RAPE AND SHAME IN J.M. COETZEE'S DISGRACE Salman Muhiddin English Literature, Faculty of Languages and Arts, Surabaya State University salmanlatieff@gmail.com Drs. Much. Khoiri, M.Si English Department, Faculty of Languages and Arts, Surabaya State University much_choiri@yahoo.com Abstrak Pemerkosaan adalah setiap tindakan yang tidak diinginkan , manipulasi atau pemaksaan dalam bentuk aktivitas seksual. Tindakan pemerkosaan berdampak bagi pemerkosa dan korbannya. Dampaknya terhubung ke masalah psikologis , seperti kecemasan , depresi , dan gangguan mental lainnya serta perilaku moral yang bermasalah. Skripsi ini difokuskan pada tindak perkosaan yang dialami oleh karakter dan bagaimana hal itu menyebabkan rasa malu dalam novel Disgrace karya JM Coetzee. Secara khusus, tujuan skripsi ini adalah untuk mendeskripsikan bagaimana gambaran perkosaan yang dialami oleh karakter dan untuk mengungkapkan bagaimana perkosaan itu menyebabkan rasa malu dalam novel Disgrace karya J.M. Coetzee. Dalam analisisnya, skripsi ini menggunakan beberapa proses analisis , yaitu: (1) mengklasifikasikan kutipan-kutipan yang sejalan dengan masalah laporan, (2) menggambarkan tindakan perkosaan yang telah dialami oleh karakter, (3) mengungkapkan bagaimana pemerkosaan menyebabkan malu. Hasil analisis menunjukkan bahwa ada tiga macam pemerkosaan yang digambarkan dalam cerita. Pemerkosaan pertama terjadi antara David dan pekerja seks bernama Soraya. Pemerkosaan kedua terjadi antara David dan muridnya, Melanie. Yang ketiga dialami oleh putri David, Lucy. Setelah pemerkosaan itu, pelaku dan korban perkosaan merasa malu. David sebagai pemerkosa mendapatkan aib dan tekanan publik dari komite universitas dan mahasiswanya. Dia kemudian meminta maaf kepada keluarga Melanie. Sedangkan korban akan merasa malu untuk tampil di publik karena mereka takut aibnya terbongkar. Kata Kunci: Pemerkosaan, Malu, Aib Abstract Rape is any unwanted, manipulated or coerced forms of sexual activity. The act of rape has an impact to both the rapists and the rape survivors. The impact is connected to psychological problems, such as anxiety, depression, and other mental disorders as well as problematic moral behaviour. This study focuses on the characters' experience in raping and being raped, and how it leads to shame in J.M. Coetzee's Disgrace. In particular, the purpose of this study is to describe how rape is depicted by the characters and to reveal how the characters' rape leads to shame in J.M. Coetzee's Disgrace. In the analysis, this study does some processes of analysis, they are: (1) classifying the quotations which are in line with the problem of statements, (2) describing the rape that has been experienced by the characters, (3) revealing how rape leads to shame. The result of the analysis shows that there are three kinds of rape which is depicted in the story. The first rape is happened between David and the prostitute named Soraya. The second rape is between David and his student, Melanie. The third one is experienced by David's daughter, Lucy. After the rape, the rapist and the rape survivors get shame. David is getting disgrace and gets public pressure from the university committees and the students. He then ask for apologize to Melanie's family. While the rape survivors are getting shame after being raped. They are shame to make a public appearance because they are afraid of being discovered or found out by another person. Keywords: Rape, Shame, Disgrace INTRODUCTION The definition of rape varies state-to-state and can include anything from touching to actual penetration, but, generally, rape is any "unwanted, non-consensual, manipulated or coerced forms of sexual activity" (http://www.umich.edu). The act may be carried out by physical force,coercion, abuse of authority or against a person who is incapable of valid consent, such as one who is unconscious, incapacitated, or below the legalage of consent.The termrapeis sometimes used interchangeably with the termsexual assault, and the term of violent change into rape survivor. The rape effects can include both physical trauma and psychological trauma. Rape will also lead to shame. The feeling is connected to psychological problems such as eating disorders, substance abuse, anxiety, depression, and other mental disorders as well as problematic moral behavior. The shame is also reformed from some culture that sees the rape victims are dirt. For example, a rape victim especially one who was previously a virgin, may be viewed by society as being damaged. According to Alliance, victims in these cultures may suffer isolation, be disowned by friends and family, be prohibited from marrying, and be divorced if already married, or even killed. This phenomenon is known as secondary victimization. Secondary victimization is the re-traumatization of the sexual assault, abuse, or rape victim through the responses of individuals and institutions. Rape also affects the rapist. If someone known as a rapist he will be the public enemy. The rapist may lose their dignity, job, and friends. Punishment for rape in most countries today is imprisonment. Thus he will get ashamed but the right term for rapist is disgrace. On the previous study Feminine Shame Masculine Disgrace, Nurka put little bit different from shame, "people with disgrace will automatically being shame. Disgrace is brought from without ('put to shame'), or is directed outward from its source ('a person who or thing which is the cause or source of disgrace')." (Nurka, 2012: 311). J.M. Coetzee is a South African writer born under the apartheid government. Coetzee is unveiling many fragile topics in South Africa from many of his books. He elegantly put the theme rape over the race to depict the social condition of 'New South Africa'. Rape of women by men has occurred throughout recorded history and across cultures. As the novel background, South Africa is often labeled the rape capital of the world. The prevalence of rape, and particularly multiple perpetrator rape, is unusually high. Coetzee puts the concept of rape and shame in novel 'Disgrace'. The narrative follows a white South African professor's, David Lurie, escape to his daughter's farm, after he raped his student, Melanie. The farm is soon attacked and robbed by three black men, and the daughter raped. As father and daughter piece together their strained relationship and individual lives, they must reconcile their positions in the "New South Africa," to Lucy, is gang-raped by three men on her smallholding in the Eastern Cape, but she chose to say nothing about what happened to her. She decided to take the shame on her own. While on David, he rents a room in Grahmstown to help his daughter at the market once a week and to dedicate himself to the disposal of the dogs' bodies at the shelter. He cannot back to Cape Town because he has nothing left there for his disgrace. The university had replaced him with another professor. Once he went to Melanie house bring up all his disgrace to ask for forgiving to her parents for what he did through Melanie and family. In accordance of background study above, it can be simplify to discuss among two problems that emerge as significant concern toward this novel. How rape is depicted by the characters in J.M. Coetzee's Disgrace? How the characters' rape leads to shame in J.M. Coetzee's Disgrace? To answer the first problem, this study uses the concept of rape. Rape is a multidetermined behaviour that will ultimately be explained only by models incorporating a multitude of dimensions." (Prenkty and Knight, 1991: 657). The dimensions that are possibly to explain rape are through feminist theory, evolutionary theory, self-controlled theory, narcissistic theory, and crime theory. (Lowell, 2010: 159-161). Those theories can be used to help explain how rape occurs. Feminist theorists explain that the culture of male dominance is responsible for rape occurring. On his book Rethinking Rape, Cahill simply delivered that feminist theorists assert that rape is only one symptom of the larger problem of a male dominated society. Feminist theorists see rape as more of a violent act than a sexual act, and claim that rape is inspired by political motivations to dominate and degrade. Feminist theorists also deny that rape has an individualistic nature, but claim that rape is "nothing more or less than a conscious process of intimidation by which all men keep all women in a state of fear" (Cahill, 2001:16). Self control theory can lead to a man committing rape against a female. It is based on the premise that the male sex drive is uncontrollable. Men with this belief say that their sexual urges cannot be controlled and they are not responsible for their actions. Proponents of this theory "[propose] both that men's sexual energy is difficult to control and that women have a key role in its loss of control," since women deny sex to men who have to relieve their sexual drive (Polaschek & Ward, 2002, p. 13). This theory can be tied to Gottfredson and Hirschi's low self-control theory. Low self-control theorists posit that, since criminal acts provide immediate gratification, criminals will engage in them because they are not able to defer gratification. A biological explanation of rape includes Thornhill and Palmer's evolutionary theory of rape .Proponents of this theory claim that those men who were able to force their sexual desires on women were able to reproduce more efficiently, and thus have more offspring with their traits. Thornhill and Palmer are "dismissive of rape theories that emphasize the role of culture and learning in the acquisition of rape-prone traits, arguing that culture is only possible because individuals have evolved capacities that enable them to learn" (Siegert & Ward, 2002:6). Another theory that can explain rape is the narcissistic reactance theory, which is also tied to Gottfredson and Hirschi's (1990) low self-control theory. In this theory, narcissists are defined as having a "lower proneness to shame and guilt," having "unrealistically positive self-evaluations," and being "especially likely to respond to bad evaluations by blaming other sources, including the evaluator and the technique of evaluation" (Baumeister et al., 2002: 3). These theorists claim that the, "tendency to respond to esteem threats by getting angry and blaming others may contribute to the elevated level of interpersonal difficulties that narcissists report" (Baumeister et al., 2002: 4). The second problem is using the concept of shame. Some victims of rape are feeling dirty, devalued, and humiliated as a result of a sexual assault. Feelings of shame are often related to the powerlessness and helplessness victims experience during a sexual assault. Shame may also be a reaction to being forced by the assailant to participate in the crime. Shame is the painful feeling of having done or experienced something dishonourable, improper and foolish. Shame is what prevents many survivors from speaking about what happened to them. Shame is an attack on the survivor as a person. It is the feeling you get when you are sure that someone will think poorly of you because you were assaulted. Shame is longer lasting, and ultimately more dangerous than guilt. The feeling of shame is so intense for rape victims that many of them never tell anyone what happened to them. Even in psychotherapeutic settings, victims of rape often avoid talking about what happened to them. (http://www.healthyplace.com/abuse/articles/guilt-and-shame-of-being-raped/, retrieve on: 15 April 2014). Shame is already bears the germ of guilt. Shame becomes guilt when the social norms are internalized as one's own feelings of value and when self-condemnation anticipates public exposure. This presupposes the development of a personal centre, with the beginning capacity to regard oneself as the originator of one's actions, to evaluate and feel responsible for them. In contrast to shame, guilt is no more bound to the immediate presence of the other; its impact is more lasting. The event one is to be blamed for sin in the past. Thus the present rejection of shame becomes the already executed expulsion of elementary guilt. Instead of being exposed to, and paralyzed by, the others' gazes, the culprit feels, as it were, already abandoned. (Thomas Fuchs, 2003: 8). RESEARCH METHOD Research method that used in this analysis here must be qualified as an applying in literary appreciation. The thesis is regarded as a descriptive-qualitative study and uses a library research. This study uses novel of J.M. Coetzee, entitled Disgrace that published by Vintage, Random House, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road, London, Great Britain, 1999 as the main data of the study. The data are in the form of direct and indirect speech of the characters, dialogues, epilogues and quotations which indicate and represent aspect of rape by the characters that lead to shame. This thesis is using the library method in collecting the data. It does not use the statistic method. That is why it is not served in numbering or tables. Library research used an approach in analyzing this study. The kind of library research which is used here is intensive or closely reading to search quotations or phrases. It also used to analyze the literary elements both intrinsic and extrinsic. The references are taken from library and contributing ideas about this study from internet that support the idea of analyzing. The analysis is done by the following steps: (1) Classification based on the statement of the problems. This classification is used to avoid the broad discussion. There are two classifications in this study. They are the depiction of rape and how it leads to shame. (2) Describing David Lurie's and Lucy's rape which is stated from the quotations or statements. (3) Describing how the shame and disgrace they got which is stated from the quotations or statements. (4) Revealing the relations between rape and shame. The quotations that showed how the characters' rape leads to shame are taken as data. (5) Drawing the conclusion based on the analysis which is in line with the problems. ANALYSIS The first analysis is the depiction of rape. In Disgrace the rape parted in three different background and motif. The first rape is from David to Soraya the prostitute woman. David uses his financial advantages to buy woman for sex. After the relationship with Soraya ended David engage to a scandal with his Student Melanie. David admits that he misused his authority as a lecturer to have sex with his student. This depicts the condition of male domination particularly in South Africa. The last rape happened to David's' daughter, Lucy. She raped by three black African intruders. The rape of Lucy remains mystery for her silence to not tell the policemen about the incident. In his age of fifty two, and divorced, David proclaim that he has solved problem of sex rather well even without a wife. However, the reason of his 'solved problem of sex' for over one year is Soraya, a high-class prostitute girl from an escort service. She is a coloured woman that David has a historical interest. She has a honey brown body. She is tall and slim, with long black hair and dark, liquid eyes. Simply said this beautiful girl becomes his sources of happiness. "It surprises him that ninety minutes a week of a woman's company are enough to make him happy, who used to think he needed a wife, a home, a marriage" (Coetzee, 1999:5). David's ideal marriage is with a wife that is a prostitute, but for him only and only at certain times. He met Soraya only on Thursday. On the other day he is back to his normal life. With Soraya he already find the happiness he belief. It makes him thought; there is no need to search for another life destination such as home and real wife. It made David rely on prostitution in his sexual life. Prostitution as the solution allows him to fantasize that a woman mirrors his wishes. He bought sex he wanted and she got extra money from him. For David money is no problem concerning that he lived alone with his salary as a professor and lecturer. As a consequence, he paid double for her. At least his money is worthy for finds her entirely satisfactory. As a customer, David is on dilemma seeing this prostitution. He knows that every woman in the prostitution is perforce. Women in prostitution would leave if they could. The term is an indicator of their hopelessness. "They tell stories, they laugh, but they shudder too, as one shudders at a cockroach in a washbasin in the middle of the night" (Coetzee, 1999:8). In their mind, they see that women in prostitutes are disgusted with their customer, so does the customers. Soraya just pretended to keep their customer satisfied. Prostitutes sometimes talk of the feeling of power they experience when they are with their customer. They are talking about a feeling of control when engaged in sexual acts. They soon feel the disadvantages of that particular way of life. It also exposes the fragility of the illusion of control over what another subject wants. If a man wants a woman to want what he wants, he can only force her to pretend to want his desire and then he has also to deny that pretence. David then met Melanie, his student. He treats her under the wine and romantic music, the Mozart clarinet quintet. He made his move to seduce Melanie in some conversation. He talked about poetry, music, food, and his past life. Then, after he offered some liqueur, the higher alcoholic drink, he said directly to Melanie, asking her to do something reckless. He touch her and said "You're very lovely . Stay. Spend the night with me." (Coetzee, 1999: 16). Melanie refused his liquor but accept a shot of whisky in her coffee. She should say no at that time instead wonder and ask why. She trapped to this conversation: 'Why?' 'Because you ought to.' 'Why ought I to?' 'Why? Because a woman's beauty does not belong to her alone. It is part of the bounty she brings into the world. She has a duty to share it.' (Coetzee, 1999: 16) As a professor of language and communication, David, could easily manipulate the words, he says. The way he talked to Melanie reflects his experience through many women. "Smooth words, as old as seduction itself." (Coetzee, 1999: 16). He says it indirectly to make Melanie believes what he belief. He makes the statement so convincing and become hard to decline. Melanie herself was mistaken to ask more to David, because she did not know how to deal with him. Instead saying 'why', she should say 'no' to David when he asked her to stay. So she would not get in this complicated situation. Maybe she should already say 'no' when David asked her to come to his house. David was in a grip of something and he would not let it go. However, what is done is done. The next day David asked Melanie to go lunch. Again, Melanie cannot reject David offer. There is still time for her to tell a lie but she is too confused, and the moment passes. In the restaurant, they got an awkward situation because Melanie lost her appetite and there was a long silent. Then David asked to Melanie about what is on her mind: `Is something the matter? Do you want to tell me?' She shakes her head. `Are you worried about the two of us?' `Maybe,' she says. `No need. I'll take care. I won't let it go too far.' Too far. What is far, what is too far, in a matter like this? Is her too far the same as his too far? (Coetzee, 1999: 19) After the harassment from David a day before, Melanie must wonder about his plan. The women should worry about her safety. Because feminist, Cahill, agree that one of the rape purpose is to take women into state of fear, and it is he responsibility of masculinity and the construction of patriarchy. Men are possible to keep women as a fragile creature and need protection. Knowing that Melanie may feel bad about this situation, David guarantees that the thing would not go too far, he put Melanie to feel safe at least. This is another tactical seduction that is done by David. He manipulates the situation and manages it like there is nothing happen like everything is fine. It is not hard for him to do it concerning that Melanie was an easy target for him. The rapist always seeks the powerless people to be his target. Finally, they have sex for the first time. Even though, it is not the first time for both of them. David took Melanie to his house after getting lunch in the restaurant. They did it on the living room with rain sound pattering. Melanie is passive on the first time they have sex. While David finds the act of her passivity is so enjoyable. Melanie is passive like Soraya. She does not crawling, bite, and aggressive. She is his typical woman he was searching for. He was having sex with another whore after Soraya left him. But he did not like it because she is aggressive. So he never does it again with her. His desire was only on Melanie this time. It is stated in the novel that "She struck up a fire in me" (Coetzee, 1999: 166). Fire is a symbolization of energy that can stimulate one's desire. This fire heat up his libido that pushes him doing something undesired to the core. In the rape theory, David can be considered as narcissistic because he tend to be willing to do whatever it takes to achieve the goal that they want from a relationship, including rape. In this theory, narcissists are defined as having a lower proneness to shame and guilt, having unrealistically positive self-evaluations, and being especially likely to respond to bad evaluations by blaming other sources, including the evaluator and the technique of evaluation. Narcissistic suits David as a rapist. He has lower sense of shame, as teacher and student he took Melanie to go out lunch just the two of them. Considering that he is the famous person in the city, people will wonder what is he up to. In the restaurant he seduced her and ask her to do something wild. He is implying that she has to have sex with him. But the relationship become a scandal that makes him lost his job. After realizing that there's nothing left for him in Cape Town, David wanted to change the atmosphere. He moved to the east across the country to the rural town of Salem in the Eastern Cape, where his daughter Lucy lives alone on a smallholding, growing vegetables to sell at the Saturday market and running a kennel for dogs. David begins a new life there, helping Lucy at the market, assisting Lucy's neighbour Petrus with odd jobs as "I am the gardener and the dog-man" (Coetzee, 1999: 64), and volunteering at the Animal Welfare Clinic with Bev Shaw. Lucy is leftish which make her the reversal of her father. She even did not want call herself a boss by Petrus. She is not individualist but socialist. She helps people no matter who they are. But this time she made big mistake by risk herself to strangers. Lucy tells David to stay outside while she takes the tall man indoors to use the phone. The second man runs in to the house behind them and locks David out. In a total panic, David let go of the bulldog's strap and commanded the dog to go after the boy. Then he kicks down the kitchen door. David tried to save Lucy but he felt someone whack him over the head. He falls down, barely conscious, and feels himself being dragged across the floor. When he realize, he's locked in the bathroom and wondering what's going on with Lucy. The second man comes in to get the car keys from David and then locks him back in. Meanwhile, he looks out and sees the tall man with a rifle. The tall man starts shooting the dogs one by one, splattering brains and guts all over the place. And if that isn't bad enough, the second man and the boy come back in the bathroom, douse David with alcohol, and set him on fire, luckily just his hair catches burning and he extinguishes himself in the toilet. They leave, stealing David's car. David and Lucy are left to deal with everything that just happened. During this whole nightmare, Petrus is nowhere to be found. After being raped, Lucy decided to not report the rape to the police. The silent of Lucy depict the subjugation or conquest. "No I am not blaming you, that is not the point. But it is something new you are talking about. Slavery. They want you for their slave." (Coetzee, 1999: 159). Lucy response him and disagree with "Not slavery. Subjection. Subjugation." (Coetzee, 1999: 159). This makes Lucy as the rape survivor depend on men to get protection. The second analysis is about how rape leads to shame. In Disgrace the rape that experienced by the rapist and the rape survivor transform and effect their life worst then before. From the previous study Nurka classified the effect of rape by gender: (1) Female as the object will get shame, (2) men as the subject will take disgrace. (Nurka, 2012: 310). The male character, David Lurie, got disgrace after doing sexual harassment to his student, Melanie. As the rapist, David will be haunted by his sin and losing his reputation and his job. While Lucy, the rape survivor got shame after being raped. The act of rape means to take away by force which the dignity is to be taken. Loosing dignity makes woman feel shameful. It turns out that the act of rape is not only giving shame feeling to the victims but also to the rapist. Soraya knows about the attachment of shame for being prostitute. Then when she met David in the midtown, she was afraid if the public know who she is. This is because David is the famous person in Cape town. "He has always been a man of the city, at home amid a flux of bodies where Eros stalks and glances flash like arrows" (Coetzee, 1999: 6). Concerning that shame is social affect associated with being discovered or found out by another person, she knew that he is the famous person in the city. It is too risky to stay in public with him. There is a high possibility that her secret will spread. Then to keep her pride for her children Soraya decided to quit the job. She did not want her children knows their real mother is. So she decided to resign from the escort and disappeared from that business. David ought to end but he pays a detective to tracking Soraya instead. When he got the number he makes a call. Soraya surprise and wondering abot how he gets the numbers. She did not talk for a moment. She wondered because the agency has a rule about keeping the former prostitutes identity. After the silent she said "I don't know who you are,' she says. 'You are harassing me in my own house. I demand you will never phone me here again, never." (Coetzee, 1999: 10). After this moment he did not contact Soraya anymore. For Melanie, after she gets the coercive sexual by David, she becomes a different person in class. She even absent when it was on midterm test. Then she told her boyfriend that her professor have sex with her. The boyfriend then angry to him and vandalize his car, deflated the tires and injected a glue on both door. "After this coup de main Melanie keeps her distance. He is not surprised: if he has been shamed, she is shamed too." (Coetzee, 1999: 31). The gossip may be starting to spread so she tries to not meet him. But on Monday she reappears in class and beside her, leaning back in his seat, hands in pockets, with an air of cocky ease, is the boy in black, the boyfriend. The student in the class knew about what is going on from the gossip. They are clearly waiting to see what the professor will do about the intruder. Professor let the boyfriend intrude to the class but then he asked Melanie to come to the office and tell her to not let the boyfriend do that again. After that moment Melanie never come to the class anymore. Furthermore, after being ashamed she decided to give up her study in the university. Thus her father asked David to tell Melanie to not give up. At this moment, Melanie's father , Mr. Isaacs did not know that David is the causes of his daughter wanted to quit the university. As David thought "I am the worm in the apple… how can I help you when I am the very source of your woe?" (Coetzee, 1999: 37). After knowing that David rape his Doughter Mr. Isaacs tell him that what e sad done is not right. He imply that he does not sending her daughter to the nest of viper that poisoned her daughter with the act of rape. He feels ashamed about what was happen. He disappointed that an educated person like Professor David do an embarrassing and stupid thing. After the university fired David, Melanie continued her study. From the university scandal Melanie is regarded as victims and the professor is the one who responsible. Thus the disgrace runs to David. Even though Mr. Isaacs' family got ashamed too from his rape they not reported this to the policemen. David is lucky this time. It is obvious that the rape survivor will blessed with so much shame. It is also happened on Lucy. The first thing she did is staying at home. She does not want to go outside. The trauma and the fear will grow upon her. In earlier days after the rape he stated that he was nothing, heist e dead person. She did not want to meet people too. She would rather hide her face, and he knows why. Because of the disgrace. Because of the shame…. Like a stain the story is spreading across the district. Not her story to spread but theirs: they are its owners. How they put her in her place, how they showed her what a woman was for. (Coetzee, 1999: 115) It is a related to shame that person who gets shame will hide itself from public. Lucy was avoiding he people talk and question. It takes a time to recover from this trauma. But she could not let it go to long because if she do not going outside she will lose her job and stall in the market. To replace her, David and Petrus doing her job in the market. The damage that is given to Lucy, the rape survivor, may attached forever. She felt everything will never be the same. "One is never oneself again?" (Coetzee, 1999: 124). Is "Lucy" still "Lucy"? Lucy also emphasizes the existence of herself "I am not the person you know. I am a dead person and I do not know yet what will bring me back to life." (Coetzee, 1999: 161). With nothing to left she got nothing to lose. Then she decided to take consequences of human body in pain. Lucy takes the consequences of human body in pain. "I must learn to accept. To start at ground level. With nothing. Not with nothing but. With nothing. No cards, no weapons, no property, no rights, no dignity." (Coetzee, 1999: 205). From the sentence above it is shown that Lucy is starting to understand her condition after being raped. She decided to start her business in farm and her vendor. Although she realises that she has nothing left. The rapist also takes her dignity that is the biggest loose after the rape. A woman without a dignity will judge herself as a shameful person. She also feels that she has no right to her own land and properties. It is because Petrus take over it. As the rapist, David Lurie got public pressure from university committee and the students. At first he does not confess that he is guilty. But after her daughter being raped by three African intruders he contemplate and change his attitude. Then he ask for apologize to Melanie's family. After the scandal of lecture and his student were reported in university newspaper, the university made a committee. When answering the question, David giving no clue to the judges. David was making confusing issues to them. The committee not wanted to force David to make apologize. They wanted to help David to keep doing his career by making a statement to make it clear. But he resisted by saying "I am being asked to issue an apology about which I may not be sincere?" (Coetzee, 1999: 58) David's refusal to be "disgraced" can be read as a warlike strategy in the realm of sexual politics. For by renouncing the assault, David transfers the shame he feels upon Melanie in an attempt to strengthen his wavering masculinity and suppress her intimidating femininity. He plead guilty when he was in the committee. He remains silent and giving no story from his side. When David asked someone in the neutral position that is his former wife, Rosalind. She told him that he should have known that he is too old to be meddling with other people's children. He should have expected the worst from the scandal. She also blame the two for all that happened. `Don't blame her! Whose side are you on? Of course I blame her! I blame you and I blame her. The whole thing is disgraceful from beginning to end. Disgraceful and vulgar too. And I'm not sorry for saying so.' (Cortzee, 1999: 45) David feels disgrace on himself but he still cannot accept it. He said nothing to the committee and plead guilty. But from her former wife explanation he cannot resist it. Even though he must be so angry when he heard what she said. But he controlled his emotion and accept the disgrace given by the rape. For earlier, David is described as "mildly smitten with Melanie" and that "it was no great matter: barely a term passed when he did not fall for one or other of his charges" (Coetzee, 1999: 11-12,). Masquerading as the tragic subject of the ungovernable impulse of Eros, David publically justifies and renounces the stigmatization of Melanie's rape.David's lack of a sincere apology and his refusal to publically acknowledge the assault, along with his fanciful illustration of himself as a "servant of Eros" (Coetzee, 1999: 52) demonstrates the way in which disgrace (though masked as desire) is felt by men as a response to threatening femininity. Spurned and embarrassed by the loss of his womanizing charms, David's shame is directed into lust, later to be passed off as "Eros" when he encounters Melanie Isaacs, whom he refers to as "Melanie: the dark one" (Coetzee, 1999: 8). As with Soraya, David's seduction of Melanie is an attempt not only to reclaim sexual privilege, but to emphasize the traditional patriarchal procedures of the European culture, in which such privilege, like Lurie himself, is embedded. The worst thing from David's disgrace is how he, an intellectual person which had title a professor, becomes a person who can do nothing except working in bad place. To be a dog-man, that he already underestimate it on Petrus. By the time, David realized that he can't do nothing but accept what the destiny does. The situation that makes him to take any job turned David into a rational man. What David has and does in the university, which let him to become an intellectual people, disappear when he moved out. He then realized that what he writes about Byron and natural poets all this time is all about the death person. He never writes something in contemporary. CONCLUSION There will be two conclusions which are in line with the statement of problems. The first conclusion is about the depiction of rape in the novel Disgrace. The second conclusion is about how rape lead to shame through the rapist and the rape survivor. From the analysis that has been done about the depiction of rape. It can be concluded that that the author, J.M. Coetzee use the rape to describe the condition of race in post apartheid. All the rape in this novel is interracial rape. There are three kinds of rape experienced by three female characters. The first and the second rape was done by David, white male character that desiring ethnic women. He lived in promiscuity or womanizer that used to have sex with a lot of women. Then in the end he involved in scandal with his student, Melanie. Then the third rape was done to David's daughter, Lucy. She was being raped by three African intruders. The first rape is happened between David and the prostitute, Soraya. On his age of 50 he has no plan to married again. Thus, it made David rely on prostitution in his sexual life. His ideal marriage is with a wife that is a prostitute, but for him only and only at certain times. He met Soraya only on Thursday. On the other day he is back to his normal life. With Soraya he already find the happiness he belief. It makes him thought; there is no need to search for another life destination such as home and real wife. Prostitution gives the solution that allows him to fantasize a woman to mirrors his wishes. This can be classified as rape concerning that every women in prostitutes would leave if they can and she has to do it because there are no other choices. But in the end Soraya decided to quit the job as prostitutes so he has no other place to suit his lust. Then, accidently David met Melanie on the way home. She is his student from romantic class. Melanie is a colored girl, this make David interest to her concerning that he is desiring ethnic women. He forced her to have sex. He did not force her physically but seduced her with suggestive words. The relationship between them then became a scandal in the campus and also became the talk of the city. He left the town and visits his daughter in other town to run away from the situation. During his visits to his daughter, three black men attack Lurie and Lucy at home. The men lock Lurie in a bathroom and rape Lucy in the bedroom. The second half of the novel deals with the aftermath of that moment. Lucy did not want to tell the police and keep silent about what happened to her. She also rejected her father offer to move to Holland. She claimed that it is a private matter and not to be shared. With nothing to left she got nothing to lose. Then she decided to take consequences of human body in pain. Accepting the subordinates , she is willing to sacrifice herself, brings peace between the different racial groups in South Africa. The second conclusion is about how rape lead to shame. In Disgrace the rape that experienced by the rapist and the rape survivor transform their life worst then before. The act of rape means to take away by force which the dignity is to be taken. Loosing dignity makes woman feel shameful on herself. While the rapist that considered as a thief will judge as disgraceful person after the rape. The male character, David Lurie, got disgrace after doing sexual harassment to his student, Melanie. As the rapist, David will be haunted by his sin and losing his reputation and his job. While Lucy, the rape survivor got shame after being raped The first shame is from the prostitute, Soraya. She felt the shame for being prostitute because every prostitutes is attached to shame. Then to keep her pride for her children, Soraya decided to quit the job. She did not want her children knows their real mother is. So she decided to resign from the escort and disappeared from that business. The second shame is from Melanie that involved in scandal with her lecture, David. She was shame for being reported even as victims. She often not attended the class even it was a midterm test. But she still survives to continue his study to university. This is maybe because David was kicked out from the university and not to be someone near her. The third shame is from Lucy, she raped by three African intruders. She is a lesbian that live alone in the small town. She thought that the rape that she got is the payment for living in South Africa. She felt that the rapist wants her to back home to Europe because the westerner's does not belong to South Africa. Then she decided to stay and stay silent about the rape, and keeping her shame as a private matter. The last disgrace is from David, as rapist, David Lurie got public pressure from university committee and the students. At first he does not confess that he is guilty. He loses his job as a professor and turn to be an animal's clinic assistance for killing unwanted dog. After her daughter raped by three African intruders he then contemplates and changes his attitude. He ask for apologize to Melanie's family for his feeling guilty that he never confess before. The ending of the novel shows us that Lucy as the rape survivor could start her life again from the start. She continued to seeding a new plan even she is on pregnancy. He father, David, started to understand that he live in South Africa. Then, he stop complaining about the condition. Disgrace ends with Lurie staying on in Graham's town, continuing to help out at the animal clinic. The open ending of the novel shows Lurie playing excerpts from his opera in the making on a makeshift toy banjo to the three legged dog, Driepoot, who is awaiting his turn for mercy killing. REFERENCE Abegunde, Babalola. 2013. Re-Examination of Rape and Its Groing Jurisprudance under International La. Journal of Politics and Law. Vol. 6, No. 4. Abbey, A., Parkhill, M., Clinton-Sherrod, A. & Zawacki T. 2007. A comparison of men who committed different types of sexual assault in a community sample. Journal of interpersonal violence. Baumeister, R., Catanese, K. & Wallace, H. 2002. Conquest by force: a nacissistic reactance theory of rape and sexual coercion. Review of general psychology Bushman, B., Bonacci, A., Dijk, M. & Baumeister, R. (2003). Narcissism, sexual refusal, and aggression: testing a narcissistic reactance model of sexual coercion. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology. Cahill, A. (2001). Rethinking rape. Ithaca: Cornell University Press Coetzee. J.M. 1999. Disgrace. London: Vintage, 2000 Fuchs, Thomas. 2003. The Phenomenology of Shame, Guilt and the Body in Body Dysmorphic Disorder and Depression. Journal of Phenomenological Psychology. vol. 33, no. 2. Gottfredson, M. & Hirschi, T. 1990. A general theory of crime. Stanford: Stanford University Press Lowell, Gary. 2010. A Review of Rape Statistics Theories and Policy. Undergraduate Review. Massachusetts: Bridgewater State University. Nurka, Camille. 2012. Feminine Shame/Masculine Disgrace. Journal of Cultural Study. University of Melbourne Prentky, R. & Knight, R.1991. Identifying Critical Dimensions for Discriminating Among Rapists. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology Siegert, R. & Ward, T. 2002. Rape and evolutionary psychology: a critique of Thornhill and Palmer's theory. Journal of Aggression and violent behavior
