasse, The Bride o] Christ: An Enquiry into the Nuptial Element in Early Christianity (London, 1940); J. C. Plumpe, Mater Ecclesia: An Inquiry into the Concept of the Church as Mother in Early Christianity (Washington, 1943); AI. Mfiller, Ecclesia-Maria: Die Einheit Marias und der Kirche (Fribourg, 1951); H. Rahner as cited above, n. 5. 31 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious that which is lower enters in, nothing which breaks or mars its integrity. There is nothing of earthly eros here. Motherhood or fruitfulness comes to this virginal and marital union as its fulfillment. The fathers say and repeat that the Church (or the soul) becomes a virgin spouse by faith, and that she also becomes a mother by faith: virgin spouse by believing, mother by communicating the faith, by engendering men in faith. Again, the relationship is altogether spiritual. It consists in faith and this is why it is superior to every kind of carnal kinship2s Precisely because of this, the vocation of the Church to be both virginal spouse and virginal mother is achieved in all the members in proportion to their fervor. For, according to a theme equally familiar to the fathers and to spiritual authors, every soul is the Church. Nevertheless in so far as God is not fully "all in all" (1 Cor 15:28), the difference between man and woman exists not only as a reality of the world, but projects itself and intervenes in a certain manner in the body of Christ which is the Church. So there exist certain differences in the manner in which men and women exercise the spiritual motherhood of the Church. The priesthood, since it is a position of external authority, is reserved to the man. But this relates to the Church under her aspect as means of grace, and therefore does not touch the religious life. as such. In its external activity a religious institute can just as well exercise apostolic functions which also relate to the Church as means of grace and represent an explicit cooperation with the action of the hierarchy where the motherhood of the Church is achieved. But the religious life as such, the religious life purely and simply, belongs rather to the Church as eschatological realiza-tion of holiness. This devotes it to being the locus of a very pure and altogether spiritual realization of the twofold relationship of virginal marriage and of motherhood. All this is particularly true in the life of women religious be-cause woman is more a being of receptivity and of self-giving: because when she gives herself, and above all whe~ she gives her-self in the integrity of her heart and of her body, she gives herself in a more intense way, a more complete and irrevocable way than man; because having fewer exterior activities and acting less out of duty and more from her heart, she makes good with her fervor that which would have been lost to her in action. For all these ~Read in this sense Mt 12:48-50 (=Mk 3:33-35; Lk 8:21); Lk 11:28. In .the same way St. Paul calls those his brothers of whom he says that he has engendered them and is their father. See above, n. 18. 32 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN reasons religious women, consecrated virgins, play a choice role in the mystery of the Church as virgin spouse of the Lord. They play also their wonderful part in the Church's spiritual motherhood. It is extremely remarkable that this doctrine was recalled to us in a very striking way precisely in a religious woman, Therese of the Child Jesus, who having entered Carmel at the age of sixteen, having died at twenty-four, and having remained unknown by the world during her life, has become not only officially but really the patroness of all Catholic missions2'~ She became all this and remains all this solely in the order of the Communion of Saints. According to St. Augustine, it is pre-cisely the Church as a union of love and a communion of saints which exercises spiritual motherhood.4° And so without exterior activity we can in our prayer and in our laborious efforts at con-version (our penances) include intentions for other men and for all the world's miserable; and we can bear them in the womb of love which is the Church's heart of prayer and charity. It is a part of tradition also that in the Church the strong support the weak (there is no question at all here of any other strength than that which comes from God in faith). This spiritual motherhood is a very profound characteristic of the Church: we believe in the Com-munion of Saints. But experience comes frequently to the aid of our weakness of faith. Who has not appealed to this strength? Who would not be able to bear witness to its reality? The Role of the Religious Woman in the Church as a Sign St. Paul says, "We have been made a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men" (1 Cor 4:9). The Church gives a visible body to spiritual gifts. So, for example, the gift of unity in Christ which has been given her becomes the "note" of unity; and that of sanctification by the Holy Spirit, the "note" of holiness. Of all these notes that of holiness is the most insistent; it is'the most efficacious also as a witness to men that the Kingdom of God draws near and calls them. It is also the most directly meaningful note because from the fact of holiness to the presence of God the inference is direct and within the grasp of all. And in this mani- 3~See above, n. 33. Pius XII said that contemplative institutes are "fully and completely apostolic," Sponsa Christi, November 21, 1950 (Acta Apos-tolicae Sedis, 43 [1951], 14). See also the letter to Cardinal Piazza of June 29, 1955, (Acta Apostoltcae Sedis, 47 [~9551, 543). 4°See for example De sancta virginitate, cc. 3 and 5 (Patrologia Latina, 40, 398-99); Sermo Denis, 25, 7 (edition by G. Morin, 162-63); Sermo 215, 4 (Patrologia Latina, 38, 1074). 