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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Issue 15.2 of the Review for Religious, 1956. ; MARCH ]5', 1956 VOLUME XV NUMBER 2 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME XV FEBRUARY, 1956 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS MOTHER CORNELIA CONNELLY--Mother Mary Eleanor, S.H.C.J.57 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE-~--Bernard Leeming, S.J .6.9. SUMMER SESSIONS . 90 SISTERS' RETREATS--II--Thomas Dubay, S.M .9.1. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 9. Entrance Fee for Postulants and Novices . 97 10. Residen~ Chaplain as Confessor . 98 11. Legal Protection Against Remuneration for Services . . . 99 12, Correspondence with the Vicar Also Exempt .100 13. Washing of Purificators, Palls, and Corporals ., . .: . . . :. 101 14. New Rubrics for Little Office of the B.V.M .1.0.1 15. Sending Letters to Superior General .102 16. The Meaning of a Plus Book . 102 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 103 CATHOLIC ALMANAC, 1956 . 112 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 112 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1956. Vol. XV, No. 2. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November, at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter, 2anuary 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ell~d, S.3., Gerald Kelly, S.3., Henry Willmerlng, S.3. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.J. Copyright,'1956, by Reoieto for Religious. Permission is hereby granted for quo-tations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the ahthor Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a .copy. Printed in U. S. A~ Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. The Myst:ici m of Obedience Bernard keeming, S.J. ALL great things are simple. God is great and God is simple. If we are united with God's will, we are uiaited with God,. because God's will is" God. And if we are united with God, we are united with F~ither, Son, and Holy Ghost; for the Trinity is simple also. Obedience is a great thing and obedience is simple. "If you love me, ke~p my commandments" (John 14: 15). If you wish to be perfect, just~ do as y~u are told. "He that keepeth my commandments, is he th~at loveth me, and he that loveth me, ~hall be loved of my Father, and I will love him and will manifest myself to him" (John 14:2.1). In obedience we truly receive a revelation of Christ. St. Teresa gives several rexamples Qf what she thought sim-plicity or ":innocenc'e" in obediende. At Avila, she, says, "One thing I remember, which is this: once'in the refectory we had cucumbers given us'for our portions, and to me a very small one, "rotten within. Pretending not to l£e aware of. thi), I called a sister, one of the most able and sensible in the h'ouse, and, to try her'obedi-, ?nce, told her to go and plant it in a .little garden we had. She asked me Whether it was to be planted endways or sideways. I told her sideways, She went and planted it, without thinking that it could not possibly fail to die. The. fact that she was acting under obedi-ence made her natural reason blind, so that she believed that what she did was perfectly right" i( Foundations, ed. Lewis, p. 6). And, probably at Toledo or Mailagon, she narrates: "To a prioress came a nun, and showed her a very large worm, saying, 'Look how beautiful it is!' The prioress in jest replied 'Then go and eat it,' She went and fried it. The Cook asked her why she fried a worm, and she answered, 'To eat ;it,' and would have done so. Thus thro,ugh a great carelessness of that prioress that nun might have done herself much barni" (ibid., p. 161)." For my own part, fear I wonder if the two nuns in question were quite so simple as St, _Teresa imagined they were! However, not to delay on planting cucumbers or frying worms, there are four considerations we make about obedience which show that there is a great mystery in it, and a great reality' Of union with God. , 69 BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religious 1. Our Saviour's obedience to His Father reveals to us some-thing of the eternal relations of the Blessed Trinity. 2. Through obedience we attain union with Christ and with His Father in the Holy Ghost. 3. Our Saviour's obedience sums up the mystery of the Re-demption of mankind. 4. Through obedience likewise we "cooperate with Christ, in a true sense make one with Christ, in His redeeming and saving mlSslon. CHRIST'S OBEDIENCE AND THE BLESSED TRINITY Nothing is dearer in the Gospels than that Christ is one with the Father in understanding, willir~g, accomplishing, and in very being. Christ's teaching was at once His own, and yet in a sense, not His own but the Father's: "My doctrine is not mine, but His who sent me" (John 7:16), that is, the teaching is not Christ's alone, but'equally the Father's: it is not' Christ's as separated from God. "He who sent me is true, and the things I have heard of Him, these same I speak in the world . I do nothing of m;fself, but as the Father has taught me, these things I speak" (John 8:26, 28). Even the Father does not judge alone: "Neither doth the Father judge any man, but hath given all judgment to the Son" (John 5:22); and yet the Father does judge with the Son: "Arid if I do judge, my judgment is true: because I am not alone,but I and the .Father that sent me" (John 8:16). Hence it is that acceptance of Christ is acceptance of the Father: "He that believeth in me, doth not believe in me, but in him that sent me . I have not spoken of myself; but the Father who sent me, he gave me com-mandment what I should say and what I should speak" (John 12: 44, 49). Incidentally, the same is true of the Hol~ Ghost: He, too, "shall not speak of himself: but what things soever be shall hear, he Shall speak . . . he shall glorify me, because he shall receive of mine" (John 16:13). Only the Father has knowledge without origin; the Sod and the Holy Ghost bare the same identical knowledge, but from the Father. In the same way, Christ says that He did not come to do His own will, but the will of Him who sent Him. None can doubt that Christ's will was for the salvdtion of men: "I am~ the good shepherd. The good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep . . . therefore doth the Father love me, because I lay down my life 7O March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE that I may tak~ it again" (dohn 10:il, 17). And yet He says: "I came down from heaven not to do my own w, ill, but the will of Him that sent me" (3ohn 6:38 andcf, v. 30). The heart of Christ is not more compassionate nor more tender than the heart of His Father: "For God so loved the world, as to give His only begotten Son: that whosoever believeth in him,' may not perish, but may have life everlasting" (John 3:16). The will of the Father and the will of the Son for the salvation of the world is the same, "for God sent not his "Son into the world, to judge the world, but that the world might be saved by, him" (John 3:17). This unity of will is touchingly manifest.on the death of Lazarus. Jesus had wept, "and the Jews said, "Behold bow be loved him." And when the stone was removed, lifting up his eyes, He said: "Father, I give thanks that thou hast heard me. And I know that thou hearest me always; but because of the people who stand about I have said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me." Then He cal.led the dead man out of the tomb. He knew His Father's will was to do what He wished. They willed the same, and Christ's human will was perfectly in accord with His Father's divine will. Christ's power is the same as His Father's. "The Son cannot do anything of Himself, but what he seeth the Father doing: for what things so ever he doth, these the Son Mso doth in like man-ner. For as the Father raiseth up the dead and giveth life: so also the Son giveth life to whom he will" (John 5:20). "If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not" (John 10:37). The works, of course, referred pri'marily to the miracles: stilling the storm, feeding the five thousand, giving sight to the blind man, raising Lazarus from the dead;, but they include all that Christ did. "Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father in me? The words that I speak to you, I speak not of myself. But the Father who abideth in ,me, he doth His own works" (John 14:10). But the unity of power is most clearly showia when Christ speaks of protecting His sheep: He knows His sheep and they follow Him and He will give them life everlasting. "No man shall pluck them out of my hand." Whence this absolute confi-dence that no created power can steal away His sheep? "No one can snatch them out of the hand of my Father. I and the Father are one" (John 10:29, 30). His power is the same as His Father's All that Christ'has is given. Him by the Father; and the Father holds nothing back from the Son, not even His own life. His dis- 7.1 BERNARD LEEMING Review /:or Religious ciples wh~ weke,faithful to Him were given Him by His Father: "Thine they were, and to me thou gavest them" (John 17:6). deed, all the Father has, is the Son's: "All my things are thine, and thine are mine" (John 17:1Q). "The Father loveth the Son, and he hath given all things into his hand;' (John 3:35). And . before the washing of the feet, perhaps surprisingly~ St. John tells us: "Knowing that the Father had given him all things into 'his hands, and that he cache from God and goeth to God: he "riseth Trom sup-per, and layeth aside his garments, and having .taken a ,towel, girded himself'" and put the water into a basin and began to wa~sh ¯ ,the feet of the disciples (John 13:3 ff.). His knowledge that all He had was of the Father is perhaps the very reason why He wished to inculcate humility; since the Father kept back nothing from Him, He in turn wished to give His service and to show that such humble service is a reflection of the very life of God. But the Father gives even His own life: "As the F'ather hath life in himself, so be bath given to the Son also to have life in himself" (John 5:26). "The living Father has sent me and I live by the Father" (John 6:58). "Philip, he that seeth me, seeth the Father also. How sayeth thou, Shew us the Father? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father in me?" (John 14:9, 10.) Hence it is that Christ is the Utterance of God (John 1:1), the Image of God (II Cor. 4:4), the Radiance of God's splendour and the very expression of His being (Heb. 1;3), the Light of God (John 1:9), the Way to God: "No man cometh to the Father but by me" (John 14:6). Yet in spite of this perfect equality, the Son is sent by His Father, and receives commands from His Father. "Do you say of him whom the Father. hath sanctified and sent into the world: Thou blasphemest, because I said, I am the Son of God?" (John 10:36.) "Thou hast sent me into the world" (John 17:18). After the conversation with the Samaritan woman at the well, the apostles urged Him to eat: "But he said to them: I have meat to eat; which you know not. The disciples therefore 'said one to an-other: Hath any man brought him to eat? Jesus said to them: M_y meat is to do the will of him that sent me, that~I may perfect his work"' (John 4:32-35). His very life, His sustenance and strength consisted in d, oing His Father's will and work. The Father even commands Him; at the very end of the discourse about the Good Shepherd, our Lbrd said: "This commandment have I re- March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE ceived bf my father," (John 10:18), and the commandmbnt ap-pears to be that He should be the Good Shepherd, who lays down His life for His sheep. Just before going, to Gethsemani, He said: "But that the world may know that I love the Father, and as the Father hath given me commandment, so do I: Arise let us go hence" (John 14:31). And Of his whole sojourn in the. world, at the end He said: "I have glorified thee on the earth; I have finished the work which thou gav, est me.to do" (John 7:4). Now, of course, the giving of a command can only be because Christ is man; and. yet the commandment, like the sending, reflects the eternal relation between Father and Son. It is the Son who is sent, not the Father: not sent as a servant by a master, nor even as a king might be sent to war by advisers and counsellors; but sent somewhat as a flower is sent forth by a .plant. The temporafl sending, with its resultant presenc,e in a different way--f.6r Christ as God is present everywhere, but as man only in Palestine--re-flects the eternal relation of origin from the Father (St. Thomas, Summa, 1, Q. 43,-a.1). The Father could not be sent, because He is Father; and, although all that He has is the Son's, neverthe- .less that "all He has" and even the divine being is the Son's, al-ways with the relationship of originating from the Father. As of the sending, so too of 'the obedience. That too arises naturally from the eternal relationsh'ip between Father and Son; for as the 'Son originates from the Father in very being, so too do all His thinking and His willing. What our Lord wanted was what or-iginated in the Father, and He could not want anything whatever' which did not originate in the Father. Thus His obedience reflects his eternal relationship to ,the Father and is a manifestation to us of that. mysterious unity of being and nature which yet admits distinctive of persons. Through our Lord's unity with God by obedience in his incarnate life, we are led on to know his unitY with God in His divine life. , OUR OBEDIENCE AND OUR SHARE IN THE LIFE OF GOD Very often obedience is thought of as a matter of our owrl effort, something we must do, and do with striving and resolution. We must, indeed; nevertheless, obedience is a gift of God. As the Father gave all things to His Son," even t6 having absolutely the same will, so, too, if we are to have absolutely the same will as our Father and as Christ, we must receive it of the Father, through the Son, and in the Holy Ghost. For to have the same will "as God 73 BERNARD LEEMING Reoiew for Religious means that we become sharers in God's nature, as Christ our Lord truly was God and showed it by doing the works of His Father, -while yet remaining a distinct person. There was unity of nature, ot: doing and accomplishing: they willed absolutely the same and tl~is willing the same reflected the unity of being which was theirs. So too our, coming to bare the same will as God can only arise from a unity of being. God's will" IS Himself: He does not change, to-day wanting one thing, tomorrow another; but from all eternity He is His will; and, 'though in time His will is accomplished in different acts, those acts only reflect the will that was unchanging from eternity and conform the changing to the Eternal. "The Father who abidetb in me, He dotb the works" can become true of us, likewise, but only because of the gift of God of Himself, the gift of His abiding in us. And that God should abide in us, surely that is His free gift to us, which no effort of our own could at-tain and no prayer of ours--apart from His desire told to us-- could aspire to ask. God is God and man is man, but His surpass-ing gift is that we should truly become sharers in the divine nature (II Peter 1:4) and hence sharers in His divine will, sent forth from Him as Son and Holy Ghost are sen,t forth, yet completely and utterly one with Him always. This is one of the greatest gifts that God gives us in our vo-cation as religious, to enable us~ to share in that complete self-giv-ing which is the life of the Blessed Trinity, to be enabled to give to Him our last self-possession, our own will and judgment, and by giving it to Him, to receive it back from Him glorious, and divinized,.part even of Himself. "And the glory which thou hast given me, I have given to them; that they may be one, as we also are one: I in them, and thou in me; that they may be made perfect in one" ~Jobn 17:23). "To leave the world and give up exterior pos-sessions," says St. Gregory, "is possibly easy to some; but for a man to give up himself, to immolate what is most precious to him by.surrendering his entire liberty is a much more arduous task; to forsake what one has is a small thing: to forsake what one is, that is the supreme gift" (Horn. 32, MPL 76 col. 1233). And it isthe supreme gift, because it most reflects the life of the Blessed Trinity. Our obedience is grounded upon faith. Military obedience-- aport from the subjective motive of individuals--is based upon practical necessity and utility: someone must decide, and there is not. time to explain the reasons for the decision to each soldieL Without obedience, there would be confusion and defeat. Never- 74 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE theless, military obedience has its limits. Of certain soldiers who refused to obey it was said that "they were to~ intelligent to get themselves killed just to prove that some general was a fool." That is one reason why General M~ntgomery in his book on generalship declares that "it is part of the art of command to inspire and main-tain confidence in the soldiers, and why in his battles he explained a great deal of his plans to the soldiers. But religious obedience has a different basis. It is true that obedience does make for efficient work, for order, for unity. But this is not the reason ultimately why religious obey. We obey because we belieoe, believe that it is God who speaks to us in the person of our superior, and that, consequently, when we do the superior's will, we do God's will and hence are united to God. In this sense, obedience is not a means to an end; it is an end in itself; for by faith we believe that in uniting ourselves to the superior's will we unite ourselves to God's own will, and unity with God is not a means to anything else. This, naturally, supposes that we obey from love of God, git)ir~q ourselves to God in obedience; and thus the utility of doing what we are told to do does not enter in; whatever the effect of what we do, here and now by obeying I am united to God; and, in the absolutely ultimate result, the effect must be good, no matter what the immediate effects. Obedience is like faith. Often, though we know it is fully reasonable to believe, the obscurity of faith comes home to us: hoto can it be that Christ is present beneath the appearances of a wafer? How can a good God permit so many evils? Neverthless, this ob-scurity does not shake our faith, though it may afflict the imagina-tion and the power of reasoning. We know that He is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, and that His dwelling is in unapproach-able light; no human eye has ever seen Him or can ever see Him (I Tim. 6:16). We know that "my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways my ways: for as the heavens are ex-alted above the earth, so are my ways exalted above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts" (Isaias 4:8, 9). Nothing could shake our faith, because it is God whom we believe. Now, similarly, our obedience like our faith involves obscurity. How could God be represented by one so ignorant, prejudiced, and unlikable? How could God ratify so stupid a policy, one based on complete ignor-ance of the conditions? How can God permit this situation to con-tinue, when His own interests are at stake? Such obscurities may indeed trouble our imaginations and even our powers of reasoning; 5 'BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religio-s nevertheless they cannot shake the deep conviction that in obeying this superior, in this policy, in this mariner of proceeding, I am obeying God Himself; I am doing His will, arid notthe ignorant, stupid, or prejudiced will of any creature. My obedience rests on the faith that believes God does act thro,ugh creatures, that He is immanent to creatures and-not afar off. St. Margaret Mary had revelations from our Lord, revelations approved by the Church afterwards; and yet our Lord said to her that she should prefer th'e will of her superiors to a'fly command of His. W~e' look with ey,es of faith, not upon a weak creature, but upon the infinitely holy and infinitely wise God of all consolation, who acts in and through the creature. Blessed Claude de la Colombi~re once wrote: "A Superior may 'govern badly, but it is impossible that G~d should not govern you well by means of him. My dear Sister, let that be your deepest conviction. For if you do not', base yourself firmly on this prin-ciply, you are losing your time in religion: for your whole life is nothing but obedience, arid this obedience.is meritless unless offered to God in the person whom He has put in place of Himself. A:nd we certainly do not turn our gaze on God when we undertak'e to judge, examine and above all to condemn what is commanded us. When it is the Holy Ghost who possesses us, He inspires us with the simplicity of a child who finds everything good and everything reasonable; or. if you prefer, with a divine prudence which discov-ers God in everything,' and recogmzes Him in. all those who rep-resent Him, even in those who are poorest in virtue and in natural and supernatural qualities." (Oeut;res, VII, 109-10, 1853 ed.) = ,In those words Blessed Claude expressed part of the gift of obedience: the inspiration of the Holy Ghost to make us simple, to give us supernatural prudence to see God truly in superiors. St. Catherine of Siena, in her delightful Dialogue ot~ Obedience (trans-lated by Algar Thorold). insists greatly on faith being the means of obedience and teaches likewise that we may progress in obedi-ence. God speaks and says to her: "Now I wish thee to see and know this most excellent virtue in that humble and immaculate Lamb, and the source whence it proceeds. What caused the great obedience of the Word? The love which He had for My honour and your salvatiofi. Whence proceeded this love? From the clear vision with which His soul saw the divine essence and the eternal Trinity, thus always looking on Me, the eternal G6d. His fidelity obtained this vision for Him, and most perfectly, ~ which vision you 76 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE imperfectly enjoy by th~ light,of holy faith" (Ch. 135). And thig vision both comes through obedience and fosters obedience. "Does the weight of obedience," she asks, "cause the obedient man pain? No, for he has trampled on his own will and does not care to ex-amine or, judge the will of his superior, for with the light of faith he sees My will !in him, believing truly that My clemency causes him to dommand according to the needs of his subject's sal-vation" (Ch. 140). "Obedience gives a !ight in the soul, which shows whether she is faithful to Me and her order and superior, in which light of holy faith she forgets hersel£; for by the obedience which she has ac-quired through the light of faith, she shows that her will is dead' to its own feeling, and seeks the advantage of others and not her own. Just as the disobedient man who examines the will, of his superior, may ju.dge~it according to his own low opinion and dark-ened knowled~ge instead of judging his own perverse will which' gives him death, the truly obedient man, illumined by faith, judge's ~the will of his superior to be good, and therefore does not examine it, but inclines his bead and nourishes his soul with the odour of true and holy obedience. And this virtue increases in the soul in proportion to the shinin~.l of the light of fhith, with which the soul knows herself, and Me, whom she loves, and humbles her-self; and the more she loves Me and humbles herself, the more obedient she becomes, for, obedience, and her sister patience prove whether the soul is in truth Clothed with the nuptial garment of charity, which is necessary to enter into eternal life" (Cb. 44). St. Teresa of Avila also declares that obedience is something like a treasure in a mine, Which can only be. dug out gradually and progressively. Speaking of the treasure of complete union with God, she says: "Bellevue me, then there is no better way of finding this treasure than that of toiling and digging so as to draw it forth from the mine of obedience; for the more we dig the more we shall find, and the more we ,subject ourselves to men, having no other will but that of those who are over us, the more we shall master our will so as to conform it to the will of God:' (Foundations, Ch. 5).,~ St. Ignatius of ~oyola puts three degrees of obedience: the first, when wi actually do what we are c6mmanded; the second, when wedo it willingly; and the third, when we submt.t our understandL ing to the superior's and come to have the,lsame judgment as bis: Now these are not necessarily stages through iwhich we hi~ve to pass, 77 BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religious though indeed they.may be kinds of stages through which we pass; but they clearly indicate divisions into which obedience may fall. It is possible to do what we are ordered but to rebel interiorly, or even to grumble and complain and yet carry out the order. It is possible also to cajole a superior into agreement with what we want. This is indeed a certain kind of obedience. Then there_is willingness ,in obedience: to do the thing promptly, perseveringly, and putting our best efforts into it to make it suc'ceed. But the highest degree is' had when we agree with the superior's mind and have the same view and ~outlook on the thing aS he has. It is clear that this last most closely approaches to the obedience of'Christ to His Father: His docffine, was not His own, but His Father's. He judges with the Father; He does not speak of Himself, but as the Father gives Him to speak; and He is the very word of the Father, the expression of the Father, the very mind of the Father: He and His Father are one. If the superior represents God for us, then no lower standard than our Lord's obedience to His Father can content us. How is it possible to be united in mind with a superior who is stupid," unwise, and imprudent in his commands? Christ could obey His Father absolutely because His Father was absolute truth; absolute wisdom; but how can we conform our minds to one who is by no means absolute truth or wisdom? The answer is that where the superior commands, we unite our wills and minds with his exactly insofar as he commands, not necessarily insofar as his command is designed to attain a particu-lar purpose. The purpose of the command is not part of the com-mand. For instance, a provincial superior may order a local superior to be indulgent, or to be severe, with a particular s, ubject. The local superior may on natural' grounds be convinced that i.ndulgence, or severity, is injurious to the subject, that the provincial superior is mistaken in his estimate of the method required. It is here, partly, that the mystery enters; for the theory of obedience holds that the judgment about success or failure is irrelevant: who can tell what, in God's eyes, is success or failure? The order must be obeyed, and in the spirit, with trust in God's over-riding providence: He will bless the obedience, although we cannot see how. For me, I see Christ in the command and that is enough. What does it matter, in the last analysis, about the "success" or "failure" of the policy? God must look to that; and I can leave it to Him, doir~g so the ¯ more trustfully the less I see how He can draw good out of it. 78 March, 1956 THE ~MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE How do we progress in obedience~? Ver~y gener1a1 y at the be, ginning of our religigus life obedience on theI whole is not difficult; there may be strange customs, repugnances to be overcome in ac-commodating ourselves to different points of the Rule. But on the whole, obedience is likely to be taken more or less for granted as part of the religious regime. Nevertheless, sooner or later trials are likely to arise. A superior may not understand us, ol may dis-approve of us; and then obedience can be a very arid affair indeed. There is small comfort in it; and, if one takes literally the superior for God, one is inclined to imagine that a superior's disapproval means God's disapproval. This is not, of'course, strictly irue; for a superior is not judge of our spiritual state, but takes the place of God in telling us what to do. Nevertheless, a superior's disapproval may be a searing trial, especially for some characters; and it is then that one must walk by blind faith, hoping against hope, as it were, that God will bring all right, possessing our soul in patience and bending our minds and wills as best we can. This may be only a purifying trial: to wean us from our purely natural obedience, to prevent us thinking obedience is within our own natural power. Then we can only be faithful, be patient, andtrust God: believing still that He is acting in the superior. But, if we are faithful, the light will surely break through: there can come a certain sense of reverence for God, even in this superior: a sense that we are really held captive by God, and so a certain peace in obeying which is not upset by surges of feeling, whether of depression or of irritation or of rebellion. God is there in spit~ of everything; and somehow fears begin to vanish: in sick-ness or in.health, in success or failure: "For I know whom I have believed, and I am certain that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him, against that day" (II Tim. 1:12). Our trans-formation into Christ proceeds; and His obedience begins to seem a reality to us, and self-will, self-settlement, self-judgment begin to fade away. The memory, the imagination, and even the reason-ing powers may play tricks; but the calm conviction remains that it is good for me to cleave to the Lord, and that at the head of my book it is written that I should do Thy Will, O God. And here it may be well to return to another aspect of Christ's obedience; an aspect which shows how obedience made Him our °saving Victim, and how obedience will unite us to Him in a u~nion truly trarisforming. , 79 BERNARD LEEMING Reoiew for Religio'us CHRIST'S OBEDIENCE AND.THE REDEMPTION OF MANKIND Our Saviour's obedience was neither negative nor passive; He did not merely abstain from forbidden things, nor-did He, as it were, merely wait on events and allow Himself to be governed' by them. It w, as not the case that He came to endure death, and in consequence merely waited for the Jews to come and kill ,Him. On the contrary, His obedience was positive and active. 'He knew in-deed the inevitable end, but He knew that end was to come only as'a consequence of His active obedience to His Father's command to be the Good Sh.epherd. He journeyed from Nazareth to Caphar-nauru through Galilee, up to Cesarea Philippi, nearer Damascus than Jerusalem, and to Bethsaida, and through Sar;aaria, and to Jericho and Jerusalem, probably more than once. Pharisees were attracted to him from every town of Galilee, Judea, and Jerusalem (Luke 5:17). He gathered twelve apostles and seventy-two d~isciples and instructed them. He ,taught the people in the synagogues, in the tqwns, in the fields, on the mountain sides, by the lake sides, His energy and His force, the power he had, roused the fear of thd chief priests and the Jews, and they said: "Do you" see that we preva, il nothing? behold the whole world is gone after him" (John 12:19). He rebuked their hypocrisy fiercely and fearlessly. He drove the buyers and sellers from the temple, "and the disciples remembered that it was written 'The zeal of thy house hath eaten meoUP' " (John 2:17). The Jews put spies to report His words, and to lay traps for Him (Luke 20:19-20). "This command 'have I received'frdm my F'athe~," a command to spread the truth and the charit,y of His Father, even if in ful-filling that command He was to provoke the enmi'ty of the wicked and to draw down death unto Himself. About ,this obedience of Christ, St. Thomas puts the objection: ,"The will of God is not for the death Of ,men, even of sinners, but rather for their life, as Ezechiel ~ays:'I will not the death ofthe sinner but tl~at he should b~ converted and live. Much less then could it have been thd will of God the Father that the most perfect of .all men should be sub-jected to death." And ~he answers: "Although the will of God is 'not for the death of any man, nevertheless God-wills the virtue by which a. man bravely endures death and from charity exposes him-self to the peril of death. And in this.sense was the will of God for the death of Christ, in as much as Christ incurred the risk of death from charity and bravely endured death" (Contra Gentiles, 4, 55, ad 15). "As the Father has given me commandment, so 80 (¢larch, 1956 THE MYSTIC.ISM OF ~)BEDIENCE do I." Christ incurred the risk of death-not by passivity,' but by an activity which provoked opposition, by an actiVity which upset the whole of 3udaea and Palestine. Thus our Lord's obedience was vibrant with energy and was most complete.ly in accord with the mind and intentions and desire of His Father. He and the Father were one, in very being, though not in person; and when the Son became man among men there was One who gave to the most loving God the rndst energetic and loving service and praise, and gave it not on.ly for God's sake, but. for man's sake. It was by His obedience that Christ redeemed the world: "for as by the disobedience of one man," says St. Paul, "th~ many were made sinners; so also by the obedience of one, the many shall be made just" (Rom. 5:19). Surely a great mystery, that the destiny of us all should be so linked with the obedience or dis-obedience of two men: a mystery reflected in minor degree by the mysterious fact that we are all to some degree dependent upon one another in so many ways. It was because of obedience that Christ received the name Jesus. St. Paul tells us" that God in his fore-knowledge of the obedience unto death had given Him the name above all names (Phil. 2:8, 9).; and the angel ordered St.Joseph "and thou shalt call Hi~ name Jesus, ~for He shall save his people from their sins" (Matt. 1:21). Because He was obedient unto death, therefore He has that name above all names: Jesus the obedi-ent, Jesus the Saviour. And because of that same obedience He is a priest forever. Our redemption was accomplished by the sacrifice of Christ, pr.ecisely because that sacrifice was an expression of the 'most ab-solute submission of the will of the Incarnate Son of God to the will of God. St. paul puts it in chapter ten of his letter to the Hebrews: "For it is impossible that the blood of bulls and goats should take away sin. Hence he saith When entering into the world: Sacrifice and offering thou hast not desired. But thou hast pierced ~ars for me (a body thou hast prepared for ine). In holocausts and sin-offerings thou hast taken no pleasure: Then I said: Behold I am come (In the volume so it is written of me) To do, O God, thy will. In virtue of this 'will' we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus once for all" (Heb. 10:4 ff., Boylan's, transla-tion in the Westminster versiorl). The line quoted by St. Paul from Ps. 39: "thou has pierced ears for me" is given thus in the Hebrew and in the Douay: but St. Paul probably quoted from the Septuagint. The piercing of ears 81 BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religiod's means the power of listening to God and hence of obeying Him. We find the same usage in English. Children are told by their mothers, "You will not listen to me"--you will not accept my advice nor do what I want; and children in turn think it wrong "not to listen .to me muther." What pleased God in Christ was the complete acceptance of His divine will: the highest offering to God is the offering of the whole b~ing to do His will; and, because it was a divine Person who made that offering with the uttermost perfec-tion as a man on earth, and made it for our sakes, to fulfill God's will that we might be .sanctified, we therefore all receive the power of being made holy through the sacrifice of Christ. There is yet another m~stery in this obedience of Christ: al-though He was God's own Son and knew perfectly His Father's will and loved that will, nevertheless He feels repugnance in the actual carrying of it into effect. One might perhaps imagine that' one so infinitely holy as our Lord would be so lifted up that there would be no feeling of recoil or repugnance from whatever His loving Father willed. Yet we know it was not so. When He was riding to Jerusalem just before the last Passover, certain Gr.eeks wanted to see Him, and He spoke of the underlying mystery of His life and death: "Unless the grain of wheat falling into the ground die, itself remaineth alone. But if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it, and he that hateth his life in this world, keepeth it unto life eternal" and then, mys-teriously, "Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I sa.y? Father, save me from this hour. But for this cause I came unto this hour" (John 12:27). How can He pray His Father to save Him from the pain and suffering and death, when it was precisely to endure them that He came? And yet, His very soul is distressed; it is an anticipation of the agony in the garden, when He "began to fear and t6 13e heavy, and he said to them, 'My soul is sorrowful even unto death' . . . and he fell flat on the ground; and he prayed, that.if it might be, the hour might'pass from him. !~nd he sayeth, Abba, Father, all things ar~ possible, to thee: remove this c~halice from me; but. not what I will, but what thou wilt" (Mark 14:33-35). What His Father willed was not to be fulfilled directly between Him and His Father, but through people like Judas, Annas, Caiphas, Pilate, the Jewish mob, and the Roman soldiers; and it means not only physical suffering but denial of justice, denial of a fair bear-ing'of what He had to say, and. to say not so much for Himself 82 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE but for His Father, for God; 'it meant acceptance of that humanly mysterious providence of God which_ permits so much evil. Our Lord was a real man, with all a man's feeling, instincts, natural reactions: His divinity did not derogate in the least fro'm the full-ness of His humanity. Consequently, He experienced the ifistinc-. tive recoil of the feelings against pain and against death; further, even His natural reason and intellectual choice judged that death and rejection were hateful and in themselves to be avoided, and so His prayer was "if it be possible; let this chalice pass." St: Thomas tells us that our Lord prayed so to show us the reality of His human nature and to show that it is permissible, according merely to natural impulses to wish what God does not wish ("ut ostenderet quod homini iicet secundum naturalem affectum aliquid velle quod Deus non vult," Summa, 3, (~.21,a.2). Nevertheless the absolute choice; when all is conside.re.d, goes out straight to God's will, however repugnant to instincts and feeling and merely natural judgment (Summa, 3, Q. 18,a.6), and is in a sense the more united to God's will, because with His human will He ap-proves the instinctive reluctance of human 'nature, is glad to find it hard; and thus He can make the offering .of submission most truly as a man and with the fullness of His manhood. Not, in-deed, that these natural recoils against the horrors of the Passion in any way divided Christ in Himself, or lessened His glorious ac- ¯ ceptance of His Father's will, or blurred in any way the clearness of His vision--as fears and hopes and emotions do in us; never-theless, He felt the difficulties, even mental, just as acutely and more acutely than we could do, just as He could suffer physical pain as we do, and feel it more acutely. St. Paul spea.ks of Christ's obedience in a,way in which per-haps we might hesitate to do; he says: "Christ during his earthly life, offered prayer and entreaty to the God who could .save him from death, not without a piercing cry, not without tears; yet with. such piety as won him a hearing. Son of God though be was, he learned obedience in the school of suffering, and now, his full achievement reached, he wins eternal salvation for all those who render obedience to him" (Heb. 5:7-9, Knox tr.). St. Thomas, in his commentary on this text, makes this ob-jection: "To learn things, presupposes that one is ignorant of them. But Christ from all eternity~ being God, and even a's man from the first instant of His conception knew everything and had the fullness of knowledge. Consequently, since He knew every- 83 BERNARD LEEMING ~ Reoieto for Religious thing, how can it be said that He learned ,things?" . St." Thom, as answers': "There is a double kind of knowledge, the first being simple awhreness of the truth, and in this sense~Christ was ignorant of nothing. But there is also the knowledge begotten of experience, and according to this Paul says 'He learned from what He suffered [or in the school of experience]',' that is by actu-ally °experiencing. And the Apostle speaks thus because he who learns anything must willingly put himself in a position to learn it. Now Christ willingly took to Himself our weakness; and hence Paul says 'he learned obedience,' that is, how hard it is to obey, becauseoHe obeyed in most onerous and difficult matters, even to the death of the cross. And here he shows how difficult it is to attain the good of obedience. Because they who have not experi-enced obedience and have not learned it in difficult matters, believe that to obey is very easy. But in'fact to grasp what obedience really is, one has to learn to obey in difficult affairs, and he who has'not learned by'obedience to be subject, never knows how to command well and be a superior. Christ, therefore, although from eternity he knew by simple awareness what obedience was, nevertheless learned by experience obedience from what He suffered, that is, in. actual difficulties, through suffering and death" (Cornmentartl in Hebrews, ad loc.). But there is yet a greater myster~ here. The prayers of Christ, His tears, His entreaty to God who could save Him from death, these are not merely individual: they are His as head of the body, as forming one with us. He prays, entreats, weeps, ~uffers .for us and with us. S~. Gregory~Nazianzus says that w.hen Christ prayed upon the cross: "My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me?'" He spoke in the person of all mankind; and adds that this text about learning obedience must be understood in the same way: ':Having taken the nature of a slave, He condescends to enter fully into the life of His fellow-slaves and of slaves generally; and assumes a form different from His own, bearin'g the whole of me and all that I am within Himself, in order that in Himself. He may melt away my lower self, as fire the wax and the sun the morning mists, in order that I, through fusion with Him, may take in exthangeall that is His. Hence in very deed does He honour obedience and make trial of it in suffering. For the mere intention was not enough, just as it is not enough for us, unless we 'carry it out in act. For the act is the proof of the intention. Nor would it be far wrong to" understand that. He experienced our obedience and measured all 84 March, 1956 '~. THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE human things by, His own sufferings, and did so because of ,His affection and love for men: so that He.can estimate our experiences by His own, and reckon by suffering and weakness how much to demand of us and how much to yield to ,our infirmity" (Oratio Theologica 1, n.6; Migne Patres Graeci, 36, col. 109, 112). It was not He alone who was saved from death, but,the whole Of mankin~l who are united to Him, for whom He prayed, for whom He obeyed, "and offered His sacrifice. St. Leo says that the cross was the altar on ~vhich "through that saving victim the of-fering of the whole of ,human nature was a, ccomplished" (Sermo c.3; M.P.L. 54, 324). He ,bears "the whole of me and"all that I am within Himself" and offers His obedience for me to make up for my failures, to transfuse my dull and murky obedience with the radiance of His infinitely glorious obedience; and to* do the same for the, whole of mankind, becoming "hostiam. puram, hostian~ sanctam, bostiam immaculatam'" a sacrifice wholly sincere, holy, immaculate, and hence utterly acceptable to God for all of us. OUR OBEDIENCE AND OUR UNION WITH CHRIST THE SAVIOUR Our Lord is very explicit that "I am the way, the truth and the life. No man cometh to the Father, but by me." .It is only Christ who sends the iSpirit of God (John 16:7) and even the Spirit of God "receiveth of Christ's and shows it to us (John 16 : 15). "And because you are sons God has sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts'" (Gal. 4:9). "God has sent his only begotten Son into the world that we may live by him" (I John 4:9). There is no way in which we can go to God except in. Christ. There is no right manner of praying which neglects the Incariaate Word, or so tries to dispense with images or use of the imagination 'that-it passes over Jesus of Nazareth. There is no true mysticism save that Which is based upon faith in Jesus Christ. Now our Lord greatly commends obediencd to us. "Whoever shall do "the will of my Father, 'that is in heaven, he is my brother, and sister, and mother" (Matt 12:50). Even His own dear~other was dear to Him most of all because she "heard the word of God" and kept it (Luke 9:28). "Fie that bath my commandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me. And he that loveth me shall be lox)ed of my Father: and I will love Jaim': and will manifest myself to him." Our Lord could not make us a greater promise than to be~loved of His-FatheL to be Ioved.by Him, and to receive a manifestation, a re;celation of our Lord" Himself. BERNARD LEEMING Review [or Religious Based~upon these promises, to our Lord, the saints most strongly commend obedience to us'. St. Teresa says: "I believe that since Satan sees there is no road that leads more quickly to the highest perfection than this of obedience, he suggests many difficulties under the colour of some good, and makes it distasteful: let people look well into it, and they will see plainly that I am telling the truth. Wherein lies the highest perfection? It is clear that it does not lie in interior delights, not in great raptures, not in visions, not in the spirit of prophecy, but in the conformity of our will to the will of God, so that there shall be nothing we know He wills that we do not will ourselves with our whole will, and accept the bitter as joyfully as the sweet, knowing it to be His Majesty's will" (Fodndations, ch. 5). The reason for this statement, that our, union with God is in ~vill rather than in any perceptions that belong to our intellectual fac.ulties, seems to be this: anything that we know, we know accord-ing to our o.wn mind; the object known comes into our mind and necessarily to some extent takes on the shape of our mind, and hence shares in the limitations of our mind. The mind assimilates to itself the object known, and in so doing limits the obje'ct in some way. Consequently, we can only know God by means of comparisons, indirectly: in this life we cannot see God directly as He is, because be is too great for our minds to take in. -But the will is different from the intellect in that it does not ~bape the object by drawing the object into itself, but ,rather goes out to the object as it is in itself; the will therefore does not limit the object by its own limitations as the mind do~s. It follows from this, tb_at, although we cannot know God, in this life, exactly as He is, nevertheless we can love God Himself exactly as He is, be-cause our minds can get to God truly ~nd hence our wills can go out to God insofar as He is truly represented in oflr minds, and not insofar as the mind obscures God by imperfect, indirect knowl-edge. I can love a person, even though I do not knov¢ him thor-ougbly: I can know him enough to love him, and it is he himself that I love, and not my own imperfect conception of him. Hence, in this life our union with God is primarily a uni6n of will, although since man is one whole, that union of will reacts upon the intellect and upon all the powers of the soul, and bell~s to greater perception and awareness. One cannot be united to God in will without somehow coming to be aware of that~ fusion of wills and thus coming into almost direct contact with God Him- 86 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE self. St. Catherine of Siena was told that "the truly obedient man , always retains the desire of submission, and that this desire is like an inward refrain of music" (quoted by Marmion from the Dialogue~ on Obedience : Christ the Ideal of the Monk, p. 262). In this way, obedience is really a form of contemplation, simple, easy, and effective; and not wearisome to the bead. "This is what I am or-dered to do. It is God's will for me. I do it. That is God. That is all." Nor is this hindered if our obedience is very active, even if in obedience we must use initiative and ingenuity and resource. It is then that the very powers of the mind are given to God, wl~at intelligence we may have, what force of character, what gift of imagination, even what magnetism we may have to attract others. These are given to God, through the hands of the human beings who represent Him, and used gladly as we are directed~ because there is great security in using all our gifts as the mind of God, represented by a human superior, directs. Nothing could be m6re mistaken than to take the comparisons 9ften used by the saints, of a d~ad body, or an old man's staff, and apply them beyond their real application. They are not used to indicate complete passivity, but to indicate that we make no resistance to being moved from this house to the other, from this post to the other, or, even, that we are content if obedience makes no use of our talents at all. They in-dicate that we are completely dead and nothing but a walking stick as regards our own peculiar ideas when they clash with the su-perior's. Perhaps if the saints bad known of bose pipes, with a strong and full pressure of water in them, they might have used the comparison of a hose pipe which could be turned in this direc-tion or that, made to'give a heavy stream of water or a narrow jet, according as the bands holding it directed. The comparisons mean that the force and power which God may- bare given us is placed utterly in the control of the superior, as representing God; and that by faith we believe that the only good result will come from the union of that force and powe.r with the will of God as interpreted to us by His representative. . Here, too, enters what is called blind obedience. Now to inter-pret blind obedience as unintelligent, stupid obedience would be itself unintelligent and stupid. The more intelligent people are the more they must use their intelligence in order to obey well. The blindness only comes in after all due representations bare been made --and it is part of the duty of obedience to make reasonable repre- BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religious sentations, even to make them forcibly on .occasion-- and the su-perior orders us to do something with which our natural reason does not agree, for which we cannot see the reasons or the reason-ableiaess. It is then that we must be carried by an impulse of the will, blind to natural reasons, desirous only of conforming the understanding to the mind of the superior. And mtich can be done in this way: to close our mental ears to contrary reasonings, to look at it from the superior's side, and to make ourselves well af-fected to our superior. We cannot, of course, assent contrary to the known truth; but often the truth about the wisdom of a course of action can be perceived differently according to the antecedent state of mind in which we train ourselves, and according to the way we allow our minds toact. If we have opened our minds to the reve-lation of 6ur Lord beneath the deficiencies of the human agent, then it is easier to see God's will in what may naturally only look like ignorance, prejudice, favouritisrri, or vanity, So often it happens that lack of the spirit of obedience leads to narrow and restricted views. Obedience can and does take the ,long view. God's providence works oddly. Perhaps God sometimes 'wishes a poor superior, an incompetent superior, in order to use them as a lesson for subjects, or perhaps one special subject, a lesson to teach them what to do, and ~hat not to do, when they themselves are superiors! And to oppose that superior, to magnify his defects, to allow feelings to become ruffled, or depression to take possession of the 'spirit--this is Clearly to oppose God Himself, contrary to what we have promised Him." Perhaps God wants a certain 'work to fail, and to fai.1 precisely through our most obedient efforts and strivings, in order'to obtain some greater good of which we cannot be aware. In this sense, it is perfectly true that obedience, although. its proper fruit may seem to be to perfect the will, :nevertheless also perfects the understanding: it gives the understanding length and breadth and depth, conforming it to the infinite wisdom and knowl-edge of God. Often only in retrospect are we able to see that it was not only virtuous to obey, but was very wise, also. "Because you are conscious within yourselves," says St. Ig-natius of Loyola, "that you have undergone this yoke of obedi-ence for the love of God, to the end that you might, in following the Superior's will, more assuredly follow the divine, will; doubt not, but that the mgst faithful charity of our Lord continually directs you and .leads you in the right Way" by the hands of those whom He gives you for Superiors.''~ 88 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE This yoke of obedience: it can indeed bear heavily, it ban chafe and sometimes cut, and force us to go on and on dragging a weari-some burden. Christ Hirhself'felt the burden, and even prayed that it might be lifted from Him. And yet to Him, His Father's charity was faithful, most faithful; and even through the hands of Annas and Caiphas, of Judas and of Pilate, that faithful charity of His Father led Christ in that right way that led to our salvation. Christ obeyed for me. Christ }rusted His father for me. Christ loved me and delivered Himself for met delivered Himself for me not only that my sins migh}: be forgiven, that grace might come to me, but als'o that to me might come the honour of sharing His obedience with Him, of offering the noblest part of me to His Father with His offering, even of making myself one with His self-giving for the redemption~ of mankind. Nothing so unites us to Christ as Obedience;. for perfect obedi-ence gives to Him our liberty, our memory, and our very under-standing. What more" have we that we can give? And this giving is the most perfect charity: if you love me,. keep my commandments. Yet we give them in such simple, often almost commonplace, ways: doing what we are told, be it great or small, be it important or un: important, be it hard or easy. Nevertheless, if we do gi.ve our whole selves to Him in this simplicity of obedience, be sure that His most faithful charity does stay~ with us. Gradually He ta.kes us all: our remnants of self-contentment, our rags of pride, our dirtiness of devious self-seeking; of all these and suchlike His faithful charity gradually strips us: a pain at once and yet a joy, He is meek and humble of heart, even in His purifying of us to make us more fit to share with Him in His unutterably pure sacrifice to God. ,,He fills us with His own love of His Father. He gives us sometimes to feel something of that. joy with which He went to His Father. He allows us sometimes to see that His saving work goes on, even thrbugh me, even through me: but yet not through me, only through Him, and I spoil it, and yet He does not let me Spoil it quite, because it is truly He who obeys in me, and His obeying is of infinite love, even God's own love, The mystery of obedience: it is the mystery °of Christ; the mystery of the Blessed Trinity, in whom all is one, even to the blessedness qf giving of the WhOle and yet" receiving, of the Whole". And yet, it is quite simple: "If you love me, keep my command-_ ments. BERNARD LEEMING To conclude, then: ! 1. Obedience is a good in itself, and not for any utilitarian purpose, because obedience in itself unites me to God; and unity with God is an end in itself. 2. Obedience reflects the unity of Christ with His Father and reflects the divine life in Him. So it does likewise in me. 3. It is through obedience, as such, and not through human advantages secured by obedience, that Christ redeemed us. It is through obedience that we share His redeeming mission, share His power to save souls. 4. Progress in obedience means progress in union with Christ and means, too, greater accomplishment in our redemptive union with Him. With Christ we are co-workers in redemption; but that co-working (s, first and middle and last, union in His obedience. 5. Conkequently, let us pray for opportunities of obedience: that we may do each task because God commands it, that we may find our love and our life in doing His will. If the commands are simple, thank God; if they are difficult--perhaps removal from an office, perhaps subordination to an uncongenial senior--thank God more, for what else" are we for but to obey? SUMMER SESSIONS The Institute for Religious at College Misericordia, Dallas, Pennsylvania (a three-year summer course of twelve days in canon law and ascetical theology for siste.rs), will be held this year August 20-31. This is the first year in the triennial course. The'course in canon law is given by the Reverend 3osepb F. Gallen, S.2'., that in ascetical theology by the Reverend Daniel 2. M. Callahan, S.2., both of Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. The registration is restricted to higher superiors, their councilors, general and provincial officials, mistresses of novices, and those in similar positions. Applications are to be addressed to the Reverend doseph F. Gallen, S.2., Woodstock College, Woodstock, Md. Gonzaga University offers three summer institutes for religious women only. These institutes were inspired by the recent emphasis on the religious formation of sisters. The topics and dates for the institutes are: moral direction for others~ dune 19-30; understanding human nature, 2'uly 2-13; personal holiness, 2.uly 16-27. Gonzaga also offers two institutes for priests only; one on sacred eloquence, the other on-the psychology of the adolescent. For further information write to the Reverend Leo 2". Robinson, S.3., Gonzaga University, Spokane 2, Washington. 90 Sist:ers' Ret:reat:s--I I Thomad Dubay, S.M. APPROACH TO SUB3ECT MATTER |N this second article on our sisters' retreat survey, we will discuss I the retreat master's approach to his subject matter. The first of the questions asked the sisters dealt with the technique the re-treat master uses in setting forth his tea.ching. We can convey what is here meant~ in no better way than by, reproducing the question just as it was asked.To avoid needless repetition, we will indicate the sisters' choices together with the statement of the survey question. Which of the following emphases in meditation exposes do you usually prefer? __many quotations from Sacred Scripture . 27 4.0%) __intellectual explanation of doctrine, principles, etc .115 16.9 %) __emotional approach (stress on beautiful images, language, etc.) .o . :'. . 4 .6%) ____combination of first and second . 195 (28.6%) ¯ __combination of first and third . 16 (2.3%) __combination of Second and third . 28 (4.1%) __mixture of all three . 297 (43~.5%) Further comment: (space p.rovided) From this data several conclusions seem unavoidable: 1. Almost none of the sisters (.6%) want stress placed on the emotions alone. 2. The group of sisters who want any notable stress placed on the emotions is decidedly small (7%). This conclusion is reached by combining categories 3, 5, and 6. 3. The vast majority (91.3%) want emphasis placed on solid intellectual content whatever the combination of emphases might be. This con, clusion is obtained by combining groups 2, 4, 5, and 7. 4. A large minority (45.5%) prefer no emotional appeal mixed in with the intellectual. This can be seen by uniting the results from categories 2 and 4. 5. The frequent use~of Sacred Scripture follows the intellectual approach in popularity among the sisters. The comments of the sisters on this problem are both interest-ing and enlightening. All three, but the emotional element ought to be relatively small. If the intellectual explanation is ignored, women's piety tends to becom~ soft, enervated, spineless. A thought-provoking, solid presentation with enough of the emotional to make it spiritually palatable appears best to me. 91 THOMAS DUBAY Reuieu~ for Religious I believe that principles for religious life should be based on .Holy Scripture. It is only too late that one finds the beauty and worthwhile passages in Holy Scripture. Personally, I have, found myself living in close union with God by just one passage studied in the New Testament at meditation or spiritual reading. Let's have intellectual explanation. If the priest has the ability to express his ideas well so much the better. The use of Scriptu.re must be an overflow from the medi-tative life of the speaker. There has been too much emphasis on' the emotional approach, so why not get meditation on a solid basis for a change? Intellectual and emotional--I don't mean sentimental. God made things t0 be beautiful. Why not~ talk about those beautiful things? A balanced mixture with no excess in any one. Flowery language annoys more than appeals, I think, Father; however, a correct, flfient style helps much--language from the heart to the heart--without being dramatic or emotional. Mixture of all. A retreat group made up of different personalities, characters, men~ talkies, etc. needs meditation exposds that will to a certain extent reach all. Beautiful thoughts stay in the memory much longer than cold cut and dry ones. Women love beautiful things, why not give them to us? I dislike retreat masters who key their meditations to the emotions. Probably they do this because they have been led to think women prefer this. I do not find the e~otional approach "stands up" under the r~alistic test of a year in the religlous life, Exposition of the Sacred Scriptures appeals to me as most fruitful for meditation. (Texts on Public Life of Christ.) Some emotion has its place, undoubtedly, but I think to be effective it requires the most complete sincerity on the part of the retreat master--otherwise it only makes one uncomfortable. Some emotional stress helps, but I resent having my emotions obviously played upon. Besides, the emotional effect is most iikely to wear off. I would like to add emotional approach in the original meaning of appeal to the emotions or affections, not sentimentality, but with much intellectual and doctrinal support. Never emotional. ,Meditation becomes more fruitful, more satisfying as knowledge, of the Scriptures and doctrine increases. Quotation from Scriptures is fine IF that quotation is explained. Content thoroughly intellectual. Manner of presentation depending on the indi-vidual's broad reading, conversations, and own conviction and realization (we need some variety here!). Structure stemming from Scripture. All three. ~owever, oratory (?), (shouting, whispering, and dramatic pauses) can be omitted in ALL exposes. God forbid! (emotional approach) It is amazing how all three sprinkled in can provide the "oil" for my own "ma-chinery"-- in other wolds, "the Holy Ghost can work through all three approaches to fit the individual--don't limit the approach and.keep 'em happy! and thinking. 92 March, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS "---II IX view of the sisters' observations just given and the numerical data previously noted, it appears that retreat masters should attempt to tailor their techniques accor~ling to the conclusions we have al-ready indicated. AMOUNT OF THEOLOGY We approach now a much-bandied-about question in the circles of sister formation interests: theology. Here we shall view the problem from the vantage point of retreat content, which, of course, touches upon in-service sister f6rmation. The amount of theology desirable in a retreat and the degree in which the sisters un'derstand it were the objects of two questions, the first of which follows: Do you think that the amount of theology ordinarily presented in retreat meditations is __ekcessive '.2__~too little __about right Further comment :__ A notable majority, 486 (72.6 %), of the sisters are well sails-fled with the amount of theology they ordinarily receive in their rdreats, although a sizeable minority, 171 (25.6%), decidedly think they hear too little. A v~ry small gr0ui~, 12 (1.8%), feel that too much theology is presented. The pres~ent writer has the impression from reading the many replies that the more completely educated sisters tend in greater ,.numbers to want more theology in their retreats, whil'e those with less formal training tend in greater nu~nbers to feel satisfied with the status quo. These tendencies are not, however, universal, for there are sister-teachers in college who are satisfied with retreat theology as it stands and some domestic sisters who desire more. The sisters offered the following comments on' their answers: Representative of those who think the theology is excessive: Excessive because of mixed groups of domestic sisters, etc.; otherwise it would be about right. Sisters who think the theology too little: ' Too much "dry" repetition of elementary data on the fundamentals., Religious should be mature and treated as such. o ¯ The more the better. We need it for .our teaching preparations. I have found it of great advantage when theology was much presented, since I only had an elementary education. Superiors should be advised to give books of theology to read to their sisters, if the confessor appr6ves of it, when a sister desires .it. ' 93 THOMAS DUBAY Revieu~ for Religious \ Many sisters are starved for real spiritual meat which can be satisfied only through theology. For many of the sisters retreat time is the only time they get a chance to get some theology. I don't think xve can get too much! Much too little. In some God is hardly mentioned except as author" of this or that law. And the Holy Ghost not so much as heard of. "Religious who think the amount of theology about right: Some tend to overdo it, but I think it appears excessive only if the retreat master uses too many abstract technical terms. I like points of theology brought out since I never studied it as such. Although it is not too little, there could be more as a number of us have the oc-casion to use it daily, Depends on retreat master. I find retreat masters about right; too little usually. Also depends on individual. It differs from a great deal to too little. Perhaps it could be more in most cases. I am satisfied with just the Personality of Christ according to Gospels. Retreat days ought not be a course in theology. If necessary, this should be taken care of otherwise. Some give more, others less, so that on the whole I'd say it evens up about right. As far as I am concerned, a deep theological retreat would be out of place. The mental training of our sisters is too varied to admit of excessive technicality in meditations. Sound, simple explanation of dogma is always welcome. Rather excess than defect. Sisters need solid dogmatic principles always. Do much harm a,mong those taught if they lack principles. Sometimes it is very excessive, but usually about right. However, they often presuppose more theological knowledge on our part than many of us actually possess. For our younger sisters who have had many courses in theology, it may be about right. For our older people and those who because of the work they do, do not continue.their education, it is probably excessive, except where the retreat master takes the trouble to clearly explain his points. Distinguish: amount of theology usually presented--O.K.; skill in bringing out theological implications, e.g., in a meditation on the Passion, without getting dry and classroomish--tbis is rarer. Too much, I believe, would dishearten the less intellectual; too little would make it impossible to form a foundation for the convictions necessary in living a spir-itual life. In coming toa satisfactory conclusion on this whole problem of theology it seems that the retreat m~ister must keep two cardinal points in mind: the sisters' background and his own treatment. March, 1956 SISTERS' RETREAT'S--II Both of these points are so relative that no possible suggestion to be adopted by all retreat masters can be given here. What is excessive for one community (or for one group of. sisters within it) may be too little for a second and about right for a third. Likewise, the same theology in the mouth of one priest may be excessive; in that of another, too little. To adjust the first relative element the retreat master might conduct a careful investigation of the sisters to whom he is going to give his retreat. He could write the provincial superior requesting information on the education and works of the sisters making the retreat and then adapt his methodology accordingly. An appraisal of the second element (the priest's treatment of theology) could be effected by. a simple, one-page questionnaire given by the retreat master to the sisters after his retreats. He could ask whether he had given enough theology, whether his e~planation was simple and clear, and any other question that might contribute to greater efficiency. This information would not benefit the sisters who furnished it, but it could be most helpful in subsequent retreats given by the retreat m~ister. /SISTERS' UNDERSTANDING OF THEOLOGY The sisters were next asked if they thought that the theology that was presented in their retreats was understood. Do you think that the sisters can understand the theology that is presented at least fairly well? __.most of them "do __some do __few do Further comment:__ The breakdown of the answers to this .query is percentage-wise quite close to that of the preceding question. The presence of too many diverse factors, however, prevents us from asserting that this correlation is really significant. For example, on this question some of the sisters answered in an unexpected way. These few indicated that the amount of theology discussed in retreats is too little and then in the present question chose the response ""some do" rather than "most do." Of the sisters ans.wering this question, 517 (76.2%) "think that most understand the theology, 153 (22.5%) that only some grasp it, and 9 (1.3%) that few sisters understand it. For this question it does not seem necessary to divide the sisters' further comments into categories, for their meaning is clear enough as they stand. 95 THOMAS DUBAY I'm not anything when it comes to brain power, but 1 can say. that I understood everything I've heard so far. Most sisters with high school or. colleg'e education can understand. Sisters with elementary education who have grown old with hard manual labor in homes or seminaries cannot. All in my community understand what is presented,, and most do it better than "fairly well.'~ I don't know how other sisters feel about it, but I like it. I think perhaps most of the priests think we have had more theology than we really have had. I certainly feel the sisters would be capable of receiving more if it were given. Before retreat begins we are able rather accurately to predict the outline of the con-ferences, if not .the matti~r of each conference. No challenge! ,. Very poor foundation in theology obtained in thee novitiate. Since most sisters either have a college education or are receiving it, they can under-stand considerably more than is usually offered, i believe. The fact that they might not [understand] would seem to indicate a further need for it. Too often I feel that the retreats are directed prima,rily to the teachers and the others find it difficult to follow ot:' gain much from it. Most' of them do, but not all like it. There is a certain type of nun who likes simple retreats. I do not believe it is a case of sisters failing to understand theology, but a case of retreat masters failing to present theology. Sisters have often gone through retreats without deriving much practical help. All sisters do not have a high inte!ligence and need more explaining. Much depends On the master's ability to make theological truths clear and mean-ingful, A retreat master should conduct the retreat on as high a theological, philosophical,. ascetical, and even mystical a plane as he is able. He should give sisters exactly the same substantial content as he would give to other priests. He need have no fear that they will not be able to understand and live what he himself understands and lives. He should deliver his message however without scholarly verbiage, Latinisms, and all the other .trappings~which' serve to impress rather than to clarify. Through no fault of 'their own, sisters do not have the information to cgpe with this. It is a great m'istake however--and sad to say a common one--to confound a sister's lack of technical theological learning with a lack of intelligence. It is the priest's task to make the technical comprehensible to the non-theologian. This of course demands much more unde~rstanding than does a presentation in the language of the manu'als. Most retreat masters present a very thin spiritual gruel by comparison with what they could give if they. had greater respect for the potentialities of the sisters. ~ The suggestions appended to our discussion of the immediately preceding question would appear to apply to this present problem with equal validity. 96 ( .uesHons and Answers [The following answ,ers are given by°Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.d., professor of canon law at Woodsiock College, W, oodstock, Maryland.] tI,t 9 ' Ih our concjrecjatlon of :sis ers here is a fee c~harcjed for the expenses of the postulancy and noviceshipI. Recently a novice had to have an op-eratlon for append|c,tls. Are tile expenses of th,s operat,on included ~n the fee, or are her parents obl,cjed to pay them? As permitted by can. 570~ § 1, and found at least frequently in all types of religious institutes', the constitutions of nuns and sisters ordinarily d~mand that the ca!ndidate brin~ prescribed clothing and personal effects with her to the postulancy and pay an established sum for the expenses ofthe" Ipostulancy and noviceship. The ex-penses for which payment mawr be demanded are only the ordinary and common expenses of food and clothing. The cost of the medi-cines and similar personal necessities that are usually required may be included under food. The I . ~ordmg of the canon does not permit an exaction for lodging nor for the cost of formation. Much less does it permit that the sum be~ established also for the profit of the institute, as if the,subject wer,e a student of an academy or college. The spirit of the canon is rather that nothing should be demanded if such a polic3r is a practical conform to this spirit at least readiness to grant necessary di Extraordinary expenses, e. g., serious illness, are not inciucJ The institute may rightfully that such expenses be borne b3 cases can readily and frequent'~ dent or inconsiderate to urge possibility~ Superiors should and do the extent of a prompt and cheerful pensationL whether whole or partial. those of :a surgical operation or of a '.d in this fee for ordir~ary expenses. demand, as in the present question, the subject or her parents. However, ~" occur in which it would be impru-his right: If the postulant or novice leaves or is dismissed, the insti}ute is entitled to payment of ex-p~ nses only for the time spe~nt in'the institute. 'Some aspects of the practice should be studied for possible re-vision. The list of things thalt the candidate is to bring with 'her should ,not be so massive as to]dismay a~ay-girl. Perhaps this is male ignorance, but it does not seem efficient to have each candidate bring such objects as towels, sheets, blankets, napkins, and silverware. I should think that uniformity of size and quality would be desir-" QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Re~iew for Religious able in such objects, that the institute could purchase them at a lower price, and that it would be more efficient to increase the fee somewhat. Despite any ancient authority that may be cited for this and similar.practices, I cannot see how personalized silverware contributes to speed in setting up a large refectory and much less to the supposed simplicity and humility of the religious life. Although extraneous to the present question, I would hold the same for a train on the religious habit, which appears to me to be neither simple nor humble and to be at least dubious in the field of hygiene. The customary practice of requiring that parents continue to supply during .the postulancy and noviceship things such as soap and toothpaste and articles of clothing that have been exhausted or worn out is the deceptive economy of money saved, but with un-noted spirit, ual depreciatiofi. The practice does not manifest a gen-erous spirit on the part of the institute and is not apt to engender a spirit of devotion and loyalty in the subject. It may also be the primaryreason why so many professed secure necessities from ex-terns. The psychology of religious infancy can be more lasting and tenacious than that of human infancy, and the usual correlative of stinginess of superiors is stubborn infidelity of subjects to. the ob-ligations of the vow and the laws on poverty. It is evidently con-trary to the quasi-contract of profession for an institute to exact payment from parents for expenses incurred after profession. Free gifts may be accepted. Expenses for food and clothing should not be charged for any period in which the postulants and novices are 'fully applied to the external works of the institute, e. g., as full-time teachers or nurses. It is conservative to state that few parents of religious are wealthy. Many have exhausted their financial capability in giving a son or daughter a high school education. They have sac-rificed any return on a child's earnings by the entrance into religion. Further exactions should not be imposed on them without at least careful and considerate thought. Finally, it is always to be remem-bered that it is extravagance, not~generosity, that is incompatible with religious poverty. ~0 Is it true that a resident chaplain should never hear ÷he confessions of ~'he sisters of the convent of which he is chaplain'? A chaplain as such is not the ordinary, extrhordinary, nor a sup-plementary confessor of the community. He may be appqinted as such. I believe that many would agree with me .in the statement that it is better not to appoint him as the ordinary" or extraordinary 98 March, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS c~nfessor of the c6mmunity. Anything alSproaching authority, mere friendship, and frequent soc"la 1a1n d b u s'iness contacts can be harmful to the greater efficacy of confeIs s. ion. It is therefore bettek not to ap-point a priest such as a chapla~in or one teaching in the school' with the sisters as their ordinary or extraordinary confessor. Since the confession will be the choice of the individual sister, no such reason exists against his appointment as the special ordinary of a sister or as a supplementary confessor of the convent of which he is,chap-lain. In the latter case he is evidently obliged in virtue of this ap-pointment to hear the confession of any sister 6f the convent who approaches him for confession when there is a just reason and for as long as the just reason continues. There is no question that he will be willing to hear'the confession of a sister in danger of death¯ Inasmuch as he possesses confessioIial jurisdiction for women, he can be both an occasional and a confessor of seriously sick sisters¯ As such he is obviously not to usurp the duty of the ordinary confessor of the community, but he should be willing to hear the confessions of sisters who reasonably request him to do so. He cannot be un-mindful of charity, and his study of moral theology and can6n law should have convinced him that cases of real spiritual necessity occur in all states of life. Furthermore, the Sacred Congregation of the Sacraments has emphasized the principle with regard to the members of any type of community: ". what is especial, ly important, that they should have the opportunity to make a confession also shortly before the time of Communion . . . where frequent and daily Com-munion is in vogue, frequent and daily opportunity for sacramental confession, as far as that is possible, must also be afforded¯"' (Bous-caren, Canon Laco Digest, II, 210.) The Sacred Congregation could not have been unaware of the fact that the only priest who is cus-tomarily present in a house of lay religious daily, especially immedi-ately before Mass, is the resident chaplain or the priest who says the daily Mass. II We are a diocesan concjregation. Sometime in the past we had a particular sister who left; if she had not left, we would have tried to dis-miss her. She was a most difficult and peculiar subject. On leavlncj, she threatened to sue us for the work she had done in the concjrecjation. How could we have protected ourselves.'! Relig'ious progression contains two elements, the taking o;f the vows and a quasi-contract between the subject and the institute. One of the elements of this quasi-contract is that the religious gives 99 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERff Review for Religious over all her. labor to the institute. For. this reason can. 580, § 2, logically declares that anything given to a religious for his work belongs to the institute~ With equal logic can. 643, § 1, declares that a professed religious who leaves or is dismissed may not seek com-pensation for services rendered to the institute. This Canon is in-serted in constitutions approved by the Holy See. It is also under-stood that the same dedication of services applies to postulants and novices. The Holy See in approving constltut~ons adds a provision to can. 643 § 1. This provision enacts'that aspirants on their admis-sion to the postulancy must signa civilly valid document in which they dechlre that they will not demand any remuneration for serv-ices given in .the institute if they leave or are dismissed. The Holy. See of late has also been requiring that this declaration be renewed at the time of perpet[~al profession. It is understood that this pro-vision applies also to the postulancy and noviceship and is to be so wprded. To avoid any future difficulty, "such a provision should be made, even if it is not prescribed in the constitutions. The reason for the renewed declaration prescribed at the time of perpetual pro-fession is to make certain that the declaration will be made at a legal age, since .perpetual~ profession cannot be validly made until the day after the twenty-first birthday (c. 573). -12 Is correspondence'with the vicar for religious exempt from the in~pec-tion of superiors? Canon 611 exempts from inspection correspondence °with the local ordinaries to whom the religious is subject in matters in which the religious is subject to the ordinaries. It is probable that this same exemption extends to corresigondence with the priest delegated by l;h.e local ordinary to take care of the affairs of a igarticular community or of some or all communities of the diocese, since in fact such a priest i's handling the matters that appertain to the ordinary. It can be objected that the canon does not say, "to the local ordinary or his delegate," and fi superior could licitly deny that the exemption is proved.' However, it would be the part of prudence at least' not to subject such mail to any inspection. Religious ~bould be instructed not to be quick td write to the Holy See, the cardinal protector, " the apostoli~'deleg~ite; or the local ordinary, or his delegate. Such letters derriand a serious m~itter that cannot be resolved by recourse to one's own religious, suPeriors. °External authorities and dignitaries'should. 100 March, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS n6t,be annoyed by, needless a'nd extraneous correspondence; and do-mestic grievances, especially if purely personfil' or subjective, are to be confined by the family walls. How many "washings must alprlest do of the puHficators, palls, and corporals? Purifactors, palls, and cor~orals~ used in the sacrifice of the Mass are to be washed by. a cleric in major orders ,before being laundered by lay persons. The water of thls first w, ashing is to be poured into the sacrarium. The cleric in m~jor orders is obliged to only one ritual .washing; he may'do three if l~e wisbes to do so. The first washing may not be done even by rehglous women without an indult from the Holy See. The local ordinaries in mission countries have the power of granting such perm~ssmn to religious women. Cf. c. 1306, § 2; Cori3nata, Institutiones Iu~is Canonici, II, n. 887, 2*; J. O'Con-nell, The Celebration of Mas's, 256; Collins, The Church Edi[ice and Its AppOintments, 219-2~: Britt, Church Linens, 32; Murphy, The Sacristan's Manual, 12-13; Winslow, A Cornrnentarg on the Apostolic Faculties, 61. " Does the general ~decree on ~he simplification of the rubrics apply to the Lfffle Office of the ELV.M.? The decree of the Sacred [Congregation of Rites is confined to the rubrics of the Divine Office, and Mass, but from analogy the norms on the beginning and ~nd of the hours nSay be licitly used in both the choral and indivi~tual recitation of the Little Office of the B. V. M. The following, is a summary of the ~.ertinent parts of the decree. In beginnin~ both the pub(ic and private recitation c~f the canoni-cal hours, the Our Father, Hail Mary, and Apostles' Cr~ed are omitted; and the hours begin~ absolutely as follows: Matins from Domine, labia mea aperies; Cc~mpline from Iube, dorone benedicere; all others from Deus, tn adtut~orturn. In both public and private recitation, the canonical hours end as follov~s: Prime with Dom~mus nos benedicat; Complin~ with Benedicat et custodiat; all others,including Matins if recited pri-vately, with Fideliurn anirnae.