33 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious festation of holiness which the Church constitutes throughout the course of history, the various expressions of religious life occupy a choice place.4~ Religious communities are living parables for men of the Kingdom of God. If we begin our consideration of this by treating what is more external in religious life, its institutions appear to us first of all as the freest and most genuine expressions of the spirit of the Church on the plane of her social manifestations. We know that the Church is an original institution put into the world by God; she proceeds from spiritual energies which come from above (Mr 16:17-18). But as this divine institution is made up of men and has a historical, terrestrial existence, she projects herself and expresses herself in creations equally historical in which, nevertheless, she injects the inspiration and the mark of her own proper genius. It would not be difficult and it would be extremely interesting to show how this special genius has from the beginning inspired institutions which are essentially communal, and at the same time respectful of the person and of his liberty, and marked with the character of service. There is truly a special Christian genius at the level of social creations.~- The religious life is perhaps the most pure and most represen-tative creation of the spirit of the Church in this area of social realities. It is not in vain that she has always loved to compare herself with the model of the first community of Jerusalem. It is marvelous to see how on the collective and judicial plane religious rules and canon law have known how to translate into institutions and laws thecommands and the inspirations of the Gospel. As a result, the institutions of religious life, just as in a certain degree the canonical life of the Church herself, become a kind of preach-ing of and witnessing to the Gospel. It is no mere coincidence that it is always the same men who fail to recognize the existence of divine positive law in the world, who deny to the Church the quality of being an institution of divine law, and who misjudge, attack, and seek to thwart or sup-press religious life. One thinks of Josephinism, of Jacobinism, of our own French laicism in its virulent form. So the religious life is not only a sign of the heavenly kingdom; it is also, along with the 4XSee Cardinal Dechamps, Entretiens, in Oeuvres, I, 467 ft.; Dora Gr~a, De l'Eglise et de sa divine constitution, II (Paris, 1907), 152. Vernon Johnson was converted by the fact of Therese of Lisieux. 42Chateaubriand and even Montalembert are dated. But there are more recent and more technical studies: E. Chenon, Le rSle social de l'Eglise and the six volumes of the Carlyle brothers, A History of Mediaeval Political Theory in the West. 34 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN sacraments and the hierarchy, a sign of the Church as a separated order, a social and public reality placed ,in the world in virtue of the right God has to affirm and to establish his reign.43 In a world which wishes to be completely autonomous, religious life, situated at the heart of the Church's garden, presents the example of a life totally "theonomous." But it is common, it is normal, that signs should be, according to the dispositions of those to whom they are shown, a call to conversion or a sign of contradiction, a sign of opposition. They can also be, even for well-disposed men, signs which scandalize if they become sign~ that lie, or signs that are simply inadequate for their mission and their aims. There is also, in the religious life, and we think particularly of the religious life of women, a human element -- sometimes too human, sometimes not human enough! Pettiness, legalism, authoritarianism, pharisaism, the spirit of ownership, hardness of heart, lack of fraternal com-munion and failure to share human misery, taste for power, a judaic spirit in the way of considering observances, especially the least important ones, precisely those from which the Gospel has liberated us. Among the causes which brought on the death of Christianity, the betrayal of their true spirit in the last centuries of the Middle Ages by a number of monastic and religious insti-tutions has justly been noted.4~ When it is authentic, the religious life is a sign that the spiritual exists. Heaven exists, and that takes the value out of the the goods and the joys of earth. Not that they are not truly goods, truly joys, but they are so relative! For "this world as we see it is passing away" (1 Cor 7:31). The religious life proposes, without the noise of words, the message of death which the Church addresses to the world, not a sorrowful message -- who is more joyful than the religious man, if not the religious woman? -- but a serious and an important one. Again, the religious life verifies in a singular manner the essence of all Christian life, which is an Easter life, a mystery of life and of death, comprehended within the message of 4'~In this connection I recall the beautiful text of A. Lamy, "Bios angelikos," in Dieu vivant, n. 7, 76: "The function of monachism in the Church seems to be to affirm the citizenship of the Christian in the city of the angels arid to affirm his rights there by the exercise of them." Religious life is one ele-ment of the eschatological right which the Church affirms and translates into the world. On this basis it could be said that religious life is of divine right, not in its various historical forms, but in its essential principle. It flows from the transcendence of the Church with respect to the world and from the right possessed by every Christian to leave the world and to thus affirm his eschatological and spiritual royalty. ~See Fr. Heer, "L'h~ritage Europe," in Dieu vivant, n. 27 (1954), 43. 35 Yvzs M.-J. CO~AR Review for Religious Ash Wednesday, "Remember that you are dust and that you will return to dust" and that of Easter Day, "Remember that you are spirit and that you will return to the Spirit." The religious life, by its mere existence, is a witness to the world that God exists; it calls the world to the obedience of faith. On either side of the chancel which closes in the choir at the abbey of Maria Laach one may read these words of St. Paul:" "I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, exhort you to walk in a worthy manner" (Eph 4:1). The religious life, therefore, has its part in the great kerygmatic function of the Church, that is, in its .lifelong exercise of the mis-sion of announcing the Good News of the Kingdom. It is like a lasting sermon against the spirit of the world. Against its freedom-worshipping and anarchical taste for liberty, religious life affirms that one can bind himself to God, that one can, in the Holy Spirit, make a spiritual thing out of that which is corporeal, and make something stable out of that which changes. Against the world's obsessive defeatism before the evil which