~ The office ends after Compline with the recitation of the ,custo-mary antiphon of the B. V-. M., which is said here only, and Divinum auxiliurn. The indult and indulgences granted for the recit'ation of QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Sacrosanctae are attached to this same final antiphon 6f the B, V, M. Cf.~ M.'Noir0t, L'Arni du C!erg~, August, 1955, 512, note 2. 15 I wished to send a letter ,÷o ~he superior general, and I believed there was a serious reason why'th~ sehdincj of this letter should hive remained completely unknown to the local superior. How c,oulc~ I have accomplished this without violating our regulations? Correspohden~e with-higher superiors is exempt in virtue of c. 611. Exemption means the right to send and receive determined let-ters without permission, to receive them u~aopened, to send them uninspected, and probably the right to send and receive ttSem com-pletely unknown to the superior. Therefore, a superior is not to open sfich letters; and they are to be sealed before being presented to a s'uperior. The probable right o.f sending and receiving them com-pletely unknown to the superior is founded on the wording of c. 611, which states that exempt letters .are subject to n6 inspection. Article 180 of the Normae of 1901 aflir;ned that th~se letter~ were free of any inspection. It can be argued, at least with probability, that they would be subject to some inspection if they had to be presented to or received by the superior. Ordinarily there will be no special reasons against transmitting these letters sealed through the local superior. However, it should be possible to obtain a stamp unknown'to,the.superior; e." g., by having some stamps in the custody of the local.assistant or another religious. If a subject cannot so ob-tain a ~tam. p and wishes to send an exempt letter free of all inspec-tion,° he may obtain a stamp from other sources. He is to avoid all disedification in such.an act. It is not necessary to go to the ex-treme of having the porter separate all exempted envelopes and hand them immediately to the individual religious. ~16~ Our constifutlons state that the reading at table is to be from a pious book. What is the meaning of a pious book? This article of the constitutions is based, on article 182 of th~ Normae of 1901, which specified that the reading was to be from "some 16ious book." This does not demand that. the .reading be always from~ a ~spiritual book; the interpretatior~.is that the reading should be spiritual or useful. Therefore," the reading mgy be also from su{h book~ as" ecclesiastical histories, histories of'religious in-stitutes, e~clesiastical biog~aphies,'etc.,, and, also from instructive and hppropridte secular works. Cf. Battandie'r, Guide Canonique, n. 303. 102 90o! Reviews [All material for this department should be sent to: Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College. West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE MYSTICAL BODY OF CHRIST AS THE BASIC PRINCIPLE OF SPIRITUAL,LIFE. By F~iedr[ch Jurcjensmeler. Translafed by Harrier G. Sfrauss. Pp. 379. Sheed and Ward, New York. 1954. $5.00. If ever there was a work of love; it is Father Jurgensmeier's The Mystical Bod~l of Christ. This is flue not ~nly of its subject matter but also of its authorship" an4 translation. The author, rector of the Archiepisocpal Seminary of Paderborn from 1938 to 1946 and martyr of necessary overwork, wrote only this one book, spending years on it and seemingly integrating his whole life, thought, and reading in it. The translator, Harriet G. Strauss, a convert, worked intermittently for five years under 'the direction of Provost Heinrich Seidler of Dresden putting the book into English. The first part of the book. is a comprehensive synthesis df Pauline "texts concerning the Mystical Body, a synthesis which both leads "the reader to the conclusion that the living union with Christ in the MysticalBody is the core of St. Paul's message and makes him anx-ious to read through the Epistles of St. Pa'ul to discover for himself ,their.wealth ~of meaning~ This section is followed' by a difficult dogmatic_ exposition demonstrating that whether one traces the dogmatic path leading from man to God or the one leading from ¯ God through grace to man, one nevertheless ends up at the same place, union with Christ in the Mystical Body. Thus the Mystical Body dogma, because of its central and fundamental position in dogmatic theology, ,is also the basic prificiple for the ascetical life. The last and most rewarding part of the book shows how the Mystical Body doctrine, 'as the fundamental principle of the as-cetical life, not only balances the roles of grace and human effort in" asceticism, but centers attention on Christ rather than on peripheral matters. It does this because it clearly-shows union with Christ as the center and source of all spiritual life; because it focuses atten-tion on the'sacraments as forces integrating us into the structure of the~Mystical Body of Christ and uniting us more closely with Him; because it regulates private devotion and'the liturgy,: and co-ordinates them into .the sacrificial action of Christ the High Priest;- because without neglecting the moral virtues it emphasizes the the- 103 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Retigiou~ ological as uniting with Christ, because it reveals suffering as the finest living of Christ's life and charity as the chief duty in one united with Christ; because it spotlights the fact that each one of us, no matter how insignificant, has a unique and important personal work to accomplish' in Christ's Mystical Body. ° If there are three strata of knowledge in theology, the topmost for the experts, the middle for eager students, and the lowermost for the average Catholic, then Father 3urgensmeier's work would be on the second level sinc,e it demands concentration and study. The translator-edftor is to be lauded for her work in bringing this book into conformity with Pius XII's~M~stici Corporis, but sh~ has not succeeded in all respects. For example, Father Jurgensmeier's errors concerning the extent of and conditions for incorporation in the Mystical Body, though removed in mor.e evident passages, still persist in less noti.ceable ones. Nor are the quotations from M~stici Corporis always apt in selection and textual integration. Father Jurgensmeier himself has complicated the task of the translator by using the same terms in two senses, sdmetimes within the same sen-tence, wiihout warning the reader. Further, in praiseworthily en-deavoring to clarify the meaning of that special mystical identifica- 'tion with \Christ, he has ambiguously described it as a personal character. But these,qualifications, though meant as a warning of caution too the reader, are not intended as derogatory to this magnificent work. Rather it should be considered, as Archbishop Cushing notes in the Foreword, o"a spiritual masterpiece" which can be reread and reread always with g~eater profit. DAVID d. HASSEL, S.J. I AM A DAUGHTER OF THE CHURCH. A Practical Synthesis of Car-mellfe Splrifuality. Volume II. By P. Marie-Eucjane, O.C.D. Trans-la÷e~: l by SMer M. Verda Clare,: C.S.C. Pp. 667. Fides Publishers, Chicacjo 10, Illinois. 19SS. $6.75. In 1953 Fides Publishers produced the first part of a synthesis of the teachings of St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross (with examples from the life of the Little Flower) under the title 1 Want to See God. The present work brings to a close this bril-liant and compendious study, explaining as it does the; soul's prog-ress from the beginning of supernatural contemplation in the fourth" of the Teresan.mansions to ~the~ ultimate union °with God in the seventh, .104 March, "1956 ." BOOK REVIEWS Anyone interested in the various stages of supernatural and mystical prayer will find this work of great assistance. The author's genius for synthesis--abundant quotations woven together "with commentary into an orderly development--is evident as he treats in turn supernatural recollection and the prayer of quiet, contem-plative dryness, the dark night of sense, union of the will, the dark night of the spirit, and, finally, transforming union of the soul with God in perfect love. His deft reconciling of apparent divergences in the doctrines of St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross is especially notable. Two short sections of the book stand out significantly for souls whose vocation is to be apostles in the modern world, whether or not God has raised them to the higher mansions. The first is Chap-ter X of Part IV, "The Mystery of the Church" (pp. 186-201). Upon reaching a state of union of the will with God (fifth man-sion), Teresa says that the soul is seized with an intense concern for the salvation of other souls. Its eyes are opened to thee.mission it must fulfill in' the Mystical Body. This is what Fath'er Marie- Eugene terms the soul's "~iscovery of the Church." At this point, tvhaetnio, nh eto s kbeet cehffeesc atend e bxyc e~lltehnet usnuimtimnga royf oafll t mhee dni vtoin Ce hprliasnt, oinf sthale-. Mystical Body--a program which dominated' St. Paul's thinking, and which he called the mystery. In Chapter IX of Part V, "The Saint in the Whole Christ" (pp. 606-62), the author b.egins by stressing the exalted and im-perious demands the lov~ of God makes on the soul raised to the sixth and seventh mansions to help in saving other souls. Then in a section'which is almost wholly original, though strictly in har-mony with Teresan spirituality, Father Marie;Eugene discusses the place of contemplation in the lives of modern apostles. It is this section of the book which, he says in the introduction, "he was tempted toe expand. What he has written is most valuable; we may hope that he is able to develop his ideas in their fullness in a future work., Among other sections which may attract special interest., are those on extraordin.ary.favor~ (pp. 243-97), which a.mounts to,a concise treatise on the~subject, and the. lengthy explanation of the dark night of the spirit (pp. 300-506): The publisher .has rendered a distinct .service to American read-ers by presenting these books in English, The typography is well chosen (save, I would say, for the title page and table of contents). 105. BOOK REVIEWS Review [or Religious A handy summary of Teresan spirituality, according to, the char-acteristics of the seven mansions, is printed inside the front cover. The inclusion of a combined index for both volumes would have enhanced the book's value even more. A final word of congratulation must be reserved for the trans-lator, who has produced as smoo.th and' forceful a translation as if the work had been written originally in English. May she turn her hand to other works where less skilled translators" fail to tread! --THEODORE W. WALTERS, TRUE MORALITY AND ITS COUNTERFEITS.' A Critical Analysis of Ex-is÷en÷ialisfic E÷hics. By Diefrlch yon Hildebrand wi÷h Alice Jourdaln. Pp. 179. David McKay Co., Inc., New York. 195S. $3.00. This book, after a brief introduction in which the author clearly states his object and method, contains nine chapters dealing mostly with "circumstance ethics." An appendix, "Allocution du St. P~re d la Fdd~ration. Mondiale des deunessbs "F~minines Catboliques'" (April, 1952) forms the conclusion. As far as can be seen, the book is the work of Von Hildebrand alone. We have ~here a vigor-ous attack both on "situa~tion or circumstances ethics" as well as on "sin m~rsticism." The former, already analyzed and condemned by the Pope in the allocution above referred to, is subjected to a ldnger analysis here. The results are the same--a ringing condem-nation of "situation ethics." The author grants the complexity ~of the individual moral situation, details the pertinent f~ctors'at play therein, but insists with the Pope upon the primacy of universal moral laws. Th~ exaggerations, even the unchristianity, of "~itu-ation ethics" is shown.- The final chapter is a positive statement of Christian ethics. Of more interest and originality, perhaps, are the parts which deal with "sin mysticism," a phrase taken from the German the-ologian, K. Rahner, S.d. This is a.kind of lived .application of some of the principles of "situa~tion ethics" manifested especially in liter-ature. It con'sists in the exaltation'of the tragic~ sinner over the self-righteous, mediocre, or merely conyentionally moral man. Von Hildebrand fi, nds traces of this tendency, in varying~ degress~ in' Catholic writers like Mauriac, Greene, Gertriad~ yon Le Fort and others. Since these Catholic authors~ are read by our students on the college level, at least, teachers of literature will want to read the indictment. Von Hildebrand is certainly not unsympathetic 1.06 March, 1956 ' " BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS towards these writers; he admits~ what he considers the truth they contain, recalls several necessary dtstlnctlons from Catholic ethics, but, in the end, is driven to condemn this tendency in them. --JAMES d. DOYLE, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS )kVE MARIA PRESS, Notre Dame, Indiana. Spirituality for: Postulate, NoOitiate, SchoIasticate, l~y Jar~es F. McElhone, C.S.C., is a book on the spiritual life written ex-plicitly fo~ beginners. It !is not a complete treatise on the religious life but alms to lay a solid foundation for such a life. It fills a need long felt by directors of young religious. Pp. 196. $3.00. THE B'RUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee 1, WiSconsin. Helps and Hindrances to Perfection, by Thomas J. Higgins, S.J., is a sequel to the author's Perfection Is.for You. The readers for whom it is intended'are all ~he members of the Mystical Body of Christ, for each is bound to tend toward perfection. All can find in these pages help and inspiration. Houses where closed lay re-treats are conducted would do well to add both these volumes to the r~treatants library: .Pp. 258.$4.50. CARMELITE THIRD ORDER PRESS, 6415 Woodlawn Ave., Chicago 37, Ill. Mary and the Saints of Carmel, By-Reverend Valentine L. Boyle, O.Carm. This is a book of meditations on the feasts of our Lady and the saints of the Carmelite Order. Each meditation con-sists of a hundred-word biographical sketch, a one-sentence appli-cation, and the prayer of the-saint from the Carmelite missal. It is profusely illustrated in black and white. Pp. 185. $1.50. Carmel--Mary's Own. A History of the Carmelite Order. Part I. The Elian Origin o? Carmel. Pp. 64, 25c. Part II. The Golden Age of Car~el. Pp. 70. 25c. Part III. Carmel in Modern Times. Pp. 68. 25c. CLONMORE AND REYNOLDS, LTD., 29 Kildare St., Dublin. The Spiritual Teacl~ing of Venerable Francis Libermann. By Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. Founders of religious orders and con-gregations receive many. special graces from God to enable them to guide wisely in the paths of perfection those ,whom God gives them as followers. That is why the writings of. such founders are esteemed and treasured. The Venerable Francis Libermann, founder. 107 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious of the Congregations of the Holy 'Ghost and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, left his followers many valuable documents. Father Kelly has put these in the framework of a treatise on the spiritual life and so has made the wise counsels of the founder of his congrega-tion available to a wider circle of readers. Pp. 201. 13/-. DAUGHTERS OF SAINT PAUL, Old Lake Shore Road, Derby," N. Y. In The Daily Gospel we bare a harmonization of the four G~s-pels due essentially to Father Szczepanski, S.J. A portion of the Gospel is presented for each day of the year. Each selection is fol-lowed by a pertinent quotation from the fathers of the Church and a reflection. The reflections were compiled by John E. Robaldo, S.S.P. The text of the Gospels is the Confraternity version. Keep this book hand~; on your desk and nourish your soul with the Words of Life. Pp. 495. Paper $3.00. Cloth $4.00. Bible Stories for Children. Written and illustrated by the Daughters of' St. Paul. The book contains twenty-six stories from the Old Testament and fifty from the New. Each story is illus-trated with a full page attractive picture in four colors. Pp. 165. Soft cover $1.75. Cloth $3.00. St. Paul Catechism of Christian Doctrine. Prepared and illus-trated by the Daughters of St. Paul. There are six books in the set, one for each grade from one to six. They are richly illustrated in four colors. "Each lesson is divided into three parts: Catechism, Sacred Scripture, and Liturgy. Single copies retail for from 30 to 60 cents. DESCLEE COMPANY, INC., 280 Broadway, New York 7. A Short Histoql of Philosophg. By F. J. Thonnard, A.A. Translated by Edward A. Maziarz, C.PP.S. This is an excellent philosophical presentation of the major trends, schools, and leaders of Western philosophic thought. The intrinsic connection between the presuppositions, basic principles, and doctrines of the major philosohers is emphasized and their thought is briefly evaluated in" the light of Thomistic principles. The. work has excellent bibli-ographies and a valuable doctrinal table. This Efiglish translation, though faulty, will be welcome. Pp. 1074. $6.50. DOYLE AND FINEGAN, Collegeville, Minnesota. The-Simplilication of the Rubrics. Text of the Decree toitb Commentar~.1. By Annibale Bugnini, C.M. Translated by Leonard J. Doyle.~ Father Bugnini's commentary is by far the best that 108 March, 1956 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS has appeared so far and will do much to give a better understanding of the new rubrics. Pp. 131. $1.50. Order for Office and Mass, 1956. This is an English Ordo written for those who say the Divine Office in Engllsb. Pp. 115. $1.25. FELICIAN SISTERS, 600 Doat .St., Buffalo, N. Y. Magnigcat. A Centennial Record of the Congregation of the Sisters of Saint Felix. The appearance of this book announces the happy completion of a century of growth and progress of the Felician sisters. All religious will find this book both interesting and in-spiring. To learn what others have done and are doing for the love of God is an external grace which stimulates to greater and more generous efforts in the following of Christ. It is a .valuable his-torical do.cument that every Catholic library should have. Pp. 155. GRAIL PUBLICATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Religio Religiosi. By Aidan Cardinal Gasquet, O.S.B. Though published in England in 1923, this little volume is not very well known in this country; and it should be better known. If all who have to face the problem of a choice of a state in life 'would read this book, vocations to the religious life would be multiplied. Pp. 120. $2.50. True Christmas Spirit. By Reverend Edward J. Sutfin. Here is a °book on the Christmas liturgy written at the request of edu-cators to assist them in teaching liturgy to children. It draws on the treasury of world literature and custom. Religious devoted to teaching will find this book most helpful. Pp. 154. $3,00. The Help of His Grace. The Storg of a Benedictine Sister. By Sister Jean Marie, O.S.B. This booklet is a new addition to vo-cational literature. Girls who wish to decide whether they have a vocation to the Benedictine way of life will find it most helpful. Pp. 108. $.50. ~ B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, 15 South Broadway, St. Louis 2, Mo. The Names of Christ. By Louis of Leon, O.S.A. Translated by Edward J. Schuster. The author of this book was a professor of the University of Salamanca and a contemporary of St. Teresa of Avila and of St. John of the Cross. His spiritual doctrine is well summed up in the present volume. It is the sixth in the Cross .and Crown Series of Spirituality. Pp. 315. $4.75. The Church Teaches. Documents of the Church in English 109 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Reoiew [or Religious Translation. By the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Mar~;s, Kansas. The gratifying growth of the departments of religion in our-Catholic colleges and universities makes bool~s like the pres.ent volume a necessity. The argument from tradition will always be a major argument in all religious questions. Hence the necessity of translating the documents enshrining this tradition into English, since a knowledge of Latin and Greek can no longer be presupposed in tb~ students of religion. This book is a "must" for teachers of "rel'igion. Pp. 400. $5.75. :" Introduction to the Philosoph~t of Animate Nature. By Henry J. Koren, C.S.Sp. Teachers of philosophy will welcome this ne~i addition to Catholic texts on rational psychology. There is more 'than enough material for a three-hour one-semester course. An ap-pendix .contain~ a list of review questions and suggested readings. Pp. 341. $4.75. An Introduction to the Science of Metapbgsics. By Henry J. Koren, C.S.Sp. This clear, understandable, and orderly textbook, giving the traditional Thomistic doctrine of being, is divided into two parts: being in general (,its nature, its transcendental properties and its limitation), and finite being (its nature and multiplication, its categories, and its causes). For a three-hour one-semester course some selection of material will be necessary. Pp. 341. $4.75. THI~ NI~WMAN IaRI~SS, Westminster, .Ma'ryland. An Hour with Jesus. Meditations for Religious. By Abbe Gaston Courtois. Translated by 'Sister Helen Madeleine, S.N.D. Religious women whose work is education will find enlightenment, encouragement, and many practical, suggestions in this volume. Used as an aid for meditation, the book should do much to advance its users in. the art of mental prayer. Pp. 161. $3.00. :'"Cleanse mg Heart. Meditations on .the Sunda~t Gospels. By Vincerit P. McCorry, S.J. Readers of America will be familiar with Father McCorry's liturgical column "The Word." They will be pleased that one year's offerings have been given a more permanent form in the present volume. Pp. 179. $2.75. Graceful Living. A Course in the Appreciation of the Sacra-ments. By John Fearon, O.P. This is a book on the theology of the sacraments written in a popular vein to catch the interest of the ordinary Catholic and so help him to a fuller Catholic life. It was a selection of the Spiritual Book Associates. Pp. 160. $2.50. Leauen of Holiness. Conferences for Religious. By Reverend 110 March, 1956 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Charles Hugo Doyle. Those who have read Father Doyle's first book of conferences for religious, In Pursuit of Perfection, will find in this volume the same freshness of style and vigor of presentation. Pp. 242. $3.50. Meditations Before Mass. By Romano Guardini. Translated by Elinor C. Briefs. Despite the title, this is not a book of medi-tations. It is rather a collection of conferences given originally before Mass to enable the congregation to enter fully into the divine action. Its purpose is to teach a greater appreciation of and participation in the holy sacrifice. Pp. 203'. $3.00. THE PRIORY PRESS, Asbury Road, Dubuque, Iowa. Beginnings: Genesis and Modern Science. By Charles Hauret. Translated and adapted from the 4th French edition by E. P. Em-mans, O.P. and S.S.Prolyta. There can be no conflict between faith and science since God is the author of both. Yet there may be ap-parent conflict. Father Hauret, a scientist in his own right, squarely faces the problems posed by the account of creation in the first three chapters of Genesis and the findings of modern science. If you teach religion, this is a book you should read. You will learn much about the Sacred Scriptures as well as about modern science, and you will be in a position to give satisfactory answers to modern doubters. Pp. 304. $3.25. SAINT CHARLES SEMINARY, 209 Flagg Place, Staten Island 4, N. Y. Father to the Immigrants. dohn Baptist Scalabrini, Bishop of Piacenza. By Icilio Felici. Translated by Carol della Chiesa. On June 1, 1905, John Baptist Scalabrini, Bishop of Piacenza died a holy death. He was a remarkable man, and his memory is honored particularly for his heroic labors in behalf of Italian immigrants in both Americas. He came to their aid by founding the Society of St. Raphael, a lay organization, to alleviate their material wants; by founding a society of missionary priests, now popularly known as the Scalabrinian fathers, to care for their spiritual needs; by starting a congregation of sisters to care for the orphaned and the sick among them. It. was be who came to" the rescue of the Mis-sionary Zelatrices of the Sacred Heart, when it seemed that they must disband, and interested them in work for immigrants. It was he too who urged Mother Cabrini to choose America rather than the Orient for bet field of labors. This is the first full-length bi-ography in English of this saintly bishop, a milestone on the way to his beatification. Pp. 248. $3.00. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS SAINT PAUL PUBLICATIONS, 2187 Victory Blvd., Staten Island 14, N. Y. The Perennial Order by Martin Versfeld is a book on Catholic philosophy which is not a textbook. It will be read with interest and profit even by those who have had the usual courses in philo-sophy, for it deals with many topics not mentioned in the conven-tional courses. It is an apostolic book in the sense that it is written also for non-Catholics. It should do much to answer many an in-tellectual difficulty of the sincere inquirer and so prepare the way for conversion. Pp. 250. $3.00. SHEED AND WARD, 840 Broadway, New York 3. Su)ift Victory. Essays on the Gifts of the Holy Spirit. By Walter Farrell, O.P. and Dominic Hughes, O.P. It is perhaps no exaggeration to say that most Catholics know so little of the gifts of the Hoiy Ghost that they cannot even name them all. The reason possibly is that they are not something to strive for, but something freely granted to those who love God. Every Catholic should know more about these treasures which are his. Pp. 211. $3.25. In Soft Garments. A Collection of Oxford Conferences. By Ronatd A. Knox. This collection was first published in 1942. The present reprint is in response to popular demand. Pp. 214. $3.00. TEMPLEGATE, Springfield, Illinois. Loue of Our Neighbor. Edited by Albert Ple, O.P. Translated by Donald Attwater and R. F. Trevett. This book is the report of a symposium on charity in which this virtue was dealt with from many angles. Part one deals with charity and Revelation. Part two treats of the theology of this virtue. Part three has such chapters as "A Philosophy of Relation to Others," "Psychoanalysis and Love of One's Neighbors," "Love of Our Neighbor and the Economics of Giving." Part four consists of an outline of what a complete treatise on the love of our neighbor must be if it is ever to be written. Pp. 182. $3.95. CATHOLIC ALMANAC, 1956 The 1956 National Catholic Almanac, a very valuable reference book, is now available at the St. Anthony Guild Press, 508 Marshall St., Paterson, New Jersey. Cloth, $2.50; paper, $2.00. 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BACKGROUND:Achieving universal health coverage (UHC) involves all people receiving the health services they need, of high quality, without experiencing financial hardship. Making progress towards UHC is a policy priority for both countries and global institutions, as highlighted by the agenda of the UN Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) and WHO's Thirteenth General Programme of Work (GPW13). Measuring effective coverage at the health-system level is important for understanding whether health services are aligned with countries' health profiles and are of sufficient quality to produce health gains for populations of all ages. METHODS:Based on the Global Burden of Diseases, Injuries, and Risk Factors Study (GBD) 2019, we assessed UHC effective coverage for 204 countries and territories from 1990 to 2019. Drawing from a measurement framework developed through WHO's GPW13 consultation, we mapped 23 effective coverage indicators to a matrix representing health service types (eg, promotion, prevention, and treatment) and five population-age groups spanning from reproductive and newborn to older adults (≥65 years). Effective coverage indicators were based on intervention coverage or outcome-based measures such as mortality-to-incidence ratios to approximate access to quality care; outcome-based measures were transformed to values on a scale of 0-100 based on the 2·5th and 97·5th percentile of location-year values. We constructed the UHC effective coverage index by weighting each effective coverage indicator relative to its associated potential health gains, as measured by disability-adjusted life-years for each location-year and population-age group. For three tests of validity (content, known-groups, and convergent), UHC effective coverage index performance was generally better than that of other UHC service coverage indices from WHO (ie, the current metric for SDG indicator 3.8.1 on UHC service coverage), the World Bank, and GBD 2017. We quantified frontiers of UHC effective coverage performance on the basis of pooled health spending per capita, representing UHC effective coverage index levels achieved in 2019 relative to country-level government health spending, prepaid private expenditures, and development assistance for health. To assess current trajectories towards the GPW13 UHC billion target-1 billion more people benefiting from UHC by 2023-we estimated additional population equivalents with UHC effective coverage from 2018 to 2023. FINDINGS:Globally, performance on the UHC effective coverage index improved from 45·8 (95% uncertainty interval 44·2-47·5) in 1990 to 60·3 (58·7-61·9) in 2019, yet country-level UHC effective coverage in 2019 still spanned from 95 or higher in Japan and Iceland to lower than 25 in Somalia and the Central African Republic. Since 2010, sub-Saharan Africa showed accelerated gains on the UHC effective coverage index (at an average increase of 2·6% [1·9-3·3] per year up to 2019); by contrast, most other GBD super-regions had slowed rates of progress in 2010-2019 relative to 1990-2010. Many countries showed lagging performance on effective coverage indicators for non-communicable diseases relative to those for communicable diseases and maternal and child health, despite non-communicable diseases accounting for a greater proportion of potential health gains in 2019, suggesting that many health systems are not keeping pace with the rising non-communicable disease burden and associated population health needs. In 2019, the UHC effective coverage index was associated with pooled health spending per capita (r=0·79), although countries across the development spectrum had much lower UHC effective coverage than is potentially achievable relative to their health spending. Under maximum efficiency of translating health spending into UHC effective coverage performance, countries would need to reach $1398 pooled health spending per capita (US$ adjusted for purchasing power parity) in order to achieve 80 on the UHC effective coverage index. From 2018 to 2023, an estimated 388·9 million (358·6-421·3) more population equivalents would have UHC effective coverage, falling well short of the GPW13 target of 1 billion more people benefiting from UHC during this time. Current projections point to an estimated 3·1 billion (3·0-3·2) population equivalents still lacking UHC effective coverage in 2023, with nearly a third (968·1 million [903·5-1040·3]) residing in south Asia. INTERPRETATION:The present study demonstrates the utility of measuring effective coverage and its role in supporting improved health outcomes for all people-the ultimate goal of UHC and its achievement. Global ambitions to accelerate progress on UHC service coverage are increasingly unlikely unless concerted action on non-communicable diseases occurs and countries can better translate health spending into improved performance. Focusing on effective coverage and accounting for the world's evolving health needs lays the groundwork for better understanding how close-or how far-all populations are in benefiting from UHC. FUNDING:Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation.
Publisher's version (útgefin grein) ; Background Achieving universal health coverage (UHC) involves all people receiving the health services they need, of high quality, without experiencing financial hardship. Making progress towards UHC is a policy priority for both countries and global institutions, as highlighted by the agenda of the UN Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) and WHO's Thirteenth General Programme of Work (GPW13). Measuring effective coverage at the health-system level is important for understanding whether health services are aligned with countries' health profiles and are of sufficient quality to produce health gains for populations of all ages. Methods Based on the Global Burden of Diseases, Injuries, and Risk Factors Study (GBD) 2019, we assessed UHC effective coverage for 204 countries and territories from 1990 to 2019. Drawing from a measurement framework developed through WHO's GPW13 consultation, we mapped 23 effective coverage indicators to a matrix representing health service types (eg, promotion, prevention, and treatment) and five population-age groups spanning from reproductive and newborn to older adults (>= 65 years). Effective coverage indicators were based on intervention coverage or outcome-based measures such as mortality-to-incidence ratios to approximate access to quality care; outcome-based measures were transformed to values on a scale of 0-100 based on the 2.5th and 97.5th percentile of location-year values. We constructed the UHC effective coverage index by weighting each effective coverage indicator relative to its associated potential health gains, as measured by disability-adjusted life-years for each location-year and population-age group. For three tests of validity (content, known-groups, and convergent), UHC effective coverage index performance was generally better than that of other UHC service coverage indices from WHO (ie, the current metric for SDG indicator 3.8.1 on UHC service coverage), the World Bank, and GBD 2017. We quantified frontiers of UHC effective coverage performance on the basis of pooled health spending per capita, representing UHC effective coverage index levels achieved in 2019 relative to country-level government health spending, prepaid private expenditures, and development assistance for health. To assess current trajectories towards the GPW13 UHC billion target-1 billion more people benefiting from UHC by 2023-we estimated additional population equivalents with UHC effective coverage from 2018 to 2023. Findings Globally, performance on the UHC effective coverage index improved from 45.8 (95% uncertainty interval 44.2-47.5) in 1990 to 60.3 (58.7-61.9) in 2019, yet country-level UHC effective coverage in 2019 still spanned from 95 or higher in Japan and Iceland to lower than 25 in Somalia and the Central African Republic. Since 2010, sub-Saharan Africa showed accelerated gains on the UHC effective coverage index (at an average increase of 2.6% [1.9-3.3] per year up to 2019); by contrast, most other GBD super-regions had slowed rates of progress in 2010-2019 relative to 1990-2010. Many countries showed lagging performance on effective coverage indicators for non-communicable diseases relative to those for communicable diseases and maternal and child health, despite non-communicable diseases accounting for a greater proportion of potential health gains in 2019, suggesting that many health systems are not keeping pace with the rising non-communicable disease burden and associated population health needs. In 2019, the UHC effective coverage index was associated with pooled health spending per capita (r=0.79), although countries across the development spectrum had much lower UHC effective coverage than is potentially achievable relative to their health spending. Under maximum efficiency of translating health spending into UHC effective coverage performance, countries would need to reach $1398 pooled health spending per capita (US$ adjusted for purchasing power parity) in order to achieve 80 on the UHC effective coverage index. From 2018 to 2023, an estimated 388.9 million (358.6-421.3) more population equivalents would have UHC effective coverage, falling well short of the GPW13 target of 1 billion more people benefiting from UHC during this time. Current projections point to an estimated 3.1 billion (3.0-3.2) population equivalents still lacking UHC effective coverage in 2023, with nearly a third (968.1 million [903.5-1040.3]) residing in south Asia. Interpretation The present study demonstrates the utility of measuring effective coverage and its role in supporting improved health outcomes for all people-the ultimate goal of UHC and its achievement. Global ambitions to accelerate progress on UHC service coverage are increasingly unlikely unless concerted action on non-communicable diseases occurs and countries can better translate health spending into improved performance. Focusing on effective coverage and accounting for the world's evolving health needs lays the groundwork for better understanding how close-or how far-all populations are in benefiting from UHC. ; Lucas Guimaraes Abreu acknowledges support from Coordenacao de Aperfeicoamento de Pessoal de Nivel Superior -Brasil (Capes) -Finance Code 001, Conselho Nacional de Desenvolvimento Cientifico e Tecnologico (CNPq) and Fundacao de Amparo a Pesquisa do Estado de Minas Gerais (FAPEMIG). Olatunji O Adetokunboh acknowledges South African Department of Science & Innovation, and National Research Foundation. Anurag Agrawal acknowledges support from the Wellcome Trust DBT India Alliance Senior Fellowship IA/CPHS/14/1/501489. Rufus Olusola Akinyemi acknowledges Grant U01HG010273 from the National Institutes of Health (NIH) as part of the H3Africa Consortium. Rufus Olusola Akinyemi is further supported by the FLAIR fellowship funded by the UK Royal Society and the African Academy of Sciences. Syed Mohamed Aljunid acknowledges the Department of Health Policy and Management, Faculty of Public Health, Kuwait University and International Centre for Casemix and Clinical Coding, Faculty of Medicine, National University of Malaysia for the approval and support to participate in this research project. Marcel Ausloos, Claudiu Herteliu, and Adrian Pana acknowledge partial support by a grant of the Romanian National Authority for Scientific Research and Innovation, CNDSUEFISCDI, project number PN-III-P4-ID-PCCF-2016-0084. Till Winfried Barnighausen acknowledges support from the Alexander von Humboldt Foundation through the Alexander von Humboldt Professor award, funded by the German Federal Ministry of Education and Research. Juan J Carrero was supported by the Swedish Research Council (2019-01059). Felix Carvalho acknowledges UID/MULTI/04378/2019 and UID/QUI/50006/2019 support with funding from FCT/MCTES through national funds. Vera Marisa Costa acknowledges support from grant (SFRH/BHD/110001/2015), received by Portuguese national funds through Fundacao para a Ciencia e a Tecnologia (FCT), IP, under the Norma TransitA3ria DL57/2016/CP1334/CT0006. Jan-Walter De Neve acknowledges support from the Alexander von Humboldt Foundation. Kebede Deribe acknowledges support by Wellcome Trust grant number 201900/Z/16/Z as part of his International Intermediate Fellowship. Claudiu Herteliu acknowledges partial support by a grant co-funded by European Fund for Regional Development through Operational Program for Competitiveness, Project ID P_40_382. Praveen Hoogar acknowledges the Centre for Bio Cultural Studies (CBiCS), Manipal Academy of Higher Education(MAHE), Manipal and Centre for Holistic Development and Research (CHDR), Kalghatgi. Bing-Fang Hwang acknowledges support from China Medical University (CMU108-MF-95), Taichung, Taiwan. Mihajlo Jakovljevic acknowledges the Serbian part of this GBD contribution was co-funded through the Grant OI175014 of the Ministry of Education Science and Technological Development of the Republic of Serbia. Aruna M Kamath acknowledges funding from the National Institutes of Health T32 grant (T32GM086270). Srinivasa Vittal Katikireddi acknowledges funding from the Medical Research Council (MC_UU_12017/13 & MC_UU_12017/15), Scottish Government Chief Scientist Office (SPHSU13 & SPHSU15) and an NRS Senior Clinical Fellowship (SCAF/15/02). Yun Jin Kim acknowledges support from the Research Management Centre, Xiamen University Malaysia (XMUMRF/2018-C2/ITCM/0001). Kewal Krishan acknowledges support from the DST PURSE grant and UGC Center of Advanced Study (CAS II) awarded to the Department of Anthropology, Panjab University, Chandigarh, India. Manasi Kumar acknowledges support from K43 TW010716 Fogarty International Center/NIMH. Ben Lacey acknowledges support from the NIHR Oxford Biomedical Research Centre and the BHF Centre of Research Excellence, Oxford. Ivan Landires is a member of the Sistema Nacional de InvestigaciA3n (SNI), which is supported by the Secretaria Nacional de Ciencia Tecnologia e Innovacion (SENACYT), Panama. Jeffrey V Lazarus acknowledges support by a Spanish Ministry of Science, Innovation and Universities Miguel Servet grant (Instituto de Salud Carlos III/ESF, European Union [CP18/00074]). Peter T N Memiah acknowledges CODESRIA; HISTP. Subas Neupane acknowledges partial support from the Competitive State Research Financing of the Expert Responsibility area of Tampere University Hospital. Shuhei Nomura acknowledges support from the Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science, and Technology of Japan (18K10082). Alberto Ortiz acknowledges support by ISCIII PI19/00815, DTS18/00032, ISCIII-RETIC REDinREN RD016/0009 Fondos FEDER, FRIAT, Comunidad de Madrid B2017/BMD-3686 CIFRA2-CM. These funding sources had no role in the writing of the manuscript or the decision to submit it for publication. George C Patton acknowledges support from a National Health & Medical Research Council Fellowship. Marina Pinheiro acknowledges support from FCT for funding through program DL 57/2016 -Norma transitA3ria. Alberto Raggi, David Sattin, and Silvia Schiavolin acknowledge support by a grant from the Italian Ministry of Health (Ricerca Corrente, Fondazione Istituto Neurologico C Besta, Linea 4 -Outcome Research: dagli Indicatori alle Raccomandazioni Cliniche). Daniel Cury Ribeiro acknowledges support from the Sir Charles Hercus Health Research Fellowship -Health Research Council of New Zealand (18/111). Perminder S Sachdev acknowledges funding from the NHMRC Australia. Abdallah M Samy acknowledges support from a fellowship from the Egyptian Fulbright Mission Program. Milena M Santric-Milicevic acknowledges support from the Ministry of Education, Science and Technological Development of the Republic of Serbia (Contract No. 175087). Rodrigo Sarmiento-Suarez acknowledges institutional support from University of Applied and Environmental Sciences in Bogota, Colombia, and Carlos III Institute of Health in Madrid, Spain. Maria Ines Schmidt acknowledges grants from the Foundation for the Support of Research of the State of Rio Grande do Sul (IATS and PrInt) and the Brazilian Ministry of Health. Sheikh Mohammed Shariful Islam acknowledges a fellowship from the National Heart Foundation of Australia and Deakin University. Aziz Sheikh acknowledges support from Health Data Research UK. Kenji Shibuya acknowledges Japan Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology. Joan B Soriano acknowledges support by Centro de Investigacion en Red de Enfermedades Respiratorias (CIBERES), Instituto de Salud Carlos III (ISCIII), Madrid, Spain. Rafael Tabares-Seisdedos acknowledges partial support from grant PI17/00719 from ISCIII-FEDER. Santosh Kumar Tadakamadla acknowledges support from the National Health and Medical Research Council Early Career Fellowship, Australia. Marcello Tonelli acknowledges the David Freeze Chair in Health Services Research at the University of Calgary, AB, Canada. ; "Peer Reviewed"