it inflicts on itself, the religious life affirms that one can conquer the flesh and push back the empire of the devil. Finally if it is true that the very word ecclesia means con-vocation, a gathering of men in response to a call, the cal! of the Kingdom of God, the religious life situates itself at the very source of the mystery of the Church. For the religious life is, both in its substance as well as in the first act which draws one to enter into it, a total listening to God. It is a reality in the image of Mary, Mary herself being, we know, the type, and even better than the type: the perfect personification of the Church as holiness. It is possible to think that in the wide sense everything is a vocation, because everything is a response to the will of God. But there are vocations in the strict sense, and it is correct to speak of "religious vocation." In the Church, as we have seen, the strong support the weakest; docility in the following of that which is strictly a voca-tion is like a compelling example, a sign and a support for the difficult fidelity to vocations in their larger acceptation. The abso-luteness of the response of religious women to their call supports the response of all others. It is necessary that religious women know that they contribute in this way to the continuation of the whole Church, somewhat as each star in the firmament is necessary for the balance of the whole. Spiritually we all have family respon-sibilities. A last remark of some importance ecclesiologically on the subject of the religious life as a response to a special call. In the 36 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN beginnings of Christianity, baptism ratified a personal choice, an eventually dangerous one, of the faith. It was the term of a con-version. It was truly a second birth, not only in the dogmatic sense which is always true, but in the moral sense and on the psycho-logical plane. Psychologists distinguish, since Francis W. New-man, 4~ the "once born" and the "twice born": those who are simply what they were at their entrance into the world plus the results of their being" formed by it; and those who have known a revela-tion, had a decisive ~xperience, heard a call, and are truly, per-sonally, born a second time. A man baptised at the termination of a personal conversion is, psychologically and morally, a "twice born." But, in the general practice, almost universal and one might even say automatic practice of baptism of the newly born, the Church is no longer made up of the twice born except by way of exception. But it is necessary that their moral race always be represented in her midst. She is "twice born" individually by the more or less large number of faithful who are truly born of a second birth. She is "twice born" institutionally especially because of the religious life. Moreover, historically the fact has often been brought out46 that the monastic life developed at the moment when, with the end of persecution and danger and the beginning of the favor of the powerful, large masses of people entered the Church, en-dangering the strength of her leaven. The vocation to asceticism has after a fashion taken the place of the vocation to martyrdom; monks have in a way taken over the status of the martyrs as signs of an absolute response given to an absolute call. The Church's religious life always has this mission of signifying that the Christian life is a second birth whose principle is a call. We will not treat here -- we have already done it briefly elsewhere47 -- an interesting problem, but more theoretical than practical, which was posed by the researches of M. Weber and E. Troeltsch. According to these Protestant authors, religious orders answer within the Church to the needs and the religious tempera-ment which outside the Church produces sects. These would be, sociologically speaking, of the "sect" type, not of the "church" type in so far as they are groupings, first, of volunteers, men who 4~The Soul. Its Sorrows and Its Aspirations. 3rd ed., 1852, 89 ft. 4GFor example, see M. Viller, "Martyre et perfection," in Revue d'ascd-tique et mystique, 6 (1925), 4-25; L. Bouyer, op. cit. n. 28, 89 ft. and his Vie de saint Antoine (Fontenelle, 1950); J. Winandy, Ambroise Autpert, moine et thdologien (Paris, 1953), 56; Ed. E. Malone, The Monk and the Martyr: The Monk as the Successor of the Martyr (Washington, 1950). 47Vraie et [ausse r~/orme dans l'Eglise (Paris, 1950), 288-92 (includes bibli-ography). 37 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious come together in a group on the basis of a personal decision and who thus do not presuppose the existence of the group but con-stitute it; second, men who have achieved a break with the world and prefer the Gospel's opposition to terrestrial life to its universal-ism which necessarily involves compromise. Troeltsch sees in religious orders an ecclesiastical naturalization of tendencies which outside the Church result in sects. There is much truth in the analysis of Troeltsch, but only on its own psycho-sociological plane. Both above and below this level it errs. Without prejudice to other of his well made points, we be-lieve we have shown from the inside, that is to say from the view-point of the Church herself, that it is the mystery of the Church which is found to be the essential element in the life of religious orders and of each of their members. By way of conclusion, we would like to answer a question which it is impossible not to put in the context of what we have been considering. Is the religious life or is it not of the essence of the Church, and if it is, by what title? Papal teaching furnishes an answer and it will suffice merely to present it and explain it. Faced with "Americanism," Leo XIII already affirmed that religious orders are of great importance to the mission of the Church.48 But it was necessary to connect their existence with the end of the Church. The Church would not fully fulfill her mission if the institutions of religious life were lacking. If the end of the "missions," in the strict canonical sense of the word, is to "plant the Church" in such a way that she has in a given country or among a given people all her essential institutions, all the means of existence and of action, one understands why Pius XI demanded that on the missions as many religious orders and congregations as possible should be instituted, and that they should be made up of indigenous elements created in new and better forms, where the need for such arose29 His Holiness Pius XII made the matter still clearer in the constitution Provida mater of February 2, 1947, the charter of secular instutes. The two states of cleric and layman, he said, exist by divine right and are necessary to the Church in so far as she is a society constituted and structured hierarchically; they pertain to the essential structure (to the building) of the Kingdom of God 4sSee his letter Testern benevolentiae to Cardinal Gibbons, January 22, 1899, in Actes de Ldon XIII (Paris: Bonne Presse), V, 322-25; also the letter of December 23, 1900 to Cardinal Richard, ibid., VI, 188-89. ~gSee the encylical Rerurn Ecclesiae of February, 1926, in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 18 (1926), 74. 