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(This post continues part 1 which just looked at the data. Part 3 on theory is here) When the Fed raises interest rates, how does inflation respond? Are there "long and variable lags" to inflation and output? There is a standard story: The Fed raises interest rates; inflation is sticky so real interest rates (interest rate - inflation) rise; higher real interest rates lower output and employment; the softer economy pushes inflation down. Each of these is a lagged effect. But despite 40 years of effort, theory struggles to substantiate that story (next post), it's had to see in the data (last post), and the empirical work is ephemeral -- this post. The vector autoregression and related local projection are today the standard empirical tools to address how monetary policy affects the economy, and have been since Chris Sims' great work in the 1970s. (See Larry Christiano's review.) I am losing faith in the method and results. We need to find new ways to learn about the effects of monetary policy. This post expands on some thoughts on this topic in "Expectations and the Neutrality of Interest Rates," several of my papers from the 1990s* and excellent recent reviews from Valerie Ramey and Emi Nakamura and Jón Steinsson, who eloquently summarize the hard identification and computation troubles of contemporary empirical work.Maybe popular wisdom is right, and economics just has to catch up. Perhaps we will. But a popular belief that does not have solid scientific theory and empirical backing, despite a 40 year effort for models and data that will provide the desired answer, must be a bit less trustworthy than one that does have such foundations. Practical people should consider that the Fed may be less powerful than traditionally thought, and that its interest rate policy has different effects than commonly thought. Whether and under what conditions high interest rates lower inflation, whether they do so with long and variable but nonetheless predictable and exploitable lags, is much less certain than you think. Here is a replication of one of the most famous monetary VARs, Christiano Eichenbaum and Evans 1999, from Valerie Ramey's 2016 review: Fig. 1 Christiano et al. (1999) identification. 1965m1–1995m6 full specification: solid black lines; 1983m1–2007m12 full specification: short dashed blue (dark gray in the print version) lines; 1983m1–2007m12, omits money and reserves: long-dashed red (gray in the print version) lines. Light gray bands are 90% confidence bands. Source: Ramey 2016. Months on x axis. The black lines plot the original specification. The top left panel plots the path of the Federal Funds rate after the Fed unexpectedly raises the interest rate. The funds rate goes up, but only for 6 months or so. Industrial production goes down and unemployment goes up, peaking at month 20. The figure plots the level of the CPI, so inflation is the slope of the lower right hand panel. You see inflation goes the "wrong" way, up, for about 6 months, and then gently declines. Interest rates indeed seem to affect the economy with long lags. This was the broad outline of consensus empirical estimates for many years. It is common to many other studies, and it is consistent with the beliefs of policy makers and analysts. It's pretty much what Friedman (1968) told us to expect. Getting contemporary models to produce something like this is much harder, but that's the next blog post. What's a VAR?I try to keep this blog accessible to nonspecialists, so I'll step back momentarily to explain how we produce graphs like these. Economists who know what a VAR is should skip to the next section heading. How do we measure the effect of monetary policy on other variables? Milton Friedman and Anna Schwartz kicked it off in the Monetary History by pointing to the historical correlation of money growth with inflation and output. They knew as we do that correlation is not causation, so they pointed to the fact that money growth preceeded inflation and output growth. But as James Tobin pointed out, the cock's crow comes before, but does not cause, the sun to rise. So too people may go get out some money ahead of time when they see more future business activity on the horizon. Even correlation with a lead is not causation. What to do? Clive Granger's causality and Chris Sims' VAR, especially "Macroeconomics and Reality" gave today's answer. (And there is a reason that everybody mentioned so far has a Nobel prize.) First, we find a monetary policy "shock," a movement in the interest rate (these days; money, then) that is plausibly not a response to economic events and especially to expected future economic events. We think of the Fed setting interest rates by a response to economic data plus deviations from that response, such as interest rate = (#) output + (#) inflation + (#) other variables + disturbance. We want to isolate the "disturbance," movements in the interest rate not taken in response to economic events. (I use "shock" to mean an unpredictable variable, and "disturbance" to mean deviation from an equation like the above, but one that can persist for a while. A monetary policy "shock" is an unexpected movement in the disturbance.) The "rule" part here can be but need not be the Taylor rule, and can include other variables than output and inflation. It is what the Fed usually does given other variables, and therefore (hopefully) controls for reverse causality from expected future economic events to interest rates. Now, in any individual episode, output and inflation and inflation following a shock will be influenced by subsequent shocks to the economy, monetary and other. But those average out. So, the average value of inflation, output, employment, etc. following a monetary policy shock is a measure of how the shock affects the economy all on its own. That is what has been plotted above. VARs were one of the first big advances in the modern empirical quest to find "exogenous" variation and (somewhat) credibly find causal relationships. Mostly the huge literature varies on how one finds the "shocks." Traditional VARs use regressions of the above equations and the residual is the shock, with a big question just how many and which contemporaneous variables one adds in the regression. Romer and Romer pioneered the "narrative approach," reading the Fed minutes to isolate shocks. Some technical details at the bottom and much more discussion below. The key is finding shocks. One can just regress output and inflation on the shocks to produce the response function, which is a "local projection" not a "VAR," but I'll use "VAR" for both techniques for lack of a better encompassing word. Losing faithShocks, what shocks?What's a "shock" anyway? The concept is that the Fed considers its forecast of inflation, output and other variables it is trying to control, gauges the usual and appropriate response, and then adds 25 or 50 basis points, at random, just for the heck of it. The question VARS try to answer is the same: What happens to the economy if the Fed raises interest rates unexpectedly, for no particular reason at all? But the Fed never does this. Ask them. Read the minutes. The Fed does not roll dice. They always raise or lower interest rates for a reason, that reason is always a response to something going on in the economy, and most of the time how it affects forecasts of inflation and employment. There are no shocks as defined.I speculated here that we might get around this problem: If we knew the Fed was responding to something that had no correlation with future output, then even though that is an endogenous response, then it is a valid movement for estimating the effect of interest rates on output. My example was, what if the Fed "responds" to the weather. Well, though endogenous, it's still valid for estimating the effect on output. The Fed does respond to lots of things, including foreign exchange, financial stability issues, equity, terrorist attacks, and so forth. But I can't think of any of these in which the Fed is not thinking of these events for their effect on output and inflation, which is why I never took the idea far. Maybe you can. Shock isolation also depends on complete controls for the Fed's information. If the Fed uses any information about future output and inflation that is not captured in our regression, then information about future output and inflation remains in the "shock" series. The famous "price puzzle" is a good example. For the first few decades of VARs, interest rate shocks seemed to lead to higher inflation. It took a long specification search to get rid of this undesired result. The story was, that the Fed saw inflation coming in ways not completely controlled for by the regression. The Fed raised interest rates to try to forestall the inflation, but was a bit hesitant about it so did not cure the inflation that was coming. We see higher interest rates followed by higher inflation, though the true causal effect of interest rates goes the other way. This problem was "cured" by adding commodity prices to the interest rate rule, on the idea that fast-moving commodity prices would capture the information the Fed was using to forecast inflation. (Interestingly these days we seem to see core inflation as the best forecaster, and throw out commodity prices!) With those and some careful orthogonalization choices, the "price puzzle" was tamped down to the one year or so delay you see above. (Neo-Fisherians might object that maybe the price puzzle was trying to tell us something all these years!) Nakamura and Steinsson write of this problem: "What is being assumed is that controlling for a few lags of a few variables captures all endogenous variation in policy... This seems highly unlikely to be true in practice. The Fed bases its policy decisions on a huge amount of data. Different considerations (in some cases highly idiosyncratic) affect policy at different times. These include stress in the banking system, sharp changes in commodity prices, a recent stock market crash, a financial crisis in emerging markets, terrorist attacks, temporary investment tax credits, and the Y2K computer glitch. The list goes on and on. Each of these considerations may only affect policy in a meaningful way on a small number of dates, and the number of such influences is so large that it is not feasible to include them all in a regression. But leaving any one of them out will result in a monetary policy "shock" that the researcher views as exogenous but is in fact endogenous." Nakamura and Steinsson offer 9/11 as another example summarizing my "high frequency identification" paper with Monika Piazzesi: The Fed lowered interest rates after the terrorist attack, likely reacting to its consequences for output and inflation. But VARs register the event as an exogenous shock.Romer and Romer suggested that we use Fed Greenbook forecasts of inflation and output as controls, as those should represent the Fed's complete information set. They provide narrative evidence that Fed members trust Greenback forecasts more than you might suspect. This issue is a general Achilles heel of empirical macro and finance: Does your procedure assume agents see no more information than you have included in the model or estimate? If yes, you have a problem. Similarly, "Granger causality" answers the cock's crow-sunrise problem by saying that if unexpected x leads unexpected y then x causes y. But it's only real causality if the "expected" includes all information, as the price puzzle counterexample shows. Just what properties do we need of a shock in order to measure the response to the question, "what if the Fed raised rates for no reason?" This strikes me as a bit of an unsolved question -- or rather, one that everyone thinks is so obvious that we don't really look at it. My suggestion that the shock only need be orthogonal to the variable whose response we're estimating is informal, and I don't know of formal literature that's picked it up. Must "shocks" be unexpected, i.e. not forecastable from anything in the previous time information set? Must they surprise people? I don't think so -- it is neither necessary nor sufficient for shock to be unforecastable for it to identify the inflation and output responses. Not responding to expected values of the variable whose response you want to measure should be enough. If bond markets found out about a random funds rate rise one day ahead, it would then be an "expected" shock, but clearly just as good for macro. Romer and Romer have been criticized that their shocks are predictable, but this may not matter. The above Nakamura and Steinsson quote says leaving out any information leads to a shock that is not strictly exogenous. But strictly exogenous may not be necessary for estimating, say, the effect of interest rates on inflation. It is enough to rule out reverse causality and third effects. Either I'm missing a well known econometric literature, as is everyone else writing the VARs I've read who don't cite it, or there is a good theory paper to be written.Romer and Romer, thinking deeply about how to read "shocks" from the Fed minutes, define shocks thus to circumvent the "there are no shocks" problem:we look for times when monetary policymakers felt the economy was roughly at potential (or normal) output, but decided that the prevailing rate of inflation was too high. Policymakers then chose to cut money growth and raise interest rates, realizing that there would be (or at least could be) substantial negative consequences for aggregate output and unemployment. These criteria are designed to pick out times when policymakers essentially changed their tastes about the acceptable level of inflation. They weren't just responding to anticipated movements in the real economy and inflation. [My emphasis.] You can see the issue. This is not an "exogenous" movement in the funds rate. It is a response to inflation, and to expected inflation, with a clear eye on expected output as well. It really is a nonlinear rule, ignore inflation for a while until it gets really bad then finally get serious about it. Or, as they say, it is a change in rule, an increase in the sensitivity of the short run interest rate response to inflation, taken in response to inflation seeming to get out of control in a longer run sense. Does this identify the response to an "exogenous" interest rate increase? Not really. But maybe it doesn't matter. Are we even asking an interesting question? The whole question, what would happen if the Fed raised interest rates for no reason, is arguably besides the point. At a minimum, we should be clearer about what question we are asking, and whether the policies we analyze are implementations of that question. The question presumes a stable "rule," (e.g. \(i_t = \rho i_{t-1} + \phi_\pi \pi_t + \phi_x x_t + u_t\)) and asks what happens in response to a deviation \( +u_t \) from the rule. Is that an interesting question? The standard story for 1980-1982 is exactly not such an event. Inflation was not conquered by a big "shock," a big deviation from 1970s practice, while keeping that practice intact. Inflation was conquered (so the story goes) by a change in the rule, by a big increase in $\phi_\pi$. That change raised interest rates, but arguably without any deviation from the new rule \(u_t\) at all. Thinking in terms of the Phillips curve \( \pi_t = E_t \pi_{t+1} + \kappa x_t\), it was not a big negative \(x_t\) that brought down inflation, but the credibility of the new rule that brought down \(E_t \pi_{t+1}\). If the art of reducing inflation is to convince people that a new regime has arrived, then the response to any monetary policy "shock" orthogonal to a stable "rule" completely misses that policy. Romer and Romer are almost talking about a rule-change event. For 2022, they might be looking at the Fed's abandonment of flexible average inflation targeting and its return to a Taylor rule. However, they don't recognize the importance of the distinction, treating changes in rule as equivalent to a residual. Changing the rule changes expectations in quite different ways from a residual of a stable rule. Changes with a bigger commitment should have bigger effects, and one should standardize somehow by the size and permanence of the rule change, not necessarily the size of the interest rate rise. And, having asked "what if the Fed changes rule to be more serious about inflation," we really cannot use the analysis to estimate what happens if the Fed shocks interest rates and does not change the rule. It takes some mighty invariance result from an economic theory that a change in rule has the same effect as a shock to a given rule. There is no right and wrong, really. We just need to be more careful about what question the empirical procedure asks, if we want to ask that question, and if our policy analysis actually asks the same question. Estimating rules, Clarida Galí and Gertler. Clarida, Galí, and Gertler (2000) is a justly famous paper, and in this context for doing something totally different to evaluate monetary policy. They estimate rules, fancy versions of \(i_t = \rho i_{t-1} +\phi_\pi \pi_t + \phi_x x_t + u_t\), and they estimate how the \(\phi\) parameters change over time. They attribute the end of 1970s inflation to a change in the rule, a rise in \(\phi_\pi\) from the 1970s to the 1980s. In their model, a higher \( \phi_\pi\) results in less volatile inflation. They do not estimate any response functions. The rest of us were watching the wrong thing all along. Responses to shocks weren't the interesting quantity. Changes in the rule were the interesting quantity. Yes, I criticized the paper, but for issues that are irrelevant here. (In the new Keynesian model, the parameter that reduces inflation isn't the one they estimate.) The important point here is that they are doing something completely different, and offer us a roadmap for how else we might evaluate monetary policy if not by impulse-response functions to monetary policy shocks. Fiscal theoryThe interesting question for fiscal theory is, "What is the effect of an interest rate rise not accompanied by a change in fiscal policy?" What can the Fed do by itself? By contrast, standard models (both new and old Keynesian) include concurrent fiscal policy changes when interest rates rise. Governments tighten in present value terms, at least to pay higher interest costs on the debt and the windfall to bondholders that flows from unexpected disinflation. Experience and estimates surely include fiscal changes along with monetary tightening. Both fiscal and monetary authorities react to inflation with policy actions and reforms. Growth-oriented microeconomic reforms with fiscal consequences often follow as well -- rampant inflation may have had something to do with Carter era trucking, airline, and telecommunications reform. Yet no current estimate tries to look for a monetary shock orthogonal to fiscal policy change. The estimates we have are at best the effects of monetary policy together with whatever induced or coincident fiscal and microeconomic policy tends to happen at the same time as central banks get serious about fighting inflation. Identifying the component of a monetary policy shock orthogonal to fiscal policy, and measuring its effects is a first order question for fiscal theory of monetary policy. That's why I wrote this blog post. I set out to do it, and then started to confront how VARs are already falling apart in our hands. Just what "no change in fiscal policy" means is an important question that varies by application. (Lots more in "fiscal roots" here, fiscal theory of monetary policy here and in FTPL.) For simple calculations, I just ask what happens if interest rates change with no change in primary surplus. One might also define "no change" as no change in tax rates, automatic stabilizers, or even habitual discretionary stimulus and bailout, no disturbance \(u_t\) in a fiscal rule \(s_t = a + \theta_\pi \pi_t + \theta_x x_t + ... + u_t\). There is no right and wrong here either, there is just making sure you ask an interesting question. Long and variable lags, and persistent interest rate movementsThe first plot shows a mighty long lag between the monitor policy shock and its effect on inflation and output. That does not mean that the economy has long and variable lags. This plot is actually not representative, because in the black lines the interest rate itself quickly reverts to zero. It is common to find a more protracted interest rate response to the shock, as shown in the red and blue lines. That mirrors common sense: When the Fed starts tightening, it sets off a year or so of stair-step further increases, and then a plateau, before similar stair-step reversion. That raises the question, does the long-delayed response of output and inflation represent a delayed response to the initial monetary policy shock, or does it represent a nearly instantaneous response to the higher subsequent interest rates that the shock sets off? Another way of putting the question, is the response of inflation and output invariant to changes in the response of the funds rate itself? Do persistent and transitory funds rate changes have the same responses? If you think of the inflation and output responses as economic responses to the initial shock only, then it does not matter if interest rates revert immediately to zero, or go on a 10 year binge following the initial shock. That seems like a pretty strong assumption. If you think that a more persistent interest rate response would lead to a larger or more persistent output and inflation response, then you think some of what we see in the VARs is a quick structural response to the later higher interest rates, when they come. Back in 1988, I posed this question in "what do the VARs mean?" and showed you can read it either way. The persistent output and inflation response can represent either long economic lags to the initial shock, or much less laggy responses to interest rates when they come. I showed how to deconvolute the response function to the structural effect of interest rates on inflation and output and how persistently interest rates rise. The inflation and output responses might be the same with shorter funds rate responses, or they might be much different. Obviously (though often forgotten), whether the inflation and output responses are invariant to changes in the funds rate response needs a model. If in the economic model only unexpected interest rate movements affect output and inflation, though with lags, then the responses are as conventionally read structural responses and invariant to the interest rate path. There is no such economic model. Lucas (1972) says only unexpected money affects output, but with no lags, and expected money affects inflation. New Keynesian models have very different responses to permanent vs. transitory interest rate shocks. Interestingly, Romer and Romer do not see it this way, and regard their responses as structural long and variable lags, invariant to the interest rate response. They opine that given their reading of a positive shock in 2022, a long and variable lag to inflation reduction is baked in, no matter what the Fed does next. They argue that the Fed should stop raising interest rates. (In fairness, it doesn't look like they thought about the issue much, so this is an implicit rather than explicit assumption.) The alternative view is that effects of a shock on inflation are really effects of the subsequent rate rises on inflation, that the impulse response function to inflation is not invariant to the funds rate response, so stopping the standard tightening cycle would undo the inflation response. Argue either way, but at least recognize the important assumption behind the conclusions. Was the success of inflation reduction in the early 1980s just a long delayed response to the first few shocks? Or was the early 1980s the result of persistent large real interest rates following the initial shock? (Or, something else entirely, a coordinated fiscal-monetary reform... But I'm staying away from that and just discussing conventional narratives, not necessarily the right answer.) If the latter, which is the conventional narrative, then you think it does matter if the funds rate shock is followed by more funds rate rises (or positive deviations from a rule), that the output and inflation response functions do not directly measure long lags from the initial shock. De-convoluting the structural funds rate to inflation response and the persistent funds rate response, you would estimate much shorter structural lags. Nakamura and Steinsson are of this view: While the Volcker episode is consistent with a large amount of monetary nonneutrality, it seems less consistent with the commonly held view that monetary policy affects output with "long and variable lags." To the contrary, what makes the Volcker episode potentially compelling is that output fell and rose largely in sync with the actions [interest rates, not shocks] of the Fed. And that's a good thing too. We've done a lot of dynamic economics since Friedman's 1968 address. There is really nothing in dynamic economic theory that produces a structural long-delayed response to shocks, without the continued pressure of high interest rates. (A correspondent objects to "largely in sync" pointing out several clear months long lags between policy actions and results in 1980. It's here for the methodological point, not the historical one.) However, if the output and inflation responses are not invariant to the interest rate response, then the VAR directly measures an incredibly narrow experiment: What happens in response to a surprise interest rate rise, followed by the plotted path of interest rates? And that plotted path is usually pretty temporary, as in the above graph. What would happen if the Fed raised rates and kept them up, a la 1980? The VAR is silent on that question. You need to calibrate some model to the responses we have to infer that answer. VARs and shock responses are often misread as generic theory-free estimates of "the effects of monetary policy." They are not. At best, they tell you the effect of one specific experiment: A random increase in funds rate, on top of a stable rule, followed by the usual following path of funds rate. Any other implication requires a model, explicit or implicit. More specifically, without that clearly false invariance assumption, VARs cannot directly answer a host of important questions. Two on my mind: 1) What happens if the Fed raises interest rates permanently? Does inflation eventually rise? Does it rise in the short run? This is the "Fisherian" and "neo-Fisherian" questions, and the answer "yes" pops unexpectedly out of the standard new-Keynesian model. 2) Is the short-run negative response of inflation to interest rates stronger for more persistent rate rises? The long-term debt fiscal theory mechanism for a short-term inflation decline is tied to the persistence of the shock and the maturity structure of the debt. The responses to short-lived interest rate movements (top left panel) are silent on these questions. Directly is an important qualifier. It is not impossible to answer these questions, but you have to work harder to identify persistent interest rate shocks. For example, Martín Uribe identifies permanent vs. transitory interest rate shocks, and finds a positive response of inflation to permanent interest rate rises. How? You can't just pick out the interest rate rises that turned out to be permanent. You have to find shocks or components of the shock that are ex-ante predictably going to be permanent, based on other forecasting variables and the correlation of the shock with other shocks. For example, a short-term rate shock that also moves long-term rates might be more permanent than one which does not do so. (That requires the expectations hypothesis, which doesn't work, and long term interest rates move too much anyway in response to transitory funds rate shocks. So, this is not directly a suggestion, just an example of the kind of thing one must do. Uribe's model is more complex than I can summarize in a blog.) Given how small and ephemeral the shocks are already, subdividing them into those that are expected to have permanent vs. transitory effects on the federal funds rate is obviously a challenge. But it's not impossible. Monetary policy shocks account for small fractions of inflation, output and funds rate variation. Friedman thought that most recessions and inflations were due to monetary mistakes. The VARs pretty uniformly deny that result. The effects of monetary policy shocks on output and inflation add up to less than 10 percent of the variation of output and inflation. In part the shocks are small, and in part the responses to the shocks are small. Most recessions come from other shocks, not monetary mistakes. Worse, both in data and in models, most inflation variation comes from inflation shocks, most output variation comes from output shocks, etc. The cross-effects of one variable on another are small. And "inflation shock" (or "marginal cost shock"), "output shock" and so forth are just labels for our ignorance -- error terms in regressions, unforecasted movements -- not independently measured quantities. (This and old point, for example in my 1994 paper with the great title "Shocks." Technically, the variance of output is the sum of the squares of the impulse-response functions -- the plots -- times the variance of the shocks. Thus small shocks and small responses mean not much variance explained.)This is a deep point. The exquisite attention put to the effects of monetary policy in new-Keynesian models, while interesting to the Fed, are then largely beside the point if your question is what causes recessions. Comprehensive models work hard to match all of the responses, not just to monetary policy shocks. But it's not clear that the nominal rigidities that are important for the effects of monetary policy are deeply important to other (supply) shocks, and vice versa. This is not a criticism. Economics always works better if we can use small models that focus on one thing -- growth, recessions, distorting effect of taxes, effect of monetary policy -- without having to have a model of everything in which all effects interact. But, be clear we no longer have a model of everything. "Explaining recessions" and "understanding the effects of monetary policy" are somewhat separate questions. Monetary policy shocks also account for small fractions of the movement in the federal funds rate itself. Most of the funds rate movement is in the rule, the reaction to the economy term. Like much empirical economics, the quest for causal identification leads us to look at a tiny causes with tiny effects, that do little to explain much variation in the variable of interest (inflation). Well, cause is cause, and the needle is the sharpest item in the haystack. But one worries about the robustness of such tiny effects, and to what extent they summarize historical experience. To be concrete, here is a typical shock regression, 1960:1-2023:6 monthly data, standard errors in parentheses: ff(t) = a + b ff(t-1) + c[ff(t-1)-ff(t-2)] + d CPI(t) + e unemployment(t) + monetary policy shock, Where "CPI" is the percent change in the CPI (CPIAUCSL) from a year earlier. ff(t-1)ff(t-1)-ff(t-2)CPIUnempR20.970.390.032-0.0170.985(0.009)(0.07)(0.013)(0.009)The funds rate is persistent -- the lag term (0.97) is large. Recent changes matter too: Once the Fed starts a tightening cycle, it's likely to keep raising rates. And the Fed responds to CPI and unemployment. The plot shows the actual federal funds rate (blue), the model or predicted federal funds rate (red), the shock which is the difference between the two (orange) and the Romer and Romer dates (vertical lines). You can't see the difference between actual and predicted funds rate, which is the point. They are very similar and the shocks are small. They are closer horizontally than vertically, so the vertical difference plotted as shock is still visible. The shocks are much smaller than the funds rate, and smaller than the rise and fall in the funds rate in a typical tightening or loosening cycle. The shocks are bunched, with by far the biggest ones in the early 1980s. The shocks have been tiny since the 1980s. (Romer and Romer don't find any shocks!) Now, our estimates of the effect of monetary policy look at the average values of inflation, output, and employment in the 4-5 years after a shock. Really, you say, looking at the graph? That's going to be dominated by the experience of the early 1980s. And with so many positive and negative shocks close together, the average value 4 years later is going to be driven by subtle timing of when the positive or negative shocks line up with later events. Put another way, here is a plot of inflation 30 months after a shock regressed on the shock. Shock on the x axis, subsequent inflation on the y axis. The slope of the line is our estimate of the effect of the shock on inflation 30 months out (source, with details). Hmm. One more graph (I'm having fun here):This is a plot of inflation for the 4 years after each shock, times that shock. The right hand side is the same graph with an expanded y scale. The average of these histories is our impulse response function. (The big lines are the episodes which multiply the big shocks of the early 1980s. They mostly converge because, either multiplied by positive or negative shocks, inflation wend down in the 1980s.) Impulse response functions are just quantitative summaries of the lessons of history. You may be underwhelmed that history is sending a clear story. Again, welcome to causal economics -- tiny average responses to tiny but identified movements is what we estimate, not broad lessons of history. We do not estimate "what is the effect of the sustained high real interest rates of the early 1980s," for example, or "what accounts for the sharp decline of inflation in the early 1980s?" Perhaps we should, though confronting endogeneity of the interest rate responses some other way. That's my main point today. Estimates disappear after 1982Ramey's first variation in the first plot is to use data from 1983 to 2007. Her second variation is to also omit the monetary variables. Christiano Eichenbaum and Evans were still thinking in terms of money supply control, but our Fed does not control money supply. The evidence that higher interest rates lower inflation disappears after 1983, with or without money. This too is a common finding. It might be because there simply aren't any monetary policy shocks. Still, we're driving a car with a yellowed AAA road map dated 1982 on it. Monetary policy shocks still seem to affect output and employment, just not inflation. That poses a deeper problem. If there just aren't any monetary policy shocks, we would just get big standard errors on everything. That only inflation disappears points to the vanishing Phillips curve, which will be the weak point in the theory to come. It is the Phillips curve by which lower output and employment push down inflation. But without the Phillips curve, the whole standard story for interest rates to affect inflation goes away. Computing long-run responsesThe long lags of the above plot are already pretty long horizons, with interesting economics still going on at 48 months. As we get interested in long run neutrality, identification via long run sign restrictions (monetary policy should not permanently affect output), and the effect of persistent interest rate shocks, we are interested in even longer run responses. The "long run risks" literature in asset pricing is similarly crucially interested in long run properties. Intuitively, we should know this will be troublesome. There aren't all that many nonoverlapping 4 year periods after interest rate shocks to measure effects, let alone 10 year periods.VARs estimate long run responses with a parametric structure. Organize the data (output, inflation, interest rate, etc) into a vector \(x_t = [y_t \; \pi_t \; i_t \; ...]'\), then the VAR can be written \(x_{t+1} = Ax_t + u_t\). We start from zero, move \(x_1 = u_1\) in an interesting way, and then the response function just simulates forward, with \(x_j = A^j x_1\). But here an oft-forgotten lesson of 1980s econometrics pops up: It is dangerous to estimate long-run dynamics by fitting a short run model and then finding its long-run implications. Raising matrices to the 48th power \(A^{48}\) can do weird things, the 120th power (10 years) weirder things. OLS and maximum likelihood prize one step ahead \(R^2\), and will happily accept small one step ahead mis specifications that add up to big misspecification 10 years out. (I learned this lesson in the "Random walk in GNP.") Long run implications are driven by the maximum eigenvalue of the \(A\) transition matrix, and its associated eigenvector. \(A^j = Q \Lambda^j Q^{-1}\). This is a benefit and a danger. Specify and estimate the dynamics of the combination of variables with the largest eigenvector right, and lots of details can be wrong. But standard estimates aren't trying hard to get these right. The "local projection" alternative directly estimates long run responses: Run regressions of inflation in 10 years on the shock today. You can see the tradeoff: there aren't many non-overlapping 10 year intervals, so this will be imprecisely estimated. The VAR makes a strong parametric assumption about long-run dynamics. When it's right, you get better estimates. When it's wrong, you get misspecification. My experience running lots of VARs is that monthly VARs raised to large powers often give unreliable responses. Run at least a one-year VAR before you start looking at long run responses. Cointegrating vectors are the most reliable variables to include. They are typically the state variable that most reliably carries long - run responses. But pay attention to getting them right. Imposing integrating and cointegrating structure by just looking at units is a good idea. The regression of long-run returns on dividend yields is a good example. The dividend yield is a cointegrating vector, and is the slow-moving state variable. A one period VAR \[\left[ \begin{array}{c} r_{t+1} \\ dp_{t+1} \end{array} \right] = \left[ \begin{array}{cc} 0 & b_r \\ 0 & \rho \end{array}\right] \left[ \begin{array}{c} r_{t} \\ dp_{t} \end{array}\right]+ \varepsilon_{t+1}\] implies a long horizon regression \(r_{t+j} = b_r \rho^j dp_{t} +\) error. Direct regressions ("local projections") \(r_{t+j} = b_{r,j} dp_t + \) error give about the same answers, though the downward bias in \(\rho\) estimates is a bit of an issue, but with much larger standard errors. The constraint \(b_{r,j} = b_r \rho^j\) isn't bad. But it can easily go wrong. If you don't impose that dividends and price are cointegrated, or with vector other than 1 -1, if you allow a small sample to estimate \(\rho>1\), if you don't put in dividend yields at all and just a lot of short-run forecasters, it can all go badly. Forecasting bond returns was for me a good counterexample. A VAR forecasting one-year bond returns from today's yields gives very different results from taking a monthly VAR, even with several lags, and using \(A^{12}\) to infer the one-year return forecast. Small pricing errors or microstructure dominate the monthly data, which produces junk when raised to the twelfth power. (Climate regressions are having fun with the same issue. Small estimated effects of temperature on growth, raised to the 100th power, can produce nicely calamitous results. But use basic theory to think about units.) Nakamura and Steinsson (appendix) show how sensitive some standard estimates of impulse response functions are to these questions. Weak evidenceFor the current policy question, I hope you get a sense of how weak the evidence is for the "standard view" that higher interest rates reliably lower inflation, though with a long and variable lag, and the Fed has a good deal of control over inflation. Yes, many estimates look the same, but there is a pretty strong prior going in to that. Most people don't publish papers that don't conform to something like the standard view. Look how long it took from Sims (1980) to Christiano Eichenbaum and Evans (1999) to produce a response function that does conform to the standard view, what Friedman told us to expect in (1968). That took a lot of playing with different orthogonalization, variable inclusion, and other specification assumptions. This is not criticism: when you have a strong prior, it makes sense to see if the data can be squeezed in to the prior. Once authors like Ramey and Nakamura and Steinsson started to look with a critical eye, it became clearer just how weak the evidence is. Standard errors are also wide, but the variability in results due to changes in sample and specification are much larger than formal standard errors. That's why I don't stress that statistical aspect. You play with 100 models, try one variable after another to tamp down the price puzzle, and then compute standard errors as if the 100th model were written in stone. This post is already too long, but showing how results change with different specifications would have been a good addition. For example, here are a few more Ramey plots of inflation responses, replicating various previous estimatesTake your pick. What should we do instead? Well, how else should we measure the effects of monetary policy? One natural approach turns to the analysis of historical episodes and changes in regime, with specific models in mind. Romer and Romer pass on thoughts on this approach: ...some macroeconomic behavior may be fundamentally episodic in nature. Financial crises, recessions, disinflations, are all events that seem to play out in an identifiable pattern. There may be long periods where things are basically fine, that are then interrupted by short periods when they are not. If this is true, the best way to understand them may be to focus on episodes—not a cross-section proxy or a tiny sub-period. In addition, it is valuable to know when the episodes were and what happened during them. And, the identification and understanding of episodes may require using sources other than conventional data.A lot of my and others' fiscal theory writing has taken a similar view. The long quiet zero bound is a test of theories: old-Keynesian models predict a delation spiral, new-Keynesian models predicts sunspot volatility, fiscal theory is consistent with stable quiet inflation. The emergence of inflation in 2021 and its easing despite interest rates below inflation likewise validates fiscal vs. standard theories. The fiscal implications of abandoning the gold standard in 1933 plus Roosevelt's "emergency" budget make sense of that episode. The new-Keynesian reaction parameter \(\phi_\pi\) in \(i_t - \phi_\pi \pi_t\), which leads to unstable dynamics for ](\phi_\pi>1\) is not identified by time series data. So use "other sources," like plain statements on the Fed website about how they react to inflation. I already cited Clarida Galí and Gertler, for measuring the rule not the response to the shock, and explaining the implications of that rule for their model. Nakamura and Steinsson likewise summarize Mussa's (1986) classic study of what happens when countries switch from fixed to floating exchange rates: "The switch from a fixed to a flexible exchange rate is a purely monetary action. In a world where monetary policy has no real effects, such a policy change would not affect real variables like the real exchange rate. Figure 3 demonstrates dramatically that the world we live in is not such a world."Also, analysis of particular historical episodes is enlightening. But each episode has other things going on and so invites alternative explanations. 