38 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN on earth.5° The Church recognizes a third state, the religious state, which is common to the two preceding states, since it includes members of the faithful who, canonically, belong to the clerical or to the lay state; this religious state is bound by a strict and peculiar relationship to the end of the Church, sanctification.5~ One can say, then, that the religious state is not essential to the Church considered in her formal elements or in her static constitutives. A bishop and faithful suffice for a Church. From this comes the well-known definition of St. Cyprian, "A people one with its priest and a flock adhering to its shepherd, these are the Church.''~ Nevertheless, as soon as the Church lives she exercises the activities for which she was put into the world. These are the activities of the sanctification of men, that is to say, of their sub-mission to the Kingdom of God and, by that fact, of their entry into her communion. Here it is that the religious life steps in as the social form of existence most strictly conformed to the needs and the conditions of the Kingdom of God. And the religious life was first seen historically under the form of the institution of con° secrated virgins. Evidently, looked at in one or other of its par-ticular forms, religious life is a creation of the Church and stands out in her history. But, looked upon in principle, that is to say as the call to live only for God and for His kingdom, it holds a place at the very heart of the Church. In her quality as bride of Christ, it is included in the obligations and the laws of holiness which this Church pursues as her proper end. ~°Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 39 (1947), 116. In his al]ocution Annus sacer, the Holy Father, citing canon 107, said that "on earth the structure of the Kingdom of God consists of a double element" (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 43 [1951], 27). ~See Provida Mater Ecclesiae and also Annus sacer, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 43 (1951), 28: "[The religious state] exists and is important, because it is closely connected to the proper end of the Church which is to lead men to the attainment of sanctity." ~2Epistula 66, 8 (Hartel's edition, p. 732; Patrologia Latina, 4, 406 where it is listed, however, as Epistle 69). 39 Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S. J. THIS ARTICLE will provide a summary of the documents which appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during August and Sep-tember, 1959. Throughout the article all page references will be to the 1959 AAS (v. 51). Encyclical on the Priesthood On August 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 545479), Pope John XXIII issued the second encyclical of his pontificate. The encyclical was entitled Sacerdotii Nostri primordia (The First Days of Our Priesthood); oc-casioned by the Pontiff's desire to honor the hundredth anniversary of the death of St. John Vianney, Cur~ of Ars, the document is devoted to a consideration of the priesthood as exemplified in the life of the saint. The introductory paragraphs recall the temporal links between the official glorification of St. John and the Pontiff's own priesthood: the future saint was beatified shortly after the Pope's own ordination to the priesthood; the first bishop the Pope served, Bishop Radini- Tadeschi, was consecrated on the day of the beatification; and the Pope received the fullness of the priesthood in the year (1925) when the Cur~ of Ars was declared a saint. The Holy Father then lists the great papal documents on the priesthood that have appeared during the present century: Pius X's Haerent animo (Acta Pii X, 4, 237-64); Plus XI's Ad catholici sacerdotii fastigium (AAS, 28 ~19361, 5-53); Pius XII's Menti Nostrae (AAS, 42 [1950], 657-702); and the same Pontiff's three allocutions on the priesthood inspired by the canonization of Plus X (AAS, 46 119541, 313-17; 666-77). To these documents the Pope has now added his own in the hope that it may aid priests to preserve and increase that divine friendship which is at once the joy and strength of the priestly life. In expressing the purpose of the encyclical the Vicar of Christ remarked that he intended to retrace the chief traits of the holiness of the Cur~ of Ars, since these emphasize those aspects of the priestly life which, while always essential, are today so vital that the Pontiff has deemed it his apostolic duty to call attention to them. Priestly Asceticism and Mortification In the first of the three parts of the main body of the encyclical the Pope considered the priestly asceticism and mortification of the Cur~. To speak of the saint, he began, is to evoke the figure of an 4O ROMAN DOCUMENTS exceptionally mortified priest who for the love of God deprived himself of nourishment and sleep, practiced severe, penances, and exercised a heroic self-renouncement. His example, the Holy Father said, should recall to all the important place of the virtue of penance in the perfec-tion proper to the priesthood. While it is true that priests as such are not bound by divine law to the evangelical counsels, still this does not mean that the priest is less bound than religious to strive for evangelical perfection of life. Rather the accomplishment of the priestly functions "requires a greater interior sanctity than even the religious state does" (St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 184, 8, c). And if the evangelical counsels are