90 years later, we're still fighting about what caused the Great Depression. 1980 is the poster child for monetary disinflation, yet as Nakamura and Steinsson write, Many economists find the narrative account above and the accompanying evidence about output to be compelling evidence of large monetary nonneutrality. However, there are other possible explanations for these movements in output. There were oil shocks both in September 1979 and in February 1981.... Credit controls were instituted between March and July of 1980. Anticipation effects associated with the phased-in tax cuts of the Reagan administration may also have played a role in the 1981–1982 recession ....Studying changes in regime, such as fixed to floating or the zero bound era, help somewhat relative to studying a particular episode, in that they have some of the averaging of other shocks. But the attraction of VARs will remain. None of these produces what VARs seemed to produce, a theory-free qualitative estimate of the effects of monetary policy. Many tell you that prices are sticky, but not how prices are sticky. Are they old-Keynesian backward looking sticky or new-Keynesian rational expectations sticky? What is the dynamic response of relative inflation to a change in a pegged exchange rate? What is the dynamic response of real relative prices to productivity shocks? Observations such as Mussa's graph can help to calibrate models, but does not answer those questions directly. My observations about the zero bound or the recent inflation similarly seem (to me) decisive about one class of model vs. another, at least subject to Occam's razor about epicycles, but likewise do not provide a theory-free impulse response function. Nakamura and Steinsson write at length about other approaches; model-based moment matching and use of micro data in particular. This post is going on too long; read their paper. Of course, as we have seen, VARs only seem to offer a model-free quantitative measurement of "the effects of monetary policy," but it's hard to give up on the appearance of such an answer. VARs and impulse responses also remain very useful ways of summarizing the correlations and cross correlations of data, even without cause and effect interpretation. In the end, many ideas are successful in economics when they tell researchers what to do, when they offer a relatively clear recipe for writing papers. "Look at episodes and think hard is not such recipe." "Run a VAR is." So, as you think about how we can evaluate monetary policy, think about a better recipe as well as a good answer. (Stay tuned. This post is likely to be updated a few times!) VAR technical appendixTechnically, running VARs is very easy, at least until you start trying to smooth out responses with Bayesian and other techniques. Line up the data in a vector, i.e. \(x_t = [i_t \; \pi_t\; y_t]'\). Then run a regression of each variable on lags of the others, \[x_t = Ax_{t-1} + u_t.\] If you want more than one lag of the right hand variables, just make a bigger \(x\) vector, \(x_t = [i_t\; \pi_t \; y_t \; i_{t-1}\; \pi_{t-1} \;y_{t-1}]'.\) The residuals of such regressions \(u_t\) will be correlated, so you have to decide whether, say, the correlation between interest rate and inflation shocks means the Fed responds in the period to inflation, or inflation responds within the period to interest rates, or some combination of the two. That's the "identification" assumption issue. You can write it as a matrix \(C\) so that \(u_t = C \varepsilon_t\) and cov\((\varepsilon_t \varepsilon_t')=I\) or you can include some contemporaneous values into the right hand sides. Now, with \(x_t = Ax_{t-1} + C\varepsilon_t\), you start with \(x_0=0\), choose one series to shock, e.g. \(\varepsilon_{i,1}=1\) leaving the others alone, and just simulate forward. The resulting path of the other variables is the above plot, the "impulse response function." Alternatively you can run a regression \(x_t = \sum_{j=0}^\infty \theta_j \varepsilon_{t-j}\) and the \(\theta_j\) are (different, in sample) estimates of the same thing. That's "local projection". Since the right hand variables are all orthogonal, you can run single or multiple regressions. (See here for equations.) Either way, you have found the moving average representation, \(x_t = \theta(L)\varepsilon_t\), in the first case with \(\theta(L)=(I-AL)^{-1}C\) in the second case directly. Since the right hand variables are all orthogonal, the variance of the series is the sum of its loading on all of the shocks, \(cov(x_t) = \sum_{j=0}^\infty \theta_j \theta_j'\). This "forecast error variance decomposition" is behind my statement that small amounts of inflation variance are due to monetary policy shocks rather than shocks to other variables, and mostly inflation shocks. Update:Luis Garicano has a great tweet thread explaining the ideas with a medical analogy. Kamil Kovar has a nice follow up blog post, with emphasis on Europe. He makes a good point that I should have thought of: A monetary policy "shock" is a deviation from a "rule." So, the Fed's and ECB's failure to respond to inflation as they "usually" do in 2021-2022 counts exactly the same as a 3-5% deliberate lowering of the interest rate. Lowering interest rates for no reason, and leaving interest rates alone when the regression rule says raise rates are the same in this methodology. That "loosening" of policy was quickly followed by inflation easing, so an updated VAR should exhibit a strong "price puzzle" -- a negative shock is followed by less, not more inflation. Of course historians and practical people might object that failure to act as usual has exactly the same effects as acting. * Some Papers: Comment on Romer and Romer What ends recessions? Some "what's a shock?"Comment on Romer and Romer A new measure of monetary policy. The greenbook forecasts, and beginning thoughts that strict exogeneity is not necessary. Shocks monetary shocks explain small fractions of output variance.Comments on Hamilton, more thoughts on what a shock is.What do the VARs mean? cited above, is the response to the shock or to persistent interest rates?The Fed and Interest Rates, with Monika Piazzesi. Daily data and interest rates to identify shocks. Decomposing the yield curve with Monika Piazzesi. Starts with a great example of how small changes in specification lead to big differences in long run forecasts. Time seriesA critique of the application of unit root tests pretesting for unit roots and cointegration is a bad ideaHow big is the random walk in GNP? lessons in not using short run dynamics to infer long run properties. Permanent and transitory components of GNP and stock prices a favorite of cointegration really helps on long run propertiesTime series for macroeconomics and finance notes that never quite became a book. Explains VARs and responses.
Issue 48.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1989. ; R~,vw:w voR R~:I,~cIous (ISSN 0034-639X) is published hi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Eduealional Inslilule of the Society of Jesus; Editorial Office; 3601 Lindell Blvd., Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid al St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 per year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add U.S. $5.00 per year; for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Ri~v~i~w t:oR R~:,ucous; P.O. Box 6070; Dululh, MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:v~:w voR R~:,.~(aot;s; P.O. Box 6070; Dululh, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard .A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors JulylAugust 1989 Volume 48 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rv:v~:w voa R~:u{:lot~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v,v:w vo~ R~:uctous; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service fl~r the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society fl~r the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS . Religious life in no way merits the descriptive word dull. Currently conferences, workshops, and books deal with the theme of "refounding religious life." Another approach looks more towards a "creating of re-ligious life," often with the addition of "for the 21st century." Along with the recent publication of Pope John Paul II's letter to the United States bishops responding to the findings of the 1983 papal commission study of religious life in this country, we find ourselves confronted with various challenges which indicate that religious life remains a valuable concern not only for those who are dedicated to this special form of Chris-tian living, but also for those who support it and are the collaborators and recipients of its service. Religious life takes on its many different forms as a response by those people to God's call to point the way in bridging anew the gap be-tween the lived values of Gospel and culture. Any particular grouping of religious challenge the rest of the Church peoples (including other re-ligious) to a continuing conversion call in one or other aspect of their Christian living. Religious frequently make uncomfortable the govern-ing and teaching authority as well as their own benefactors and friends by their witness and service in those very areas where the Church may b~ slipping into more secular values and ways of acting than gospel val-ues and gospel acting. It is not surprising that religious have been in the forefront of the liberation theology and base-community movement in Latin America. The charism or grac~ which identifies the special call to a particular religious grouping often attracts some kind of participation by both di-ocesan priests and laity. The Third Orders of some of the older religious institutes and the sodalities of some of the more modern apostolic oiders are examples of a long-standing tradition of affiliation. Today there are many more questions about various ways of belonging within the relig-ious grouping--often referred to as "memberships" in the religious fam-ily. Sister Maryanne Stevens, R.S.M., raises some of these issues in her article, "The Shifting Order of Religious Life in Our Church." We are still in the early stages of this new focusing of collaboration in life and in ministry, and there are difficulties and obscurities still to be resolved. We will continue to find it necessary to clarify the identity and responsi-bilities for members dedicated in a specially graced form of life from 481 41~2 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 other parties with different vocations and yet somehow drawn by grace to a similar model of discipleship. As part of the special spiritual legacy which monastic life, particu-larly in its more contemplative form, has been to the Church, this spe-cial form of religious life may have its own contribution to offer in terms of ecumenical efforts. Fr. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., opens up some possible ways of considering this question in his article, "Monasticism: A Place of Deeper Unity~" The AIDS crisis predictably draws forth a religious life response since it presents a special need calling for a gospel ministry. Robert Sirico, C.S.P., calls us to reflect upon our own reactions of fear and stigma concerning those with AIDS .within our own religio.us groupings as well as those AIDS patients whom we intend to serve. The issue of confidentiality is a particularly sensitive point both in our religious com-munity life and in our ministry. His article, "An Improbable Fiction?: Religious Life Confronts the AIDS Crisis," was originally printed in the October 1988 In-formation, the bulletin of the Religious Formation Con-ference. Re!igious life, with all its graced attempts to respon~l to gaps between the Gospel and culture, today finds itself, along with the wider Church and with the contemporary world, caught in the gap itself. As a result, the questions and issues will necessarily have only tentative and at-tempted responses while the Church and our world remain in this in-between time. Reflecting this kind of ongoing response, in FORUM we publish two recent letters from Father Stephen Tutas, S.Mo, president of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, to its members. All of us continue to need prisms through which we might more quickly catch the movements and fleeting images of God's grace alive in our everyday religious life world. Each time we come to see a new aspect or see in new ways, we face the personal challenge of reinte-grating the truth of our lives, our relationships, and our work. May some of our writers in the articles in this issue be those prisms for us. David L. Fleming, S.J. Reproducing the Pattern of His Death John McKinnon, S.T.D. Father John McKinnon is a priest of the Diocese of Ballarat in Victoria, Australia where he is currently the Vicar for Religious. He works extensively with the various Ministry to Priests Programs and has played a pioneering role in the development of lay spirituality in Australia. His address is the Center for Human Development; 24 Custance St.; Farrer, A.C.T. 2607; Australia. ]n speaking about spirituality, I think that we Often tend to focus immedi-ately on the various ways by which we may seek to foster it--prayer, reflective ministry, and so forth--rather than on what it is we are seek-ing. Spirituality to me speaks of the way we look at life and respond to it. It is the assessment and response that we draw from the level of our own spirit, from that inner point of our self, that is closest to God. It is made up of the values, beliefs, convictions, insights, and so forth, ab-sorbed and developed over the years, which enable us to give meaning and pattern to the myriad experiences of life, and on which we base our deliberate choices. Basic Attitudes for Christian Spirituality For us as Christians these values, beliefs, convictions, and so forth are powerfully affected by our faith in tl~e person of Jesus and our'con-tact with him. This faith in Jesus and contact with him need to be per-sonalized and deepened through time spent intimately with him in prayer. The truth of any person is leai'nt most deeply only by opening to that per-son in love. Friendship is built on time spent together; it is expressed and nourished in devoted action. And it seems to me that both are equally indispensable. In his Epistle to the Philippians, in a very intimate and personally revealing passage, Paul writes about himself: 483 tlS~l / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 All I want is to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and to share his sufferings by reproducing the pattern of his death. In this way I can hope to take my place in the resurrection of the dead (Ph 3:10- ~). In writing this he was merely outlining his own response to the invi-tation of Jesus, recorded in Mark's gospel: "If anyone wants to be a fol-lower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and fol-low me" (Mk 8:34). Paul wanted to follow Jesus into the triumph of his resurrection, but he clearly realized that following Jesus meant firstly shar-ing his sufferings by reproducing the pattern of his death. The motivation for Paul's choice to follow Jesus was based on his knowledge of Jesus. Knowledge. in the Hebrew mind was not an aca-demic "knowledge about," but an enfleshed knowledge made possible only by love. I would think that only in this "love-knowledge" rela-tionship could any of us find the inspiration to face life as Jesus faced death, and to run the risk of "losing our life in order to find it," sus-tained only by trust in Jesus and the subtle intuition that in that way we might in fact find our life and live it to the full. Paul's comment in Philippians 3:10-11 seems to sum up for me the essential features of any disciple's looking at life and responding to it. It sums up the authentic Christian spirituality. Indeed, the pattern of Je-sus' death reveals the deepest dimensions of Jesus' own spirituality. I presume that Paul was not a masochist, and that Jesus was not in-viting his disciples to suicide. Jesus loved life. There is a sense in which we can say that in his moments of dying Jesus was never more truly alive and, indeed, living life to the full, at a depth and with an intensity that he had never had to muster before. The conclusion drawn by the centu-rion in Mark's gospel, who had known Jesus only in his dying moments, is also very revealing. Mark writes: The centurion, who was standing in front of him, had seen how he had died, and he said, 'In truth this man was a son of God'(Mk 15:39). In wanting to reproduce the pattern of Jesus' death, Paul was paradoxi-cally expressing his own desire to live life to the full. The Source of Salvation The Epistle to the Hebrews (5:9) says that Jesus "became for all who obey him the source of eternal salvation." We open ourselves to salvation as we in turn obey Jesus, as we attune our hearts to his, and through his to the Father's. It becomes ours, therefore, as we plumb the Reproducing the Pattern of His Death truth, as we accept the dignity and worth of every other human person, and as we commit ourselves to that dignity totally. That is why St. Paul dan write in his Epistle to the Philippians that he wants "to reproduce the pattern of Jesus' death." He sees that sim-ply as the way to become fully alive, and eventually "to take his place (with Jesus) in the resurrection from the dead." To obey Jesus and to find salvation mean to reproduce the pattern of his death, or, as the gos-pels put it, to take up our cross and to'follow him. What does this involve, then, for us? It means that we commit ourselves, too, to the vision and the priori-ties of Jesus; that, like Jesus, we let life touch us; that we respond to these temptations in the same way that Jesus responded to his. Our spiri-tuality is to be modeled on the spirituality of Jesus, on his values, be-liefs, and resources. Sharing His Sufferings No one can,be protected from the vicissitudes .of life. We do, how-ever, have some control over the nature of the inner suffering consequent upon these vicissitudes. In the face of the evil of the world we can choose our response. W.e can choose the inner suffering of absurdity and despair, of the sterile meaninglessness of a world without God, of the superficial and unsatisfying logic of the short-term, of the poisoning and paralyzing choice of bitterness and the refusal to forgive. We can face life with no hope and look on everyone as beyond redemption and on the world as condemned to an unchanging sameness. The other alternative is to taste the suffering involved in living the consequences of our own integrity with its seeming powerlessness; the feelings of irrelevance and nonserise involved in trusting a God who, we believe, makes sense of the meaningless sometimes only in the long-term; the dying-to-self ,involved in forgiving and the price of the perse-verance involved in pouring oneself out for others, trusting against hope that they may one day change and be converted. When St. Paul prayed to share the sufferings of Jesus, he was pray-ing that his sufferings would be those involved in the second alternative. Those were the sufferings of the dying Jesus. Those sufferings were the way to life. Context of Commitment It is the context of our life that gives flesh to the living out of our spirituality. I would like briefly to allude to a few consequences of this 4~16 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 spirituality of Christ as it touches the lives of all involved in active min-istry, priests, religious and laity. To some extent we can shield ourselves from the difficulties of life by choosing not to love. That, however, would be to betray our call to discipleship. The source of Jesus' experience of failure was his commit-ment to love. Luke makes this point quite clearly in his final prelude to the public life of Jesus, the meeting at Nazareth of Jesus and his fellow townspeople. There Jesus declared his manifesto in the words of Isaiah: The spirit of the Lord has been giv~en to me, for he has anointed me. He has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives, and to the blind new sight, to set the downtrodden free, to proclaim the Lord's year of favor (Lk 4:18); and it was there that he was violently rejected by the former companions of his childhood. The starting point of our imitation of Christ is a~commitment to depth in ourselves and to share with others the wonderful good news of God's love for all, and consequently to allow our own liberation to grow, to share in the liberation of others, and to work together for justice and free-dom for them. The Call 1. Being Authentic The choice to be authentic means firstly that, like Jesus, we accept and respect both the wonderful dignity of our human nature and at the same time its limitations. It means that we accept the' fact that to be human is to grow. To re-fuse to grqw is to be untrue to the thirst for life and fullness imprinted on our nature by our creating Father. But growth is painful. It is some-times easier to refuse to grow and to change, to opt instead for the fa-miliar and the unchallenging, even to obstruct and to attack change both in ourselves and in the institutions that we make up. Integrity means that we make peace with gradualness and that we re-spect the laws of sequential growth in ourselves and in others. It means that we accept the need for performance and ambition in the establish-ing of our own sense of identity, and it equally means that we be pre-pared to relinquish in time our reliance on performance in order to sur- Reproducing the Pattern of His Death / 487 render to the risk of intimacy, of forgiveness, and of grace. Eventually it means that we move to the even broader task of universal love and of generativity. Each of these transitions can be painful, and the tempta-tions to stay as we are, to secure our own comfort and peace, are strong. We do so, however, at the price of our integrity and the call of our cre-ating and redeeming God who sent. Jesus that we might live life to the full. Being authentically human means that we need to make peace even with our weakness. We have some strengths, but we do not have them all. What we admire in others is often beyond our own reach, and vice versa. We cannot do everything. None of us is "superman." We live, for example, in a day that has only twenty-four hours and not twenty-eight. We are not called to do whatever is good, but to discern what God is asking of us, to do no more than that, and to surrender the rest. Jesus had to choose between consolidating where he was, or going "to the neighboring country towns, so that I can preach there, too" (Mk 1:38)-- he could not do both. With time the very process of aging brings us in touch With new weakness and limitation. Eventually we have to make peace even with our sin. At the price of our sense of self-reliance we have to surrender to the need for forgive-ness and of mercy. In doing so we find our true dignity, and learn to re-spect ourselves because we are loved by God. A further consequence of the choice for discipleship is that we com-mit ourselves to follow our own duly informed and educated conscience. Jesus allowed himself to be led by the Spirit. It is so easy to avoid fac-ing truth and its .consequences and to persuade ourselves that what we are really doing from fear of the opinion of others or from a concern for our own comfort is being done for the sake of pastoral flexibility or main-taining peace or some other equally inadequate.excuse. And yet, at the same time, we also have to recognize that often we are not sure what our conscience is asking of us, and we have to live in uncertainty. Basically the commitment we make to ministry is a commitment to love. We know that love is the only kind of power that can ultimately give life and bring freedom. The commitment to love immediately rules out the possibility of using other kinds of power, all other kinds of power, even ostensibly for the good of people. It applies across'the board, within the Church as well as in the broader world outside. It pre-cludes manipulation, coercion, persuasion. It is notoriously ineffective. It raises whole issues of the interrelationship of institution and individ-ual person, because institutions made up of imperfectly converted and 41~1~ / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 motivated people necessarily require some kind ofsanctions. It requires clear perceptions of priorities; and the constant readiness to change and to repent, because our ongoing experience and reflection reveal that we do not consistently discernpriorities clearly and choose appropriately. The commitment to love also involves a commitment to non-violence (which is not the same as non-resistance to evil). It is the un-willingness to counter violence with violence; it is the choice to over-whelm evil with love, rather, than to double it by retaliating. Non-violent resistance sometimes calls for total self-sacrifice; more often it means apparent ineffectiveness. There are plenty of champions of jus-tice who are prepared to seek it~with violence. That was not Jesus' way. His non-violence made him unpopular, no. doubt, to the Zealots, the "ur-ban guerillas" of his day; it makes his followers equally unpopular in our day. It is~also ineffective. It ensured the inevitability of Jesus' arrest when he was apprehended in Gethsemane, but also elicited his strict cen-sure there of the violent response of one of his followers (Mt 26:52-54). It makes sense only in a world where God is the basis of meaning. It means that we may have to leave free, to go their own way, even to walk into disaster, those whom we love or for whom we have respon-sibility. That was the experience of Jesus. He had to let his ow.n special friends, hi's own diSciples, walk unheedingly into unfaith. He could not, and would not ev.en if he could, live their lives for them. He could not, would not, make their decisions for them. He had to let them_, grow up. Handing them over into the loving hands of his Father did not help all that much. He had learnt the requirements of love precisely from that same Father. As far as the Gospels are concerned, Judas did not come back. On the other hand, the Peter whom he had to leave to walk into utter perplexity and loss of faith did grow up and was a wiser and greater man. We follow the same paths as Jesus. The choice to love makes us notoriously vulnerable. Where our way of life is one that involves our working closely with others, an option for love may mean at times all the pain and frustration of working for consensus. The democratic vote can sometimes simply mean the coercive imposition on the minority of the will of the major-ity. At times it may be appropriate. Often it is not. An honest commit-ment to consensus will mean for many the readiness to devote the time and effort needed to develop the necessary skills of listening, assertion, and negotiation. We need to face the temptation to ineffectiveness, at times even to irrelevance, the jibes of naivete and so forth, and, like Jesus, explore the Reproducing the Pattern of His Death depth of our own authenticity, listen to his heart and to the heart of our creating Father. We need to listen to our own hearts, and somehow trust that integrity, truth, and love make sense, the only sense, and that our God is a God of the long-term, and not of efficient and immediate re-sults. 2. Forgiving We are familiar with the temptations to bitterness and to unforgi-veness. Not only is our world polarized; in some ways, too, our Church is also. Forgiveness is a decision. It is a decision that has consequences. When we decide to forgive, we surrender our right to use the memory of the wrongs again, either for our own self-pity or to store up and accu-mulate them in order to attack again whoever has hurt us. In a situation of ongoing disagreement or.difference, forgiveness in-volves a commitment to seek whatever common ground there is and to work for reconciliation and even at times for consensus. It involves the need to move beyond the words or the positions we may have adopted to listen to our own hearts and to the hearts of those with whom we dis-agree. It is a consequence of choosing the spirituality of Jesus. It leads to life and to peace, but it has its price. ~Forgiveness can seem like the surrender of our own dignity and self-respect, or of our loyalty to our friends and respect for them. 3. Committed . Perhaps our greatest temptation is to lose hope in people. We get hurt through life. We lose o~ur enthusiasm, even our courage. We try some things and our efforts are rejected. We know the temptation to cut our losses: we do our job; we do what is expected of us. But we lose our com-mitment, and we do little or no more than seems necessary. It is difficult to keep pouring out our lives, to keep working enthusi-astically or to try to introduce innovations only to be met with little or no response. It is easier to settle down, to look after ourselves, to make life comfortable to lose hope. But to lose hope is tochoose against life. Jesus faced blankness, in-difference, rejection, mockery, and blasphemy. In the face of that he chose to pour out his life "for the many." He knew the temptation, but he also listened to his own depths and to the heart of his Father. He died still hoping against hope in people. And for many his hope and his com-mitment bore fruit. There is in the depths of every human person an open-ing towards truth and a connaturality with love. Jesus believed that. He saw it in himself. He wanted to set it free in everyone. He would never 490/Review for Religious, July-August 1989 give up hope in people's changing and being converted; he would go to death for the sake of that hope. A truly Christ-based spirituality calls for a commitment in 'hope to people. The Outcome Our active ministry and lifestyle, therefore, whether we be priests, religious or laity, present us with infinitely nuanced temptations tO,work other than in love--to compi:omise and to find our way around our con-sciences, to choose :power in one or other of its many forms, to lose pa-tience with the apparent ineffectiveness of non-violence and love, to avoid the risk of intimacy and to settle instead for subst.itutes. We lose confidence in our God who gives meaning, sometimes too late and only beyond the grave, to our striving, for integrity and authenticity, and we prefer more tangible results and accountable successes, even at the price of what we know we are really called to be. We know we can give lip- ~service to forgiveness but not have the energy.to follow up its conse-quences. We feel the enticing attraction to settle down, to make life com-fortable, to. be "realistic." It is by facing these temptations, recognizing them and naming them, and then by choosing instead to be authentic, to trust, to forgive, and to hope that we work out our salvation and come to savor that life in abun-dance that Jesus wishes to share with us. As we respond to life as Jesus did, we know his peace and his joy, and we get in touch with the "blessedness" he spoke about in the be-atitudes. There is ai~ irrepressible quality to these experiences. We do not have to force 6urseives to find them. They come of themselves. They do not depend on circumstances beyond our control, and require no "fly-ing- carpet" ride through life. Like Jesus who could thank his Father even on the night he was betrayed, like Paul who could write: ". as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so, through Christ, does our conso-lation overflow" (2 Co 1:5), we, too, find the unexpected presence and power of peace and joy within us. Even in the very moments of our "re-producing the pattern of his death," we "know Christ and the power of his resurrection" (Ph 3: 10). It might seem to be paradox, but our ex-perience knows it to be truth. The victory that Jesus has won over evil, and in Which we share, is not a victory in which everything has been done already for us. The vic-tory won for us by Jesus means that we now have within us the resources to face whatever comes and to. triumph in love. It is a victory in which we actively participate, and through-which, precisely by our own par- Reproducing the Pattern of His Death / 491 ticipation, we ourselves become more fully alive and more authentically human. No one can do that for us, not even Jesus. But he does do it with us as we allow his Spirit scope to breathe within us. Mission to the World A~ccording tO John's gospel, on the night of his resurrection Jesus ap-peared,~ to his disciples and commissioned them to do what he had done: As the Father sent me, so I am sending you (Jn 20:21). Jesus had been sent to engage with evil and to overwhelm it with truth ~r~ love. He showed the way to us. The Epistle to the Hebrews writes: As it was his purpose to bring a great many of his sons into glory, it was appropriate that God . . . should make perfect, through suffering, the leader who would take them to their salvation (Heb 2: 10). The same Epistle consequently recommends: Let us not lose sight of Jesus, who leads us in our faith and brings it t6 perf6ction (Heb 12:2i. We follow the path that Jesus has trodden. He has commissioned us to show the same way, to others. That is our mission: we show the way, and we show it by living it ourselves. We cannot live the lives of others for them, any more than Jesus could live ours. But we can show them and, by our love, we can empower them, as Jesus has done with us. Though we might all feel embarrassed to say so, really our mission to others must be summed up in the words of St. Paul, "My brothers, be united in following my rule of life" (Ph 3:i7), or, more succinctly, "Take me for your model, as I take Christ" (1 Co I1:1). Like Peter we would all like to follow in the footsteps of a popularly acclaimed and universally accepted Christ. But there is no such Christ. Like the two sons of Zebedee, we would like to share in a victory where struggle is not necessary. But there is no such victory. Jesus has won the victory, but it was won on the wood of the cross. We share in his vic-tory, but we do it as we drink his cup and are baptized with his baptism (see Mk 10:35-40). As with the mission of Jesus, so, too, then, with our own: the suc-cess of our ministry will be counted not by the numbers of those who may listen to us or cooperated in our projects but in the ones who are encouraged by our example and empowered by our love to engage with the evil in their own breasts and meet it in love. It will be found in those 492 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 who allow the failures of their lives and of their relationships and the .fail-ure of their projects to touch them, and who feel the consequences of those failures, but choose, whether wearily or resolutely, to continue to reach out lovingly in trust, in forgiveness, and in hope. Jesus' message really is one of love, of peace, ofjgy, and of happi-ness- but not as the world understands and gives them. His message is one of victory, but of victory through the Cross, even for his followers. They have to engage with life and they have to let life touch them. It will hurt, not because God wants it that way, but because of the sin of the world and the mutual destructiveness in which it takes shape. This sin of the world can be overwhelmed. Jesus has made it possible. But where it touches people, there people have to engage with it. Conclusion A truly Christian spirituality is one that responds to life as Jesus did. That is the only Christian spirituality. "All I want is to know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and to share his suffering by repro-ducing the pattern of his death. In this way I can hope to take my place in the resurrection of the dead." As we treasure our experience and pon-der it in our hearts, as Mary did, I believe that our pondering can fruit-fully be done only by relating it to the pattern of his death. Other values and~insights will modify many forms of this basic Chris-tian spirituality; various lifestyles will determine the concrete shapes that it takes; and wisdom and experience will dictatehow best to ponder and to get in touch with those spiritual depths of Jesus. But all must be based firmly on him or they will fall short of salvation. And he wants so much that we share hig experience of life and taste that life "to the full!" Work and Leisure: Our Judeo- Christian Foundations Melannie. Svoboda, S.N.D. Sister Melannie Svoboda, S.N.D., is currently dividing her time between teaching and writing. She recently completed six years as novice director. Her address is Notre Dame Academy; Route one, Box 197; Middleburg, Virginia 22117. Recently I was asked to give a workshop on leisure and spirituality. As part of my research, I looked in the Reader's Guide to Catholic Periodi-cals to see what already had been written on the topic within the past few years. When I looked up the word leisure I was surprised to find very few articles listed under it, but I noticed, there were many articles under Lent. I looked up the word play and found even fewer articles under play, but there were many under Plato, and planned parenthood. Next I tried the word celebration. I found several articles under celebration but many more under celibacy, cemeteries, and censorship. Finally, I looked up the word fun. I found no :articles under fun, but plenty under fund raising, fundamentalism,, and funerals. This experience made me realize how little has been written on the topic of leisure and other related topics which, I feel, are fundamental to our Christian faith. This article will discuss the Judeo-Christian un-derstanding of leisure. It will begin with an exploration of the biblical understanding of the nature of work. Then it will look at the tradition of the Sabbath, the great 'leisure day,' and show how a balancing of work and leisure is essential to a healthy Christian spirituality. Let us turn first to the book of Genesis. What does Genesis tell us about work? It tells us many things. First, it says something extremely significant: God works. This concept of, a working God was something of an oddity among the peoples of that time period. Many other civiliza- 493 494 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 tions envisioned their gods as beings who did not work. Their gods lei-surely romped around on mountain tops or lay around sleeping all day. But the Hebrews, based on their unique experience of God, saw their God differently. At the beginning of Genesis they posted a large orange sign with big black letters on it: Go~)AT WORK. But Genesis tells us something even more revelatory than the fact that God works. It tells us why God works. He works not because he has to work; he works because he wants to work. His work, creation, is not for his sake; his work is for others' sake, for humankind's sake, for our sake. In Genesis, God chooses to work because he chooses to share some-thing of himself with someone else. So already in the opening pages of Scripture, work is seen as being intimately associated with the act of self-giving-- a self-giving for the benefit of others. A third thing we notice in the creation narrative is how God works. He seems to enjoy it! God is not portrayed as someone who hates his job or finds it mere drudgery. We do not see God complaining, for exam-ple, at the beginning of the fourth day, "Darn it! Today l've got to make those stupid birds! I'll never get them to fly--I just know it!" On the con-trary, God takes delight in the work process, pronouncing creation, the product of his labors, as "good" at the end of each day. In Genesis, we also notice that leisure or rest is an integral part of the work process. God rests not merely on the last day; he rests, he takes "time off," between each day of creation. The ending of each day brings closure to that particular day's activity. The seventh day, the Sab-bath, is just a longer rest period--an entire day of complete rest. But throughout his work, God has been taking other rests--"mini-Sab-baths"-- all along, Rest or leisure is part and parcel of the work proc-ess. Leisure, like work, must be good if God himself does it. In the creation account, Adam, like God, works. "The Lord then took the man and settled him in the garden of Eden, to cultivate and care for it" (Gn 2:15). Work is not a punishment for Adam's sin. It is one of the ways Adam is made in the image of God, A working God means a working Adam. Adam's work is a sharing in the creative activity of God. Adam's work, like God's work, consists primarily in cultivation and care. But something happens to work after the Fal!: Adam sweats and Eve had labor pains. Genesis 'seems to be saying that after their act of dis-obedience, Adam and Eve suffered some serious consequences. All work--whether bringing forth new I.ife through farming or giving birth-- would now necessarily involve fatigue, frustration, and pain. Work and Leisure / 495 In summary, then, Genesis presents some fundamental attitudes to-ward work. Work is .good--even God works. Work is an act of self-giving directed toward the good of others. It consists primarily in culti-vation and care, in the bringing forth of new life. Work should basically be a joyful activity even though it often entails fatigue and pain. Rest or leisure is good, too. It is somehow integral to the work process. Altfiough Genesis beautifully describes work and leisure, it is in Exo-dus and Deuteronomy that we learn more precisely where leisure comes from and, more importantly, what leisure is for. For the Israelites, the concept of leisure is identified with the tradi-tion of the Sabbath. This tradition is expressed explicitly in the fourth commandment: "Remember to keep holy the Sabbath Day" (Ex 20:8). The key phrase in that commandment is "keep hol~,." What exactly does "keep holy" mean? The remainder of that commandment explains what it means: "Six days you may labor and do all your work,, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord, your God" (Ex 20:9-10). The implication is that to "keep holy" means "not t.o work." But wl~y were the Israelites directed not to work on the Sabbath? The reason is found in Deuteronomy's version of the fourth command-ment. This version adds the following: Remember that you were a servant in the land of Egypt and that the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and out-stretched arm; because of this, the Lord God has commanded you to keep the Sabbath (Dt 5:15). The reason for not working is found in the words "because of this." What does the "this" refer to? It refers to the exodus--the great work of Yahweh. In other words, the Israelites were directed not to work on the Sabbath in order to take time to remember their deliverance from bond-age in Egypt by a powerful yet loving God. In his book, Confessions of a Workaholic, Wayne Oates says that the chief motive for keeping the Sabbath was gratitude to God. It is not fear of God, nor the need to hew the line of ritualistic practice. Rather it is the motive of gratitude for deliverance from slavery, grati-tude for the gift ~f freedom. ~ But the Israelites were to do more than to set aside a day on which to thank God for their freedom--as important as that is. They were to express their gratitude to God by the way they used their precious gift of freedom during all the days of the week. Just as God had used his free-dom to free the Israelites from slavery, so, too, were they to use their 496 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 freedom to free others from slavery--the slavery of ignorance, poverty, hunger, ill health, fear, old age or whatever form that slavery took. In his book, Flowers in the Desert, Demetrius Dumm, O.S.B., has written a beautiful section on the Ten Commandments. His treatment of the fourth commandment is especially relevant here. He sees the fourth commandment as a "transitional commandment"--one that comes af-ter the three commandments that are concerned with the Israelites' rela-tionship with God and one that comes before those six which govern the Israelites' relationship~with each other. The first three commandments called the Israelites to affirm the mystery of God, writes Dumm. They called the Israelites to trust in God's basic goodness, to see him not only .as powerful but as loving. The last six commandments direct the Israel-ites to affirm that same divine mystery present in every human being by the fact that he or she is created by God. Durum writes: Every creature deserves, therefore, to be respected because of its share of divine mystery. One of the most powerful tendencies of man is to eliminate mystery in his life because it cannot be controlled and thus seems threatening to him. The most natural way for man to control the mystery in :creation is through his labor. The Sabbath commandment or-ders the Israelite to interrupt his labor every seventh day as a reminder that that labor is intended by God to release the mystery in life and not crush it.2 What does all of this have to do with me personally and with my Christian faith? Maybe we can answer that question by taking a few "lei-sure moments" to reflect on these questions. What is my. attitude toward my work? Do I see it as a way of self-giving for the benefit of others, or do I view it as a drudgery or, worse yet, asia punishment? Is my work a way of earning God's love, or is it an expression of gratitude for God who loves me already? Is my work a way of serving others, or has it become my sole means of earning the esteem and respect of others? How is my work helping to free others from slavery--no matter what form that slavery might be? In my work, do I respect the divine mystery in creation and people, or is my work an attempt to control or manipulate creation and people? Have I become a slave to my work, or am I free to let go of it at times? Can I, for example, freely walk away from my work when lei-sure calls me to praye~, to relaxation, or to sleep? Have I learned the art of bringing each day.to a close, entrusting the fruits of my labor to the Lord? Do I set aside regular.time for leisure--for "mini-Sabbaths" and for longer ones? Do I use this "wasted time" to remember God's deliv- Work and Leisure / 497 erance.of me from sin, to reflect on his goodness to me, and to thank and praise him for his power and love? Can I just be with God or must I always be doing for him? Do I find the Lord both in my work and in my leisure? Do I take time to be with others, to enjoy their company, to play with them, to appreci-ate the divine mystery present in them? Or is the only time I am with others when I am working with them or for them? In conclusion, then, we have seen how a healthy balancing of work and leisure is essential for our Christian faith. In his article, "The Spiri-tual Value of Leisure," Leonard Doohan explains how work and leisure manifest our faith in God. Unlike those who profess some religions, we claim to believe that God is near to us, in us, in others, in the wonders of the world. Only in lei-sure dowe prove this belief by giving time to developing attitudes nec-essary to meet him. We also believe we can experience God personally and in community, but does our faith show this to others in the life we live? Are we "working" tourists who look at everything and see noth-ing, or do we pause, appreciate, wonder, and praise God who, we be-lieve, reveals himself in creation? It is not by work that we earn salva-tion, but in leisure that we appreciate that it is gift. Leisure is the cor-rective that puts work in perspective and shows forth our faith.3 NOTES ~ Wayne E. Oates, .Confessions of a Workaholic: The Facts about Work Addiction (Nashville: Abingdon, 1971), p. 35. 2 Demetrius Dumm, O.S.B., Flowers in the Desert: A Spirituality of the Bible (New York: Paulist, 1987), pp. 14-15. 3 Leonard Do6han, "The Spiritual Value of Leisure," Spirituality Today, 31 (June 1979), p. 164, Positive Wellness: Horizon for Religious Experience Jerome A. Cusumano, S.J. Father Jerry Cusumano, S.J., is a member of the Japanese Province of the Society of Jesus. He is currently engaged in studies at Arizona State University. His address is B:'ophy College Prep; 4701 N. Central: Phoenix, Arizona 85012. In this article I show how the integrated approach to health as exemplified in the holistic health movement can serve as a vehicle for opening a per-son's consciousness to the religious dimension of life. Since the goal of holistic health is "positive wellness," it is meant for those in good health who wish to achieve even better health, those who, in other words, are no longer focused on the negative problems of health such as giving up smoking, controlling drinking, losing weight, and so on. Holistic health encompasses at least the following four dimeffsions: nu-trition, exercise, awareness, and lifestyle. Since numerous self-help books as well as much scholarly research have more than adequately ex-plicated what is essential to each particular dimension, I do not intend to repeat here what has been better said elsewhere. However, I will briefly summarize what seems to be generally accepted in each area in order to establish a basis for the reflections which follow. 1 will treat the four basic factors in ascending order of importance. Nutrition Quantitatively, one should systematically "under-eat" in such a way as to maintain his body weight at the level it was when physical growth was completed, usually about the age of twenty. Qualitatively, one's diet should be based primarily on whole grains, raw vegetables, and fresh fruit. The diet should be, in yogic terms, sattvic, that is, nei- 498 Positive Wellness / 499 ther making the body sluggish nor stimulating it, but rather leaving it en-ergized and calm at the same time. Since one needs energy for exercise and calmness for awareness, a sattvic diet disposes the body properly for the next two dimensions of holistic health. Exercise Good food will not be adequately assimilated if the blood and oxy-gen circulation of the body are poor; conversely, a body kept in good condition will be healthy even on a poorer diet. Thus exercise is more important than nutrition for positive wellness. One needs to do some form of stretching exercises every day in order to maintain flexibility and alignment in the musculo-skeletal frame. What is gained during exercise times should be maintained at other times by sitting and standing in pos-tures which keep the shoulders and pelvis in line and the back straight. One also needs some form of daily aerobic exercise done for at least twenty minutes a session in order to revitalize and refresh the cardiovas-cular and respiratory systems by increasing the oxygen supply in the blood. The amount of time one devotes to exercise serves as a good gauge of one's desire for positive wellness. Nevertheless, even exercise is of less importance for positive wellness than the next dimension, aware-heSS. Awareness A period of at least twenty minutes a day should be devoted to some method of systematic awareness in the form of relaxation or meditation. The possibilities range over the spectrum from Feldenkrais's body aware-ness exercises or Jacobson's progressive relaxation method done in the prone, position, through the measured movements of Tai Chi done stand, ing and walking, to the one-pointed focusing of zazen or yoga done in the more demanding postures such as the full lotus. ~ Turning one's con-scious powers in on oneself while in slow m6vement and/or remaining still for a good length of time not only revitalizes the conscious mind and relaxes the body, but also provides a place where unconscious material, such as negative emotions, can .surface and be disposed of through aware-ness. While aerobic exercise refreshes one through an expenditure of en-ergy, in awareness one gathers his energy, concentrates it, and so re-charges himself. Furthermore, while it is possible to both eat well and exercise enough, and yet still lead a harried life, this is not possible for one who wishes to practice awareness regularly. The daily period set aside for purposefully quieting both body and mind through awareness presupposes a lifestyle conducive to such an activity. Thus awareness is 500 I Review for Religious, July-August 1989 both the support of and the fruit of an ordered lifestyle which is the fourth and most important dimension for positive wellness. Lifestyle In proportion as a stressful lifestyle has deleterious effects on the physical and psychical organism, so also a relaxed lifestyle is the single most important factor in promoting positive wellness. Such a lifestyle in-cludes a job ohe feels satisfied with and sees as worthwhile, as well as a personal life that has sufficient rest, satisfying human relationships, and some absorbing interests. Requisite to such a lifestyle, however, is a I . clear conception of the purpose of one's life, which serves as an implicit criterion by which one can judge which activities are to be undertaken and which relationsh.ips fostered. With a relaxed lifestyle and a clear pur-pose in life a man may reach a state of positive wellness even though he does not scrupulously follow all the directives with regard to nutri-tion, exercise, and awareness. Actually, a clear grasp of the purpose of one's life gives a meaning to striving for positive wellness. "Maintain-ing good physical and mental health is like preserving two fine instru-ments which can be used to carry out the purpose of life . Thus it is clear that the basis of holistic health lies in one's understanding the purpose of his life and learning how to achieve that purpose."2 Religious Experience The state of positive wellness, achieved and maintained by the inte-grated approach of the holistic health movement as summarized above, can dispose one to be more receptive to the transcendental and religious dimension of life. One becomes accustomed to an habitual state of vigor, energy, and wellness which hecan no longer do without. To use Glas-ser's term, one has developed a positive addiction to health itself. This addiction to positive wellness has its source in the good feelings gener-ated through the "spiritualization" of one's body by the increased vi-tality attained through conscious effort and the "physicalization" of one's mind by the greater calmness achieved through attention to bodily processes. At peak moments this dual action issues into a harmony which Glasser call the PA (positive addiction) state. "In the PA state the mind flows with the body. The two cease completely to be antagonistic to each other and blend into one. The state of positive addiction to health is experienced as a drive from within oneself, but not an instinctual drive such as that for sex, nor as a drive stemming from the force of one's will. One feels that he has tapped into another force which is now pulling him to higher levels of Positive Wellness health. Yoga terminology calls this force the Self as opposed to the self. However, it might just as well be conceived in terms of health itself. The healthier one becomes, the more he makes contact with the body's own innate drive to good health and experiences the power of that drive. He gradually opens his consciousness to the life force within him and allows it to work of itself. The healthier one becomes, the more he can tap into this life force. Paradoxically, this means that one becomes a "spiritual" person not by ignoring the body in the pursuit of higher interest, but rather by infusing the body with spirit, that is, by directing one's consciousness to the health of the body in such a way as to energize it as fully as possible. As a result one becomes a more suitable vehicle to channel the energy of life within himself and to others. "As you continue to develop your channels of energy, you will notice differences in your entire being, and these will likewise be observed by those around you, who also benefit from the increase in energy flow."4 Energizing the body through sustained, systematic daily care of one's health puts one into contact with a Life greater than one's own. It is this Life, more than individual will power, which makes possible the main-tenance of a sane lifestyle and consistent attention to nutrition, exercise, and awareness demanded for positive wellness. For some this may be the first step to recognition of transcendent being. For others it may be a preparation through a new experience of satisfaction from taking respon-sibility for one's life. As Bloomfield says, "There is joy in taking full responsibility for your health and happiness.''5 Children at play, fully alive and vibrant, exemplify the joy he speaks of. Theirs is a joy spring-ing from the flexibility and agility of their bodies as well as from the care-free state of mind in which they live. Paradoxically, Ardell notes, it is only as one grows older that he can fully enjoy youth.6 Conclusion If pursued within the holistic health framework the current quest of many for youthfulness and positive wellness can become the occasion for opening oneself to transcendent and religious experience. For positive wellness makes one aware of the source of Life itself. NOTES ~ M. Feldenkrais, Awareness Through Movement, (New York: Harper and Row, 1972), E. Jacobson, You Must Relax, (London: Unwin Paperbacks, 1980). 2 S. Rama, A Practical Guide to Holistic Health, (Honesdale, Pennsylvania: The 50~. / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 Himalayan Publishers, 1980), p. 13. 3 W. Glasser, Positive Addiction, (New York: Harper and Row, 1976), p. 56. '~ R. Shames, The Gift of Health, (New York: Bantam Books, 1982), p. 140. 5 H. Bloomfield, The Holistic Way to Health and Happiness, (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1978), p. 274. 6 D. Ardell, High Level Wellness, (New York: Bantam Books, 1981), p. 67. Full Circle Morning did come! Rise with the full-day Sun! Work begun. Thy Will be done! Day half-spent, Rest in the noonday Sun! Renewed, refre~shed--run! Day-work, toil done. Daystar, noon, setting Sun. Rest! Be still! Tomorrows come . . . maybe? Glory be! Walter Bunofsky, S.V.D. 1446 E. Warne Avenue St. Louis, Missouri 63107 Striving for Spiritual Maturity: Ideals as Obstacles Wilkie Au, S.J. Father Wilkie Au, S.J., has been working in psychological counseling and spiritual direction. He served for six years as novice director for the Jesuit California Prov-ince. He may be addressed at Loyola Marymount College; Jesuit Community; P.O. Box 45041; Los Angeles, California 90045-0041. The metaphor of a journey captures well what most adults come sooner or later to realize about spiritual and psychological growth: it is a never-ending series of changes and struggles. In a word, it is a hard road to travel. It is tied to the ways we respond to the crises of human life. These crises are both predictable and unpredictable. The predictable ones have been outlined in the literature of deve!opmental psychology, which de-picts the pattern of adult growth, not as an undisturbed straight line, but as a zigzag process often full of setbacks and frustrations. The unpre-dictable crises are easily recognized: sudden illnesses, career disappoint-ments, interpersonal misunderstandings, the loneliness of ruptured rela-tionships, the separation of death or divorce. When faced with the strug-gles that are the inescapable conditions of growth, people frequently ask themselves: "Why go on? Why keep trying, if there is no chance of suc-cess? What difference does it make any way?" The frustrations of seem-ingly endless change--new jobs, new residences, new relationships-- force many to question whether it is worth all the effort. These are nei-ther theoretical nor abstract questions. They emerge from the concrete experience of striving to grow in holiness and wholeness. These quan-daries frame the struggle to love as Jesus commanded. An effective spirituality today must strengthen the individual's com-mitment to the ongoing process of sanctification and maturation. It must 503 ~i04/Review for Religious, July-August 1989 do this by reminding us that God is always close by with divine love and power to help us in our struggles. As followers of the risen Christ, we are called to believe that "the power.by which life is sustained and in-vited toward wholeness is no human creation and abides and remains steadfast even in a world where death does have dominion over every individual." ~ As in other human journeys, we reach the destination of our spiri-tual pilgrimage only gradually. However, there is a paradoxical nature to the spiritual sojourn. While alive, we will never fully reach our goal of union with God and others. Yet, being on the spiritual path is already a way of attaining that end. God is to be enjoyed not only at the end of the search, .but all along the way. The Christmas story of the magi illus-trates this truth. God was present to them not only when they joyfully arrived at the cave in Bethlehem, but also in the original stirrings that sent them off in search of the promised Messiah. God's presence was also experienced in a guiding star that directed them through dark nights and in a dream that warned them of Herod's threat. They experienced God's support, too, in the encouragement they gave each other through-out an uncharted search that took them miles from home. God is more present to us than we think. Our search for union with God is life-long, often a strenuous trek punctuated by dark passages. If we are to persevere, we must take cour-age in God's abiding presence all along the way. Even as we are travel-ing towards God as destiny, Emmanuel is already with us in manifold ways. The disciples of Jesus were once given a dramatic lesson about how Christ is ever-present. One day they were crossing the Lake of Gali-lee when a fierce storm enveloped their little boat. Frightened by vio-lent winds, the apostles were stricken with panic. Suddenly, Jesus ap-peared to them walking on the water. He told them, "It is I. Do not be afraid" (Jn 6:21). Jesus then calmed the storm, and the boat quickly came to shore. The significance of Jesus' words is clear when we look at the original text. The Greek has Jesus saying "ego eimi" which liter-ally means "I am." In the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Old Testament, the phrase "ego eimi" is used as a surrogate for the divine name (Ex 3:14). It is Yahweh's response to Moses' question, "Who shall I say sent me?" In placing these words in Jesus' mouth, John ex-p~' esses the early Church's belief in the divinity of Christ. The good news affirmed in this Johannine passage is identical to that contained in Mat-thew's story of the magi: God is always with us in our journeys through life. This truth must permeate our consciousness, especially when our Striving for Spiritual Maturity / 505 fragile boat is rocked by waves of worry and troublesome torrents. In our fear and confusion, we need to recognize the presence of the risen Jesus drawing near to us to still the storm. Calm will descend on us when we hear Jesus say, "Do not be afraid. It is I." Letting Go of Flawless Images ~The journey metaphor most accurately reflects reality when it is seen as a zigzag pattern i'ather than as an uninterrupted straight line. Human growth is not a process that moves relentlessly ahead in a single direc-tion. It, rather, is a mixture of progressions and regressions. At times, we experience forward movements; on other occasions, slips indicate re-gress; and sometimes, no matter how much effort we expend, we find ourselves at a standstill, seemingly stuck at a developmental plateau. Is this wrong? To the contrary. Accepting the jerky aspect of growth and relinquishing the illusion of a forever smooth-flowing journey is not only necessary but will bring serenity to our striving for maturity. Failures should not produce despair; temporary plateaus need not trigger paraly-sis. The expectation of a flawless journey is counterproductive because it misrepresents the process of developmenta~l growth. It also distorts the truth of what it means to be a human being. A view of the human person which does not acknowledge that sinfulness casts a shadow on every person is unrealistic. Such a notion can also have harmful effects. Our sinful condition renders us radically weak. In an iron'ic way, not to admit to our weakened capacity leads us to a sense of perversity and guilt rather than worthiness and self-acceptance. The refusal "to recognize the persistent ambiguity and the final impotence of our lives tantalizes us with an optimistic promise of self-evolved be-coming," concli~des theologian LeRoy Aden. It also "stands in danger of giving us a sense of failure and despair to the extent that we do not achieve it. ,.,2 Thus, failure to acknowledge the shadow aspect of human personality, diminishes, not enhances, self-esteem. Aden elaborates on the harmful effects of a naively optimistic view of human development in the context of a critique of Carl Rogers, the father of client-centered therapy and a major influence in the field of pas-toral counseling. Aden objects to a basic hypothesis of client-centered therapy: the belief that persons have within themselves the ongoing ca-pacity to reorganize their lives in the direction of maturity and fulfill-ment if the proper psychological climate is present. Concretely,. this hy-pothesis presupposes that if the counselor communicates empathy, warmth, acceptance, and genuineness, a client wil~ naturally begin to manifest behavior that enhances the true self. According to Aden, "Ro- 506 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 gers' faith in the individual's ability to choose the good is absolute. He entertains no qualifications. He allows no doubts.In fact, therapists who begin to question the hypothesis and who shift to another mode of inter-action only confuse the client and defeat their own purpose."3 Roger~ clung tenaciously to his belief in the individual's absolute ca-pacity for constructive and enhancing behavior. Aden recounts an inci-dent in Rogers' life in which he nearly destroyed his own psychic health by maintaining at all cost this article of faith. Rogers once dealt with a very disturbed woman who continually demanded more of him--more time, more warmth, more realness. Although he began to doubt his own adequacy and to lose the boundaries between himself and the client, Ro-gers was very reluctant to let go. Finally, when he realized that he was on the edge of a personal breakdown,he swiftly referred the client to a psychiatric colleague and left town for an extended period. He eventu-ally sought therapy to overcome feelings of complete inadequacy as a therapist and deep worthlessness as a person. According to Aden, this "event shows that Rogers would doubt him-self as a therapist and as a person before he would question his basic faith in the individual.''4 Rogers had provided his disturbed client ~,ith un-derstanding and acceptance over an extended period of time. Neverthe-less, she got progressively more dependent and sicker, bordering on psy-chosis. Her behavior explicitly challenged the very foundation of his the-ory. Thus, it was easier for him to doubt his own worth as a clinician than to reexamine the linchpin of his therapeutic creed. Belief in the in-dividual's indomitable capacity for ongoing growth and actualization had to be maintained at all cost. Forgiveness: The End Point of Life Carl Rogers has made many contributions to pastoral counseling, but his trust in the absolute ability of individuals to grow continually toward fulfillment is a harmful assumption for Christians. It contradicts Christi-anity's deepest insight into the human person as radically good, yet bur-dened by sinfulness. This sinful condition impedes our struggle for growth in holiness and maturity~ It often leads to imperfect fulfillment. Unlike the contemporary tendency to absolutize fulfillment as the basic truth and the final goal of human existence, Christian faith reiterates the good news proclaimed by Christ: forgiveness is the endpoint of human life. Thus faulty fulfillment and incomplete development need not worry those who trust in the forgiving love of God. In thelend, we will fully enjoy the unconditional acceptance of God, not because we are flawless, Striving for Spiritual Maturity / 507 but in spite of our imperfections. Our merciful God's gift of forgiveness means that we "cannot and need not measure up to any conditions of worth."5 When forgiveness, and not fulfillment, is seen as the endpoint of our lives, we can live with greater acceptance of our weaknesses and with greater hope in God's power to complete what grace has started. No longer will the ambiguity of our fulfillment judge us, nor the impo-tence of our efforts condemn us. With St. Paul, we are "quite certain that the One who began this good work" in us "will see that it is fin-ished when the Day of Christ Jesus comes" (Ph 1:6). As Aden states beau-tifully., the promise of ultimate forgiveness "allows us to be incomplete and yet complete, estranged and yet related, distorted and yet fulfilled." When our journey reaches its termination, we will be wrapped in God's merciful arms, like the prodigal son. Because "you are forgiven" will be the final words we will hear, we are freed from the compulsive need to actualize perfectly our human potential and are released from the guilt that accompanies falling short of that goal. "Success and failure are accidental," writes one spiritual writer. "The'joy of the Christian is never based on . . . success but on the knowledge that (one's) Redeemer lives."6 Thus, the author encour-ages us to learn to li~,e peacefully to the end of our life with a certain imperfecti6n: The Lord will never ask how successful we were in overcoming a par-ticular vice, sin, or imperfection. He will ask us, "Did you humbly and patiently accept this mystery of iniquity in your life? How did you deal with it? Did you learn from it to be patient and humble? Did it teach you to trust not your own ability but my love? Did it enable you to under-stand better the mystery of iniquity in the lives of others?' ,7 Our lack of perfection will never separate us from God because the Lord's forgiveness is always perfect and total. What to Do Until the Messiah Comes Until that day of Christ Jesus, when we will receive "the perfec-tion that comes through faith in Christ and is from God," we are called to strive for the goal without ceasing (Ph 3: 9-10). We are to imitate St. Paul in his deep yearning "to have Christ and be given a place in him" (Ph 3:9). We have not yet won, but are still running, trying to capture the prize for which Jesus captured us. We too must forget the past and strain ahead for what is still to come. We must, in Paul's words, race "for the finish, for the prize to which God calls us upward to receive in Christ Jesus" (Ph 3: 14). Review for Religious, July-August 1989 Paul's expression of the Christian goal is beautifully poetic. We must look to a contemporary spirituality, however, to translate it into real-life terms. As a guide to Christian living, a spirituality' must spell out the prac-tical dimensions of that vision. It should keep the Gospel ideals eve~r be-fore the Christian sojourner. These ideals are meant to help Christians finish the spiritu~.l race and to receive a place in Christ. They can be use-ful in our spiritual odyssey. Like the stars, they may never be reached; but they are useful to steer our lives by. Ideals can hinder us, however, and discourage us from trying when the fear of performing poorly para-lyzes us. The French saying, "The best is the enemy of the good," il-lustrates this attitude of fearfulness. Ideals impede our spiritual progress when we use them as an excuse for mediocrity, thinking to ourselves: "Christian holiness is something for saintly people, not ordinary folks like us. ". Furthermore, ideals are injurious when they lure us into think-ing that we can earn God's approval by doing everything perfectJy. Paul refers to this as seeking a perfection that comes from the Law rather than from faithin Jesus (Ph 3:9). When striving for holine~ ss deceives us int6 thinking that we can stand in pharisaical judgment over others, we have been seduced by pride. Finally, ideals are harmful when they lead to cyni-cism and disillusionment. That no one fully lives up to espoused values should not undermine the importance of having high aspirations. The fail-ure of sincere efforts should not disillusion us, but the apathy of not try-ing should appall us. Dreaming is not the same as doing. Ideals should inspire us to act, not merely to dream. Thoughts of what could be tomorrow should lead us to do what we can today. When lofty aspirations lead to romantic pre-occupation rather than realistic pursuits, they retard our spiritual devel-opment. In a letter to a friend, C. S. Lewis makes this point nicely: We read of spiritual efforts, and our imagination makes us believe that, because we enjoy the idea of doing them, we have done them. I am ap-palled to see how much of the change which I thought I had undergone lately was on!y imaginary. The real workseems still to be done. It is so fatally easy to confuse an aesthetic appreciation of the spiritual life with the life itself--to dream that you have waked, washed, and dressed and then to find yourself still in bed.8 No matter how grand our ideals, they can only be achieved through small but steady steps. As the Chinese sage Lao Tze stated centuries ago, "The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step." We must bear this wise saying in mind as we let the star of idealism lead us, as with the magi, incompanionship to the Messiah. Striving for Spiritual Maturity / 509 Activity and Passivity in Spiritual Striving Striving for spiritual maturity is paradoxical. It requires us to be si-multaneously active and passive. We are called to exert our efforts and use our God-given talents to develop ourselves. And, at the same time, we must remember that our efforts alone can never bring us to holiness and wholeness; only God's grace can effect our transformation into Christ. While we ultimately cannot save ourselves, we must neverthe-less cooperate with divine grace. We must dispose ourselves to be re-ceptive to the sanctifying action of God's touch. In our spiritual journey we have to negotiate a delicate passage between the Scylla of presump-tion and the Charybdis of despair. Presumption, according.to St. Tho-mas Aquinas, is "an unwarranted dependence upofi God."9 It is the at-titude that God will do it all and that our efforts are not important. Fos-tering irresponsible inaction, it keeps us from doing our part. Despair, on the other hand, is losing hope in God's saving power. It stems from an exclusive reliance on our efforts, without any trust in God's power to make up for Qur human limitations. It results from thinking that eve-rything depends on us alone. Only ongoing discernment can help us main-tain the right balance in our spirituality between personal effort and trust-ing reliance on God. Both dynamics are encouraged by Scripture. Many New. Testament passages attest to the need to rely on God's power in order to bear spiritual fruit in our lives. A beautiful expression of this is the Johannine image of God as the vinedresser. Jesus is the vine and we are the branches. The Father prunes us so that we might bear fruit (Jn 15: I-2). Spiritual growth is passive in the sense that purification and progress are the direct results of God's action upon us. The evangelist Mark reinforces the centrality of God's action in his parable about the seed growing by itself. This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man throws seed on the land. Night and day, while he sleeps, when he is awake, the seed is sprouting and growing; how, he does not know. Of its own accord the land pro-duces first the shoot, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. And when the crop is ready, he loses no time; he starts to reap because the harvest has come (Mk 4:26-29). Notice that the farmer's work is described with a minimum of words. The emphasis falls on the mysterious process of growth. Just as the earth produces fruit spontaneously, so God's reign comes by divine power alone. Once the seed is planted, the result is as sure, as dependable, and as silent as the forces of nature. Stage by stage--first the green shoot, then the spike of corn, and then the full grain in the ear--the seed of S10 /Review for Religious, July-August 1989 God's reign grows to harvest in a way that the farmer does not under-stand. This parable reminds us that nature (God's creation) contains a power which humans do not make or~direct. Similarly, God's grace will bring about conversion and growth in us in ways we may not understand. In human lives, the Spirit of Jesus is the divine power that brings God's kingdom from seed to harvest. When we remember that God's 'work-ing in us,.can do more than we can ask or imagine' (Ep 3:20), we will be protected from the pride and anxiety that stem from the myth of total self-sufficiency. But Scripture also stresses the importance of human effort. Luke's gospel strongly urges followers of Christ to translate words into action. "Why do you call me Lord, Lord," asks Jesus, "and not do what I say?" (Lk 6:46). Everyone who comes to me and listens to my words and acts on them ¯ . . is like the man who when he built his house dug, and dug deep, and laid the foundations on rock; when the river was in flood it bore down on that house but could not shake it, it was so well built. But the one who listens and does nothing is like the man who built his house on soil, with no foundations: as soon as the river bore down on it, it col-lapsed; and what a ruin that house became! (Lk 6:47-49). Jesus not only challenges us to practice his teachings, but also warns that our very hearing of his word must be done with care. In the parable of the sower and the seed, he describes the fragility ofthe seed of God's word. If it is not received by the right soil, it will not take root and grow. Grains that fall on the edge of the path represent people who have heard the word of God, but have it stolen from their hearts by the forces of evil. Seeds that fall on rock are like people who receive the word in a superfi-cial way, and give up in time of trial. Those that fall in the midst of thorns are Christians who let worries, riches, and pleasures of life choke their growth, preventing it from reaching maturity. Grains that fall in the rich soil signify those of generous hearts who have let the word take deep roots in themselves and have yielded a harvest through their persever-anc. e (Lk 8:11-15). Emphasizing the importance of human effort in dis-posing the soil of the inner self for receiving the word, Jesus concludes with a warning: "So take care how you hear" (Lk 8: 18). While Mark's parable of the seed growing by itself stresses the power of God actively bringing about growth, Luke's parable emphasizes the necessity of en-ergetic human cooperation. Another Lukan parable about a fruitless fig tree highlights the im-portance of personal effort. When its owner realized that his tree had Striving for Spiritual Maturity been barren for three years, he ordered his gardener to remove it. In-stead, the caretaker pleaded, "Sir, leave it one more year and give me time to dig round it and manure it: it may bear fruit next year; if not, then you can cut it down" (Lk 13:8-9). We too are called to actively tend the seed of God's word so that it can take deep roots in our souls and can bear fruit for the world. A classical biblical text used to illustrate the need for docility to God's formative action in our lives is Jeremiah's visit to the potter. Watch-ing the artisan working at his wheel, the prophet noticed that he contin-ued to shape and reshape the clay until he created what he was envision-ing. Then the word of Yahweh came to Jeremiah as follows: "House of Israel, can I not do to you what this potter does?. Yes, like clay in the potter's hand, so you are in mine, House of Israel" (Jr 18:1-6). While the image of the human person as clay being shaped by the divine Potter testifies beautifully to God's active involvement in our spiritual development, it should not be used to justify excessive passivity or in-fantile irresponsibility. While trying to be malleable to the fashioning in-fluence of God, Christians are called to take adult responsibility for their growth. This means taking active means to deepen one's love for God and neighbor. Activity and passivity must coexist in dynamic tension, if we are to remain.spir!tually healthy. In describing her Jeremiah-like visit to a pot-ter at work in Provincetown, situated at the tip of Cape Cod, a recent writer shed light on the active-passive dimension of spiritual formation. The observer discovered that the artist,, a woman-of more than seventy years, was a wise person as well as a potter. After conveying her belief in the direct relationship between the pliability of the clay and its strength, the artisan added, almost as an aside, "If you can't bend a lit-tle and give some, life will eventually break you. It's just the way it is, you know." ~0 The visitor noticed that the potter worked with both hands: one placed inside, applying pressure on the clay; the other on the out-side of the gradually forming pot,. Too much pressure from the outside would cause the pot to collapse, while too much pressure from the in-side would make the pot bulge outward. The old potter spoke wisely about life: Life, like the pot I am turning, is shaped by two sets of opposing forces ¯ . . Sadness and death and misfortune and the love of friends and all the things that happened to m~ that I didn't even choose. All of that in-fluenced my life. But there are things I believe in about myself, my faith in God, and the love of some friends that worked on the insides of me. ~ 512 / Review for Religious,. July-August 1989 Like Jeremiah, this modern day potter sheds light on the Lord's ways of dealing with us. The Lord who calls us to be holy is also the One who forms us into the image of Jesus, the living icon, of God. This divine Art-ist works on us with two hands: one shaping us from the inside and an-other molding us from the outside. Like the clay pot, we need to be mal- . leable. And, paradoxically, our pliability will give us strength to per-severe ac~tively in the process. Knowing how to bend a little will keep us from breaking. Experience as Manure in the Spiritual Field In the spiritual project of transformation into Christ, effort is what counts, not unremitting success. Acclaiming the value of practice in spiri-tual growth, the Eastern guru Chogyam Trungpa speaks of the "manure of experience and the field of bohdi." ~-~ Bohdi represents the search for enlightenment. If we are skilled and p~tient enough to sift through our experiences and study them thoroughly, we can use them to aid our en-lightenment. Our experiences, 'our mistakes, and even our failures func-tion like fertilizer. According to Trungpa, to deny or cover up our errors is a waste of experience. When we do not scrutinize our failures for the lessons they contain, we miss an opportunity. What appears to be use-less trash contains potential .nutrients for life. But, to convert our defi-ciencies into positive value, we need to pile them on a compost heap, not sweep them behind a bush. Hiding failure is to store it like rubbish. "And if you store it like that," the guru remarks, "you would not have enough manure to raise a crop from the wonderful field of bodhi.''