not imposed on the priest by virtue of his clerical state, nevertheless they are offered to him, as to all Christians, as the safest road to the longed for goal of Christian perfection. The Cur~ of Ars, continued the Pope, is a model of evangelical poverty; he lived totally detached from the things of this world. Freed in this way from the bonds of material things, he could thereby be entirely open to all those who suffered and who flocked to him for solace. His disinterestedness made him especially attentive to the poor whom he treated with tenderness and respect, convinced that to con-temn the poor is to contemn God Himself. Priests, then, if they possess material things, should not cleave to them with cupidity; rather should they recall the directives of canon law (c. 1473) according to which what is left over from ecclesiastical benefices should be used in favor of the poor and of pious causes. The Pontiff, however, made it clear in the closing part of this section that he does not approve the abject poverty to which many priests in small towns and in the country are reduced, and he urged the faithful to cooperate with the bishops to see that the sacred ministers be not lacking in what is necessary for their daily sustenance. Turning to the second of the evangelical counsels, the Vicar of Christ then pointed out that all through his life the Cur~ was mortified in his body and that this was achieved by his constant and careful observance of chastity. His example, the Pope pointed out, is most necessary today; for in many places priests must live in an atmosphere of excessive license and pleasure. And at times they must live in such an atmosphere unsupported by the sympathetic understanding of the faithful they serve. In spite of these difficulties John XXIII called upon priests to show forth in their entire lives the splendor of the virtue of chastity, that noblest ornament of their sacred order, as Pius X called it. The chastity of the priest, he added, will not enclose him in a sterile egoism; for as the Cur~ of Ars himself once said: "The soul that is adorned with the virtue of chastity can not but love others; for such a person has found the source and origin of all love---God." The next component of the Cur~'s asceticism to be considered by the Holy Father was his obedience. The Pontiff emphasized that the 41 l~ F. SMtT~ Rewew for Rehgmus "I promise" of the Cur$'s ordination ceremony was the occasion of a permanent self-renouncement that lasted throughout forty years. From early youth the ardent desire of the Cur~ had been for solitude, and his pastoral responsibilities were a heavy burden preventing him from the fulfillment of this desire; many times he tried to be freed from his pastoral work but always remained obedient to the will of his bishop, convinced as he was of the Gospel phrase: "Whoever hears you, hears me" (Lk 10:16). The Vicar of Christ then expressed the hope that the priests of today would see in the Curg the grandeur of obedience and would recall the words of Pius XII: "Individual holiness as well as the efficacy of all apostolic work finds its solid foundation in constant obedience to the hierarchy." Accordingly priests should endeavor to develop in themselves the sense of the filial relationship by which they are united to Mother Church. Prayer and Devotion to the Eucharist In the second principal division of the document, John XXIII reflected on St. John as a model of prayer and of devotion to the Eu-charist. Prayer, he said, was as important in the saint's life as was penance and mortification. His love for prayer was shown in his long nightly vigils of adoration before the Blessed Sacrament; the tabernacle of his parish church became for him the center from which he drew the strength necessary for his own personal life and for the effectiveness of his apostolic endeavors. This example of the Cur6, the Vicar of Christ pointed out, is sorely needed by the priests of today; for they are keenly sensible of the effectiveness of action and hence easily tempted to a dangerous activism. The Cur~ of Ars should convince priests everywhere that they must be men of prayer and that they can be such, no matter how heavy the press of apostolic labors may at times become. The prayer of the Cur~, he continued, was especially a Eucharistic prayer; for nothing in the life of a priest can replace silent and prolonged prayer before the altar. Nor should it be forgotten that Eucharistic prayer in the fullest sense of the word is to be found in the sacrifice of the Mass. The celebration of the Mass is an essential part of the priestly life, for in what does the apostolate of the priest consist if not in the gathering together of the people of God around the altar? It is through the Mass that in one generation after another the mystical body of Christ that is the Church is built up. Moreover the entire sanctifica-tion of the priest must be modeled on the sacrifice he offers; the priest must make his own life a fitting sacrifice, a participation in the expiatory life of the Redeemer. It was for this reason that the Cur~ used to ob-serve that if priests lose the first fervor of their ordination it is because they do not celebrate piously and attentively. 42 January, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Pastoral Zeal In the third part of the encyclical the Vicar of Christ delineates the pastoral zeal of St. John Vianney. The Curg's life of asceticism, he observed, together with his life of prayer was the source from which flowed the effectiveness of his ministry; in him is verified once more the statement of Christ: "Without me you can do nothing" (Jn 15:5). As a result, the Curg was a model shepherd of souls who knew his flock, protected it from danger, and led it with authority and wisdom. His example, the Pope continued, included three points of utmost import-ance. The first of these was his keen appreciation of his pastoral re-sponsibilities. From the beginning he conceived of his pastoral work in heroic fashion and expressed his attitude in one of his early prayers: "Grant, O God, that~ the people entrusted to me may be converted. For this I am prepared to suffer all the days of my life whatever You may wish." Following the example of apostles of all ages he saw in the cross the one great effective means of saving souls; so it was that he could advise a fellow priest who was disappointed in the results of his apostolic endeavors that prayer, supplications, sighs, and groans were insufficient unless there was added to them fastings, vigils, and bodily chastisement. Besides his general sense of his pastoral responsibilities the Curg manifested his pastoral zeal by his interest and care for preaching and catechizing. Up to the time of his death St. John never ceased to preach, to instruct, to denounce evil, and to lead souls towards God. This should remind today's priests, the Pope said, that everywhere and at all times they must be faithful to their duty of preaching; for, as Pius X insisted, no task of the priest is more important than this. And in their reflections upon their duty to teach, priests should remember that they preach more by their lives than by their words. The third element in the pastoral zeal of the Cur~ of Ars was, according to the encyclical, his work as confessor. It was this form of his ministry that became the real martyrdom of his life. His fifteen hours a day in the confessional would have been difficult in any case; but these were spent by a man already exhausted by fasting, penances, and infirmities. It can be said, the Pope continued, that the Cur~ lived for sinners; their conversion and sanctification was the aim of all his thoughts and of all his activities. Like the Cur~ priests must devote themselves to the work of the confessional, for it is there that the mercy of God meets and overcomes the malice of men. And they must set their people a good example in this matter by their own regular and fervent use of the sacrament of penance. In the conclusion to the encyclical the Pontiff expressed the desire that the centenary of the Curg may arouse in all priests a desire to accomplish their ministry and especially their own perfection as gen-erously as possible. No problem facing the Church today, he added, 43 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious can be solved without priests. As Plus X said: "To promote the King-dom of Christ throughout the world, nothing is more necessary than a holy clergy." Similarly St. John himself pointed out to his bishop: "If you wish to convert your diocese, you must make saints of all your priests." The Pontiff went on to urge the bishops of the world to make the care of their priests their first solicitude; he exhorted the faithful to pray for priests and to contribute to their sanctification; and he pleaded with Christian youth to reflect that "the harvest is great, but the harvesters are few" (Mt 9:37) and that entire peoples are today enduring a spiritual starvation far greater than any hunger of the body. Allocutions, Addresses, Messages On July 29, 1959 (AAS, pp. 586-89), the Holy Father addressed a congress of the blind and those interested in assisting the blind of the world. Pointing out to his audience that in Jesus' ministry of healing the first place was reserved for the blind, the Pontiff went on to deliver a message of hope to the blind of the world. They must remember, he began, that they have a suffering to offer up to God. In spite of all efforts to ease the lot of the blind, they will always be subject to dis-couragement, loneliness, and the weight of sorrow that blindness carries with it. Yet they must recall that according to the Apostle (Col 1:24) men must fill up what is lacking to Christ's passion and that in the redemptive plan the Lord has need of the daily offering of suffering on the part of the blind. The Vicar of Christ also pointed out that the blind have a definite mission to perform in this world, the mission of silent example that only one thing matters in this world: the love with which the will of God is accomplished. And he added that nothing on tbis earth is loss, as long as conformity with God's will is present. In the concluding part of his address the Pope recalled to his listeners that their goal is that of eternal life and that their journey thither is supported by the words of Christ: "Whoever follows me walks not in darkness, but has the light of life" (Jn 8:12). Blindness, he ended, can prepare those afflicted with it for the shining luminosity which will come in the next life from the glorified Christ. On August 20, 1959 (AAS, 639-41), the Pontiff radioed a message to the Second World Sodality Congress held at Newark, New Jersey. He told the sodalists that they were in the first ranks of the Church's army and stressed in their lives the role of their consecration to the Blessed Virgin, a consecration which of its nature includes the proposal to keep it throughout life. From this consecration, he continued, arises the desire to wish for nothing except what is pleasing to God and the resolution to strive by prayer, action, and example to serve the Church and to work for the eternal salvation of souls. On July 21, 1959 (AAS, pp. 584-85), the Holy Father delivered an allocution to the Prime Minister of Japan on the occasion of that 44 January, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS dignitary's official visit to the Holy See. On August 16, 1959 (AAS, pp. 638o39), he delivered a radio message to the people of.Honduras on the occasion of the official consecration of their nation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, telling them to strive to live in the grace of God, to preserve the sanctity of the family, and to maintain union and concord among themselves. On June 30, 1959 (AAS, p. 589), the Holy Father sent a written message to the Tenth World Boy Scout Jamboree held in the Philippine Islands. In the message he pointed out that the boy scout movement can produce admirable fruits in accordance with the ideals of Christian charity and universal brotherhood. Miscellaneous Documents By the apostolic letter, "Caritatis unitas," of May 4, 1959 (AAS, pp. 630-33), the Vicar of Christ approved the confederation of the various congregations of the Order of Canons Regular of St. Augustine. At the same time he also approved the general principles which are to govern the confederation and directed the members of the confedera-tion to draw up specific statutes for the confederation which should then be submitted to the Holy See for approval. A later apostolic letter, Salutiferos cruciatus Christi, dated July 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 634-36), was directed to the Passionists. In the letter the Pontiff approved the revised form of the Passionists' constitutions and rules. He noted that the revision was undertaken in an effort to adapt the institute to the needs of the times and observed that in the revision the primary and fundamental characteristics of the institute had been reasserted, strengthened, and made more effective. On July 8, 1959 (AAS, pp. 592-93), the Sacred Congregation of Rites issued a decree approving the Office and Mass of St. Lawrence of Brindisi, confessor and doctor. The text of the Office, of the Oration of the Mass, and of the notices to be inserted into the martyrology is given in AAS, pp. 593-94. Another decree of the same Congregation was dated February 13, 1959 (AAS, pp. 590-92); this decree approved the introduction of the causes of the Servant of God Salvatore Lilli (1853-1895), professed priest of the Order of Friars Minor, and his companions, all of Whom were put to death in hatred of the faith. In the period under survey three documents of the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary appeared. Under the date of July 18, 1959 (AAS, pp. 595-96), the Penitentiary published the revised text of the act of dedi-cation to Christ the King as well as its attached indulgences. This document is given in full on pages 3 and 4 of the present issue of RE-VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. On August 13, 1959 (AAS, pp. 655-56), the Penitentiary published the text of a prayer composed by the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities to be recited by semi-narians for their parents. Seminarians who devoutly and contritely recite the prayer for their parents may gain an indulgence of fifty 45 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS Review for Religious days; and once a month they may gain a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions provided they have recited the prayer for a whole month. On the same date (AAS, p. 656), the Penitentiary announced that the faithful who in a church, a public oratory, or (in the case of those legitimately using it) a semi-public oratory privately perform the pious exercise commonly called the holy hour in memory of the passion, death, and ardent love of our Lord Jesus Christ may gain a plenary indulgence, if they have gone to confession, received Com-munion, and prayed for the intentions of the Holy Father. This new concession of an indulgence for this practice is not intended to abrogate the partial indulgence of ten years mentioned in the Enchiridion in-dulgentiarum (Manual of Indulgences), 1952 edition, n. 168. On May 18, 1959 (AAS, p. 647), the Sacred Consistorial Congrega-tion appointed Archbishop Concha of Bogot~ military vicar of Columbia. Views, News, Previews IN A PREVIOUS issue (Review for Religious, 18 [1959], 237), the beginning of a new quarterly, Jesus Caritas, was noted. Response to the new magazine, which is devoted to the spirituality of P~re de Foucauld, has been sufficient to warrant the continuation of its publi-cation. The latest issue has been that of September, 1959. The yearly subscription price has been set at $1.00; in Canada and the United States subscription orders should be sent to: Jesus Caritas 700 Irving Street, N.E. Washington 17, D. C. The first congress of the Confederation of Benedictine Congrega-tions to be held since the promulgation of the confederation's laws by Pius XII in 1952 took place during the latter part of September, 1959. At the congress Dom Benno Gut, Abbot of Einsiedeln in Switzerland, was elected Abbot Primate of the Confederation. The new primate was born on April 1, 1897, was professed in 1918, and ordained in 1921. After studies and a teaching career at Sant'Anselmo in Rome, he was elected abbot of Einsiedeln in 1947. The Cassinese Benedictine Congregation, largest of the fifteen included in the Benedictine Confederation, in a general chapter at Subiaco during October, 1959, elected Dom Celestino Gusi, Abbot of Manila, as the eleventh Abbot General of the congregation. The Graduate Department of Religious Education, Immaculate Heart College, 2021 North Western Avenue, Los Angeles 27, Cali- 46 January, 1960 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS fornia, announces a two-week course in canon law for religious superiors, which will grant two units of graduate credit. The course, conducted by the Reverend Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Maryland, will be open to major and local su-periors of all communities of sisters. It is scheduled for the afternoons of June 28 to July 9, 1960. The tuition is $32. The fourth course in the new program in ascetical theology, which is offered in the Graduate Department of Religious Education, Im-maculate Heart College, will be given by the Reverend Eugene Burke, C.S.P., professor of dogmatic theology at Catholic University of America, from July 11-15, 1960. The course is entitled "The Life of Grace and Growth of Virtue" and grants one unit of graduate credit. Sisters who did not apply for admission to the M.A. program when it began in October, 1959, may apply for admission now. Residence ac-commodations are available for the five-day course at Holy Spirit Retreat House in Los Angeles. All reservations must be made before June 1, 1960, and be accompanied by a ten-dollar deposit. Room and board is $20; tuition is $17.50. Inquiries should be directed to Sister Mary Thecla, I.H.M., Dean of the Graduate School, Immaculate Heart College. A new publication that should prove both interesting and important is the Seminary Newsletter, the first issue of which appeared in October, 1959: The Newsletter is issued by the Seminary Department of the National Catholic Educational Association and "is meant to be a clearinghouse of information about seminaries and seminary training, especially from the academic point of vigw; a clearinghouse of ideas, projects, and results of research." Included in the first issue of the Newsletter is an informative statistical report on Catholic seminaries in the United States. According to the report, during the academic year 1958-1959 there were 381 major and minor seminaries in the United States; of these 99 were diocesan institutions, the other 282 belonging to religious orders and congregations. The report notes "that 131 of the 381 seminaries in the United States have been founded since 1945; 108 since 1950. This means that 34% of the total number have been founded since World War II, 28% of them since 1950. It represents a 53 % increase in the number of seminaries since 1945 and a 40% increase since 1950." The report gives 38,503 as the total num-ber of young men studying for the priesthood in the United States. This number includes besides minor and major seminarians 2082 novices as well as 920 scholastics who have interrupted their seminary studies to teach. In REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 18 (1959), 304-05, Father Gallen discussed the quest~ion whether more American congregations are be- 47 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Rewew for Rehgmus coming pontifical and presented some statistics on the matter covering the years 1943 to 1957. A study of L'attivit~ della Santa Sede nel 1958 (The Activity of the Holy See in 1958), published in 1959 by the Vatican Polyglot Press gives data from the year 1958 on the same matter. According to the report of the Sacred Congregation of Religious that is given in the volume, during 1958, fifteen institutes received the decree of praise; two of these were in the United States: the Missionary Servants of the Most Blessed Trinity (M.S.B.T.) of Philadelphia founded in 1916 and the Missionary Sisters of the Most Holy Trinity (M.S.SS.T.) of Washington founded in 1921. The Congregation also reported that during 1958 there were seventeen institutes which re-ceived the definitive approval of their constitutions; of these none was in the United States. The Congregation's report also contained informa-tion about secular institutes: two secular institutes were granted diocesan establishment, one received the decree of praise, and one, the decree of final approbation; none of these four was in the United States. During the same year the Sacred Congregation of the Propagation of the Faith granted the decree of praise to one institute in Ireland and gave definitive approval to the Daughters of Mary of Uganda, Africa. It is interesting to note that this last institute is the first pontifical African institute for women. ( uestions and Answers IThe following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S. J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] Our constitutions command the mistress to be with the novices always and, if she should be absent from the house, to learn on her return everything that happened during her absence. I do not think that any mistress has followed either injunction literally, but these two prescriptions have caused a highly exaggerated surveillance. Shouldn't the observance of both be tempered by intelligent prudence? Yes. The first injunction, that the mistress should be with the novices always, is in many constitutions, the second only in very few. The first injunction is also and unfortunately observed in many insti-tutes. This is an evidently false spiritual pedagogy. It simply does not work in any field of the development of character and it is unworthy of the religious state, which is a spontaneous, voluntary, and personal dedication of oneself to Christ. The fundamental purpose of the novice-ship is to give the novice a profound consciousness of God, not of the master or mistress. The novice is to be led to a convinced personal dedication of herself to God; her life is to be a personal committment, 48 January, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS not forced external observance; she is to be trained to think for herself, to personal decisions, and to a sense of responsibility and reliability. The noviceship should be a school that will equip the novice for the life she will actually have to live. She should be instructed and guided but allowed sufficient freedom of action; otherwise you will know what she appears to be but not what she is. She should be checked and corrected, and even more frequently than is commonly done; but this does not demand unceasing vigilance. The more a superior tries to see, the less he will learn. No superior has to try to see everything in order to learrL what he should know. I hazard the conjecture that reticence about interior matters increases in direct proportion to external observation. That the novice mistress or her assistant should be with the novices frequently is intelligent and prudent; that she should be with them always is simply destructive of the purpose intended. Only God. can see everything, and God as one's judge is not the motive of the religious life. The following quotation from a religious woman contains several thought-provoking observations. The principles for the formation of character in congregations are for the most part taken from a psychology of a distant past. This, in the case of women, only aimed at creating habits of will power, furnishing the mind with knowledge learnt by heart, and very little was done to appeal to the interest. They disregarded the education of the senses, any development of initiative and sense of responsibility and the deep needs of feelings. The new psychology seeks to develop the virtues and activities that they may adapt themselves and form personalities . Deeper problems lie in the change of the feminine way of living. In the depth of her being the woman is rather passive. In past centuries the life of a woman matched this interior disposition, but today matters have changed. Modern life forces woman to greater independent activity. She has had to take over responsible work both in private and public life. Her mode of living gets nearer to the masculine type, though at the expense of her individuality. (Sister Agnes, S.I-I.C., Religious Life Today, 162-63.) 2 Our constitutions do not mention at all the canonical requisites for a higher superior. You have already explained these partially. Will you please explain them fully? Canon 504 demands the three personal qualities listed below for the valid election or "appointment of any higher superior of men or women. Age is the only variable element among the three canonical requirements. All of these three impediments established in canon 504 are dispensable but only by the Holy See. The higher superiors in the sense of this canon are the abbot primate; abbot superior of a mon-astic congregation; the abbot .of an independent monastery, even if the monastery appertains to a monastic congregation; the mothers general and regional of federations and superioresses of monast

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