~3 In a parallel way, experience can be said to be manure in the field of Christian development. Like manure, past experiences must be plowed into the ground to enrich the inner soil of the self, making it more re-ceptive to. the see.d of God's word. Then, we will reap an abundant har-vest base~l on our perseverance. Mistakes need not ruin our spiritual jour-ney, if we learn from them. Even saints like Augustine of Hippo and Ig-natius of Loyola learned how not to make mistakes by making many. The Lord who desires our holiness can bring good out of everything, can work in any and all of our experiences to transform us. In our fragmen-tation, we rejoice in the power of God to bring wholeness. If we bring our weakness before the Lord, humbly asking for the help of enabling grace, we can then trust that the Lord will produce an abundant harvest. Spiritual Growth Through Trial and Error The ideals of Christian spirituality cannot be achieved without im-mersing ourselves in the messiness of nitty-gritty experience. Learning Striving for Spiritual Maturity how to love God and others in an integrated way comes only through daily practice. The way of trial and error, not book learning alone, will teach us how to fashion a dynamic and balanced life in which there is room for solitude and community, ministry and leisure, autonomy and intimacy, personal transformation and social reform, prayer and play. Striking the right balance is a highly personal matter. No one can attain it for us; we must discover it ourselves through personal experience. As theologian John Dunne states, "Only one who has tried the extremes can find this personal mean., on the other hand, trying the extremes will not necessarily lead to finding the mean. Only the [person] who perceives the shortcomings of.the extremes will find it. 14 Blessings for the Journey Achieving wholeness and holiness requires traversing the difficult ter-rain of real life with all its challenges and crises. Even at the end of a lifetime of effort, we will still need to be completed by the finishin~g touch of the divine Artist. God will .then bring to completion in us the eternal design of persons destined to love wholeheartedly. While await-ing that unifying touch of divine grace, we pilgrims are called to follow the way of Jesus. And the Lord who walks with us assures that we will always be blessed. The blessings sent our way may not always be enjoy-able, but they will always nudge us forward in our efforts to love as God i'ntended. °~ A rabbi was once asked, "What is a blessing?" He prefaced his an-swer with a riddle involving the creation account in chapter one of Gene-sis. The riddle went this way: After finishing his work on each of the first five days, the Bible states, "God saw that it was good." But God is not reported to have commented on the goodness of what was created on the sixth day when the human person was fashioned. "What conclu-sion can you draw from tha~?" asked the rabbi. Someone volunteered, "We can conclude that the human person ~s not good." "Possibly," the rabbi nodded, "but that's not a likely explanation." He then went on to explain that the Hebrew word translated as "good" in Genesis is the word "tov," which is better translated as "complete." That is why, the rabbi contended, God did not declare the human person to be "toy." Human beings are created incomplete. It is our life's vocation to collabo-rate with our Creator in fulfilling the Christ-potential in each of us. As the medieval mystic Meister Eckhart suggested, Christ longs to be born and developed into fullness in each of us.~5 A blessing is anything that enters into the center of our lives and expands our capacity to be filled with Christ's love. Therefore, a blessing may not always be painless, but Review for Religious, July-August 1989 it will always bring spiritual growth. Being blessed does not mean being perfect, but being completed. To be blessed is not to get out of life what we think we want. Rather, itis the assurance that God's purifying grace is active in us, so that our "hidden self (may) grow strong" and "Christ may live in (our) hearts through faith." In this way, we will with all the saints be "filled with the utter fullness of God" (Ep 3:16-19). NOTES I Sam Keen, "Manifesto for a Dionysian Theology," in New Theology No. 7, eds. Martin E. M~irty and Dean G. Peerman (New York: Macmillan, 1970), p. 97. 2 LeRoy Aden, "On Carl Rogers" Becoming,"Theology Today XXXVI:4 (Jan. 1980), p. 558. 3 lbid, p. 557. 4 Ibid. 5 lbid, p. 558. 6 Adrian van Kaam, Religion and Personality (Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1980), p. 15. 7 lbid, p. 15. 8 C.S. Lewis, The3, Stand Together: The Letters of C.S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves (1914-1963), ed. Walter Hooper (New York: The Macmillan Co., Inc. 1979), p. 361. 9 Saint Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, Latin Text and English Translation, Introductions, Notes, Appendices, and GIossaries,~Vol. 33 (Blackfriars, with New York: McGraw-Hill and London: Eyre & Spottiswoode, 1966), II-II, Q 21, a I, ad 1. ~0 Paula Ripple, Growing Strong at Broken Places (Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Ma-ria Press, 1986), p. 68. ~ Ibid, p. 69. ~z Chogyam Trungpa, Meditation in Action (Boston: Shambhala, 1985), p. 26. ~3 Ibid. ~4 John Dunne, The Way of All the Earth (New York: MacMillan Company, 1972), pp. 37-38. ~5 Meister Eckhart once said: "What good is it to me if Mary gave birth to the son of God fourteen hund'r~ed years ago and I do not also give birth to the son of God in my time and in my culture?" As quoted in Matthew Fox, Original Blessing: A Primer in Creation Spirituality (Santa Fe, New Mexico: Bear & Company, 1983), p. 221. The Shifting Order of Religious Life in our Church Maryanne Stevens, R.S.M. Sister Maryanne Stevens, R.S.M., is currently Assistant Professor of Theology at Creighton University. She had served as formation director for the Sisters of Mercy, Province of Omaha from 1977-1982. Her address is Department of Theology; Creighton University; California at 24th Street; Omaha, Nebraska 68178. The difficulty of thinking thorough questions about religious life today should not be underestimated. Such reflection is often complicated by the fact that those straining to see and articulate what the shifts in relig-ious orders mean for their future in our Church are often themselves mem-bers Of religious congregations. Thus, the efforts to make sense of vowed living can be blindedoby both self-interests and past~ ways of understand-ing. Th6 blindness feels to me like the fuzzy sight of Mark's blind man who could see people "but they look like trees, walking" (Mk 8:24). It was only after the man "looked intently" that he was able to see ev-erything clearly. This ~article is more an attempt to describe the "tree walking" than to asser(any.de~finitive conclusions. Two circumstances in particular have sparked my own reflections on the changing order of religious life. First, we continue to have members "leaving." They do not leave in the dark of night as they did in the 1950s; rather many stand before us in assembly or community saying that their integrity prevents them from +ontinuing to live the vowed life, but they wish always to remain ""sister" or "brother" to us. Many are not immediately interested in a different lifestructure, for example, marriage, personal wealth, and so forth; rather, they are no longer able to connect celibacy, poverty, and obedience to any understanding of their life. Secondly, those within religious communities primarily vested with 515 516 / Review for Religious~ July-August 1989 the role of discerning vocations and incorporating new members are no longer called the "formation-vocation" team. They are now referred to as the "membership team." Some of these new membership teams are made up of non-vowed associates of the community~ as well as vowed members. The job description of these teams is unclear even though it includes the discernment of vocation and the incorporation of new mem-bers because vocation and membership have taken on new meanings. Vo-cation is not necessary to the "vowed" life and membership does not necessitate professing the vows. The new terminology and the alteration in the constitution of the teams are profound symbols of a "changing order." These two realities--members continuing to remain attached to con-gregations even though they "leave" and the development of "mem-bership teams"--can allow for i~ew insight into how, with decreasing numbers,,religious orders will continue the legacy of their foun~lresses or founders, women and men whose gifts have been confirmed as a vivi-fying influence in the Church and the world.2 These gifts or charisms are the animating characteristics for the style of life, witness, and apostolic action within the congregations. Membership within a congregation has meant at its most basic level that a person'believes he or she is called to re-offer the charis~m of the founder to the contemporary world. This offering is buttressed by the belief that the gifts of the founder or foun-dress are not time-bound and will continueto contribute to a further ap-proximation of the reign of God in history. Thus the Sisters of Merc~y (the "order" to which I belong) present the foundation for their exis-tence as the desire to continue the story of a nineteenth-century Irish woman, Catherine McAuley, in theChurch and in the world. This par-ticular goal is expressed by tfieir fourtti vow of gervice and through the wording of their present Constituiions which point to the ideals of their congregation as well as the way they presently understand their congre-gation and words the way they presently understand th6ir mission as a community within the Church. By the vow of service we commit ourselves to exercise the spiritual and corporal works of mercy revealed to us through~ t~,h.e life of Jesus. En-riched by his love, healed by his mercy and0taught by his word we serve the poor, sick, and ignorant. To celebrate our corporate word in a discordant society requires the courage of a deep'faith and interior joy. We believe that God is faithful and that our struggle to follow Christ will extend God's reign of love over human hearts. We rejoice in the continued invitation to seek jus- The Shifting Order of Religious Life tice, to be compassionate, and to reflect mercy to the world.3 The thesis of this article is simply that the clues for how to continue the legacy of a particular founder or foundress will be found by looking intently at how the tradition of the founder or foundress continues to be lived, seeking to confirm all those ~'ho focus their discipleship of Christ through the prism of his or her life and legacy. In order to amplify this thesis, I will discuss eight understandings that result from an attempt to "look intently," and then present several ideas intended to help the "re-ordering" of religious communities. But, first, one caveat is necessary. No matter how blind men and women religious feel as they grope toward an understanding of their .lives, they must trust that they faithfully embody the tradition of the par-ticular foundress.or founder. When I was in formation work in the 1970s, I was fond of telling the newer .members that the Sisters of Mercy were made up of the names in the current directory and the names on the tomb-stones in our cemeteries. This was the most concrete way of describing what they were getting into~companionship with persons who were char-acterized by a variety of shapes, sizes, quirks, personalities, sickness, gifts, skills, weaknesses, ideas, and so forth--but with one thing in com-mon: they all believed they were called to focus their discipleship through the story of Catherine McAuley. It seemed essential that each member act toward the other with the belief that each sister was a part of this tradition and that all were searching for what was necessitated by the call to appropriately renew the story (or tradition) in the light of the sources of Christian life, the original inspiration behind the community and the changed condition of the times.'* At that time I was pointing the novices toward the vowed members of the group, the Sisters. Now the names in our directory include asso-ciate, that is non-vowed, members who have made a contract with us in which we promise our support for their attempts to live the tradition of Catherine McAuley and they promise specific ways in which they will contribute to the offering of Catherine's gifts to the Body of Christ. There-fore, wl~ether we be Sister JaneSmith, R.S.M. or Jane Smith, Associ-ate of the Sisters of Mercy, we must believe in and support one another as we seek to embody the tradition of our foundress. Each of us brings only a part of the story, thus each person who focuses his or her disci-pleship through the same tradition helps focus the present and the future "order" of one's specific congregation. Part I The following are my understandings of religious life today: I ) Men and women in religious orders are disciples of Jesus. We be- 511~ / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 long to a pilgrim people searching for the reign of God. We are blinded by sin and limitation as we seek to discover the ways of our God as re-vealed through Jesus. We learn how to follow Jesus in our times and in our circumstances. The primary mode of ou'r learning is experiential. It is complex and it calls us to struggle with our daily realities to see anew w,hat patterns in 6ur lives need conversion. The greatest threat to our dis-cipleship is to think that we have learned enough or to reduce the reign of God to the glimpses of glory which we see in our own time. Liberation theology is probably the clearest indication to today's Church that it is still on pilgrimage. Begun with Moses' vision of a God who had heard the crying out of the Israelite slaves, reiterated in Han-nah's canticle that praises God as one who will raise up the lowly, and reborn in the 1970s through the efforts of those struggling to see God and understand God's ways from the experience of twentieth-century op-pression, this theology reminds us as a Church that we are still learning not only how, but where to find Jesus.5 2) Members of religious orders are those who are disciples of a par-ticular charismatic leader recognized by our Church. Recognizing that our stories do not belong to the time and culture of the founder or foun-dress, the charisms of these characters and their companions are a way of expressing discipleship in Christ. To be members ofa religious con-gregation~ is to take one way of interpreting discipleship of Jesus, namely the life of a founder or foundress, as a way to focus discipleship. Again, congregational members are disciples of this way of focusing, that is, there is no profession, ministry, office, or role, no direct service or in-stitutionalized ,ministry, that exempts members frorri continually learn-ing what it means to pattern their lives or focus their discipleship of Je-sus through the prism of this great man or woman. All of our lives are mystery, not in the sense that they defy explana-tion, but in Gabriel Marcel's sense that the more we are involved in them, the more inseparable we become from their depth.6 Our Church has confirmed the legacy of some men and women as mysterious, that is, there is within these persons a depth of discipleship that calls and be-comes involving for others. Nano Nagle, Francis of Assisi, Ignatius of Loyola, Elizabeth Seton, Angela Merici, and Catherine McAuley are some of these people. Their gift to the Church is mysterious to us, and that is why they can properly have disciples. The more their lives, their stories are considered, the more insight we gain into what it might mean to be a disciple of Christ in our time. Thus, many religious congregations acknowledged with Vatican II The Shifting Order of Religious Life that reflection on what it meant to follow Christ and to plead the radical nature of the Gospel through the focus on their particular founder or foun-dress meant that they must be learners of new ways. The call for renewal necessitated a refounding and a reordering of these congregations that con-tinues into the present.7 This challenge reminds many in a very profound way that they are indeed learners. 3) We are co-dikciples. There can be no doubt about this. Baptism incorporates us into a community of disciples. As members of religious communities, we are co-disciples, learners with the other clergy and la-ity. Appropriating Gospel values and finding patterns of life that typify holiness are calls received by all within the Christian community, whether they be married, single, or vowed. The sixth-century understand-ing of Pseudo-Dionysius who envisioned the grace of God as descend-ing through three hierarchical angelic choirs into two earthly hierarchies of clergy and laity respectively was normative until Lumen Gentium's statement that "in the Church, everyone . . . is called to holi-ness . ,,8 No longer do lay folk stand below those ~who profess the evangelical counsels nor do the latter stand below those who are ordained to the priesthood in the Church. Paul VI reiterated the Vatican Council's hierarchy-shattering words when he said that the whole Church received the mission of Jesus--"the community of believers, the community of hope lived and communicated, the community of love. ,,9 The consideration of volunteers, partners, and associates who claim the life and charism of a founder or foundress of a religious order in our Church as their way of focusing discipleship reminds us that we are co-disciples. These new relationships can intimidate as well as inspire and so we must continually remind ourselves of John Paul ll's challenge to the whole Church to embrace mercy. In Dives in Misericordia, he de-fined Christian mercy as "the most perfect incarnation of "equality" between people., love and mercy bring it about that people meet one another in that value which is the human person., thus mercy becomes an indispensable element for shaping mutual relationships between peo-ple, in a spirit of deepest respect for what is human . ,,~0 4) As members of apostolic congregations, ministry is our reason for existence. A common life and the vows have constituted the order of re-ligious life, but the purpose of this order for apostolic communities has always been service. Many founders and foundresses wrote words simi-lar to those of Catherine McAuley, the foundress of the Sisters of Mercy, when describing the qualifications for an aspirant to apostolic groups. Catherine stre'ssed "an ardent desire to be united to God and to serve 520 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 the poor" and a "particular interest" in helping the sick and dying. ~ The rereading of the history of apostolic orders, which was occasioned by the cali of Vatican II to renew, led many congregational members to realize that "order" or common patterns in the style and structure of the lives of men and women who focused their discipleship through the charism of a particular founder, is negotiable, but the reason for the or-der is not. This should help women and men religious to open themselves and their ownership of the legacy of their founder or foundress to those who do not "order" their lives in the same way. If the purpose of the order is service,or ministry, then should those who do not profess the evangelical counsels be excluded? This can be a very challenging ques-tion, because throughout history the only way to claim concretely many of these charisms or legacies was to order one's life through the evan-gelical counsels of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. But, as Dorothy noted in the Wizard of Oz, "Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore." Men and wom'en who do not profess these vows are desiring both to minister after the fashion of these great men and women and to receive the sup-port of congregations dedicated to these legacies without maintaining a common living style or divesting themselves of marriage possibilities or ownership of property. 5) It is not order, but mission that describes our lives. John O'Mal-ley, S.J. claims that the history of apostolic religious orders might more properly belong to the history of ministry than to the history of institu-tionalized asceti~cism. ~2 Groups that banded together for the sake of serv-ice presented a whole new trajectory within our Church, as they were a break from the ascetical tradition. However, the Church in its concern to regulate these groups modeled their "order" on the flight of Anthony into the desert in 275 A.D. Many of the great women foundresses, in par-ticular, found their desire to gather others for the sake of service to a par-ticular need frustrated by an order of enclosure, profession of vows, and obedience to an ecclesiastical superior. ~3 For example, the Sisters of Mercy often reflect on the history of Cath-erine McAuley whose companionship with other women grew around their mutual attention to the poor in early nineteenth-century Dublin. In-dependently wealthy, she commissioned the building of a "House of Mercy'r in which women could gather to devote themselves to the relief of suffering and the instruction of the ignorant. She resisted and ex-pressed discomfort about the "order" of the lives of those in congrega-tions of nuns, to the point of abhorring the thought of spending time in the Presentation novitiate to learn the ways of an established canonical The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 591 institute into the Church. However she submitted to the "ordering" be-cause without it her mission would have failed. ~4 The time in which she lived demanded that women engaged in companionship for the salve of service be organized as vowed religious women. Among many active congregations of religious in the United States, especially congregati.ons of women, the question of whether or not to re5 main canonical has arisen. This question is motivated primarily by the difficulty involved in gaining the Congregation for Religious and Secu-lar Institute's (CRIS) approbation for Constitutions and the reordering of "religious" life so that it more properly aids in fulfilling the particular mission of the group. ~5 The question, however, is not whether religious congregations will choose to remain canonical, that is, of some standard within our Church; the question is how their "order" will be specified within the Church,-that is, how will they organize themselves as women arid men embodying the charisms of great founders or foundresses within the Church. Ignoring for a moment the enormous difficulties of dealing with a bureaucratic power structure that often seems less than open to anything irregular, let us look at the question before us. Can we, as disciples of the great founders and foundresses in our Church, make a distinction be-tween vocation to a particular lifestyle or life structure (that is, marriage vows/the choice of single life/vows of poverty, celibacy, obedience) and the vocation to a particular charism and mission within the Church (a deep identity with the spirit and gifts of a particular person who focuses our discipleship of Jesus)? I think that the movements of associate membership, volunteers, part-nership (all of which imply non-vowed varying degrees of membership in religious "orders"), mighi be a tremendously important break within the history of what have come to be called "active orders" in our Church, but these movements will further our ability as a Church to do ministry as baptized disciples of Jesus. 6) One of the most pressing questions for: religious congregations is what life structure or "order of life"facilitates discipleship of Jesus focused through the mission of their founder or foundress. The current documentation abou( the life structure of those called to follow a foun-der or foundress organizes it around the three vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. Both the Vatican II document on religious life and the 1983 Essentials of Religious Life promulgated by the Vatican Congrega-tion for Religious and for Secular Institutes present the evangelical coun-sels as not only "essential," but also as the basis for the organization 522/Review for Religious, July-August 1989 of life for those in religious congregations. However, both Sandra Sch-neiders and John Lozano, show effectively in their recent and widely read treatments of religious life that the vows cannot be taken as impor-tant in themselves. 16 The vows, if taken at all, need to be placed in the context'of a statement of desire to,pursue the mission of the community, how we promise to accept the responsibilities of this mission in our lives, and how others dedicated to this mission accept us within their group. Furthermore there is more and more recognition (fueled by the relatively new science of psychology) t.hat intimate, committed relationships to per-sons, ownership, and autonomy do not make one less holy. Along with this, New Testament scholars have shown that these counsels do not flow from the gospels as such, but were constructs of our Church at a later time. And, even without Vatican ll's assertion of.the universal call to holiness, experience tells most of those who are presently members of religious congregations that they are no more holy than thos6 who choose to marry and have children, own property, and center their autonomy dif-ferently. Indeed, if men and women are going to structure their lives by pro-fessing the evangelical coufisels, (thus sacrificing the gifts of sex, own-ership, and autonomy), then these must only be given up for the sake of mission. Johannes Metz is perhaps the most clear and the most chal-lenging on this point. In his Followers o.fChrist: Perspectives on Relig-ious Life, he argues that the vows are both mystical and political. Thus, poverty demands not only a protest against the tyranny of having, pos-sessing, and pure self-assertion; it also impels those practicing it into a practical and situational solidarity with those poor whose poverty is their condition of life and the situation exacted of them by society, rather than a matter of virtue. Celibacy, as a state of being radically seized by a long-ing for the reign of God, impels one toward those unmarried people whose not having anyone is not a virtue but their social destiny, and to-wards those who are shut up in lack of expectation and in resignation. And finally, obedience is the radical and uncalculated surrender to God and it impels one to situate oneself .among those for whom obedience is nota matter of virtue but the sign of oppression and placement in tute-lage.~ 7 It is only in this way that these counsels can ever be real signs of eschatological witness. Metz has called vowed communities "shock therapy instituted by the Holy Spirit for the Church as a whole.''~8 Us-ing Metz's ideas, if I read him right, many more of us might call our-selves "associate members" of religious congregations than already do out of integrity. There may be many who want to focus their discipleship The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 593 of Jesus through the legacy of a great founder or foundress, but their ac-commodations to the culture would indicate not that they are lesser dis-c! ples, but rather that the functions they perform and the gifts they bring to the reign of God are not th6se that necessitate or call them to the vowed life. That is, "association" may be more appropriate for those who draw support from the tradition or story of a great founder or foundress and find the mission of that congregation an animating principle for their dis-cipleship. Whereas formal vowed commitment to one another, relinquish-ing of goods and full authoring over one's choice of service might be re-served for those whose discipleship leads them to more radical under-takings. The question here concerns the life-structure (or "order") that has traditionally been associated with claiming followership of a specific mission in our Church. Are there ways to embody the tradition of minis-try defined, by a great founder or foundress in our Church as one group in which some are vowed to poverty, celibacy, and obedience and oth-ers are not? Those who are vowed in the traditional way choose a life-structure which more clearly binds them to the ~reedom to move around and respond to unmet needs among the poor, alone, and oppressed. 19 Those who do not profess the vows but do center their discipleship on the founding charism might be called to a,life-structure which points to-ward a certain stability within a local Church community. One could as-sert that there must be ways to accommodate this diversity because even using the traditional ordering of religious life, which included the vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience as part of the package, I would sub-mit that there are some within religious congregations who have the free-dom to live the vows as Metz proscribes and others whose lives point toward and demand a different modi~ of discipleship. That is, the vows may not be absolutely constitutive of focusing one's discipleship through the charism of a great founder or foundress.2° 7) There is a need for enabling ministers who are not constrained by local church boundaries. According to O'Malley, one of the most re-markable characteristics of the development of active orders is that it in effect created a "church order (or several church orders) within the great church order and itdid this for the reality to which ~:hurch order primar-ily looks--ministry."z~ That is, pontifically erected religious orders en-joy a warrant and exemption from the bishop of Rome to act publicly on behalf of the Christian community wherever the needs to which their charism responds arise. This has, throughout history, caused some ju-ridical as well as cultural complications. However, despite difficulties, 524 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 needs have been' attended to that would never have been served if it was necessary to rely only on the personnel within local boundaries. As the order of religious life shifts, this is a very important compo-nent of our history that should not be lost. This "pontifical warrant" for the sake of ministry has allowed for tremendous creativity in meet-ing the needs of the people of God. Glimpses of the reign of God are seen in the histqry Of religious orders who have brought literacy, heal-ing, and economic stability to the uneducated, sick, ahd poor around the world. 8) Finally, men and women in religious orders need to realize the gifts they can sh~are with the Church. The emergence of the laity is very new to our Church, and the long history that religious orders have of do-in~ ministry leaves many' within them unskilled at enabling and serving with others. But vowed men and women need to recognize that one of the gifts they may have is 6ffering those who have taken to heart the mes-sagegf the gospel and the spirit of Vatican II both some encouragement and some means for realizing their call. Many who~desire a more intense following of Christ may find that the sp, iritual, intellectual, and apostolic life in their parishes does not encourage these needs and aspirations. Thus, they only feel frustration in their call to maturity and co-responsibility in the Church. Religious orders ha~,e a wealth of experi-ence in thinking through methods for spiritual development and encour-aging other adults in gro~vth. Many find in religious life rich resources of the heritage of the Church not avail~.ble in local parishes. They find a focus and discipline for spiritual growth, a unifiedvision of the pur-pose of discipleship, .and a structured identity with a family in a living tradition of the Church. The challenge is to share these gifts, without thinking people have to become "mini-religious'"l~o acquire them. An extension of our charisms beyond those in the vowed ranks might mean that many more can become effective ministers in the parish and the Church at large. Part II We should not be surprised that a "new ordering" is difficult for us to think about and may even create controversy, dissention, and fear when we attempt to talk about it with one another. Anything new always brings a death to something within the present. Many of us love our way of ordering our .lives. We have lived the vows and known ourselves and our companions to grow through the experiences they have presented to us. We want to share our-lives, extend them, and see the "ordering" that has facilitated our growth be embraced by others. Yet this "order" The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 525 may have to die so that discipleship focused on the great charismatic lead-ers in our Church might continue. We are challenged to refound our con-gregations. This challenge implies the freedom to consider reordering our lives for the sake of mission. From the above understanding flow the following ideas that may help religious congregations to reorder their membership and to reorder the perception of religious life in the Church. I) We, as those who vowed ourselves to the legacy of great founders and foundresses within the order specified by the Church, must continue to think about what that means. Imitating her tongue-in-cheek, I quote the twentieth-century Jewish philosopher, Hannah Arendt, "what I pro-pose, therefore, is very simple: it is nothing more than to think what we are doing." The thinking, although allegedly simple, is.indeed quite com-plex and we of.ten try to escape it, precisely because we did it once be-fore during the 60s and the 70s. Even though new life was born in our midst, many of us remember the struggle and some among us have not quite recovered. Thifiking usually means that we risk conversation of sub-stance. And conversation of substance usually implies the same kind of controversy as that depicted in the Gospel account of Jesus asking Peter a question of substance. "Who do people say .that I am?" is the query of the man who had just multiplied loaves and then cured a blind one. Peter knew who Jesus was. "You are the Christ." But Peter did not like the implications of the insight. "Get behind me, Satan" is the rebuke heard when Peter tried to squirm out of the new order specified not only for Jesus but also for his own discipleship. Insights gleaned from thinking and from conversation of substance can be threatening. But we must remember that even more threatening is the possibility that some valuable offerings to the further approxima-tion of the reign of God will be lost if we are unwilling to gain and ex-press the insights of our experiences. If our experience is that the vows do not make meaning in our lives, but the charism of our founder does, then perhaps we must search for other ways to order our lives so as to offer more fully the charism of our. community to the Church. And, if our experience is that others who are not vowed can claim the legacy of our founders, (and more importantly if their experience confirms this), then they must be allowed to do so in an equal fashion. 2) We must effect reconciliation and a spirit of interdependence within our Church, especially with persons and groups claiming the same charism. As stated earlier, a tradition specifying that God's grace flowed toward the non-vowed and non-ordained last was reinforced in 596 / Review foUr Religious, July-August 1989 popular piety until the Second Vatican Council. This distanced many re-ligious from other laity and created a perception ihat vows or ordination meant that one was more graced and clos+r to God'. Men and women in religious; congregations must actively pursue reconciliation with other la-ity because, intentionally or non-intentionally, some disunity has been effected within .our Church. We can take a cue from Paul, ambassador of reconciliation, who was .furious with his community at Galatia when they entertained the idea ofclassifying and categorizing the early Chris-tians. In Christ, there is neithe~ Jew nor Greek, slave nor free person, male nor female, women religious nor lay women, Dominican from Mercy, associate member from more traditionally ordered mem-bers . Often former members of religious orders continue to claim the charism of the order as a way of focusing their discipleship. We must reach out to these people and ask them if,. even though they found the "order" of our lives restrictive, they still find themselves drawn to the charism asa focus. We need to confirm the existence and continuance of the charism in these people, and perhaps just as importantly, let them confirm the continuance of the charism in us. A more concrete way of symbolizing our reconciliation and interdependence on one another is a very simple, yet awkward thing. We need to re-form our vocabulary so that "sisters" and "brothers" does not refer to a closed group of vowed women or men. Just as many have committed themselves to the use of gender inclusive language, we need to change the language specific to our communities, so that "sisters and brothers" becomes a way to refer to all, vowed and non-vowed, who find themselves bound to the same charism. 3) Within our working places, we must announce what inspires us. We must claim our founder or foundress as inspirations, as stories that aid our belief in and discipleship of the Christ. Many people look for a way to focus and sustain their belief, and there appear to be few heroes of a depth able to sustain followers in our contemporary life. Since many of us have been inspired by and nurtured in the founding spirit of a great man or woman disciple of Christ, we must share the gift. We must let others know what moves us, inspires us, and keeps us going as disciples in a world where the odds against the fullness of God's reign dawning seem to be mounting. Perhaps we need ways to be again inspired and again encouraged in our own focus before we will feel enthusiastic enough to inspire others. In many cases, our associates are formally rethinking and reaffirming The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 527 their commitments each year. They renew their covenant with the leg-acy of the community, and they reconsider and recommit themselves to their association with others who share the same focus. Might we not learn from them something about animating our own commitments by using this model? Let us not merely resurrect the passivity of receiving an appointment card with our job and the provincial's name on it, even though there was important symbolism there. Let us every year rework and represent our covenant with the legacy of our founder or foundress. Let us reconsider and recommit ourselves to the implications of disci-pleship and association with others who share the same mission. These understandings and recommendation are initial forays into a very difficult, yet timely, topic. They are intended to spark further thought and discussion. Although I doubt there is danger of them being considered a "last word," let me close with a few lines from T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets. They reflect, 1 think, what it means to see trees walking, to be fuzzy in our sight, and what it means to face this period of time as religious men and women in our Church. These are only hints and guesses Hints, followed by guesses, and the rest Is prayer, observance, discipline, thought, and action. The hint half guessed, the gift half understood is Incarnation. Here the impossible union of spheres of existence is actual, Here the past and future Are conquered, and reconciled . -~-~ NOTES ~ An associate member is defined for the purposes of this article as one who wants to share in the life and apostolate of a religious institute and to become a member to a certain extent. "They are members associated and not incorporated by profes-sion. For a discussion of the variety of such groups and their notation in the new code of Canon Law, see Elio Gambari, Religious Life According to Vatican II and the New Code of Canon Law, (Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1986), pp. 625-635. Also, David F. O'Connor, "Lay Associate Programs: Some Canonical and Practi-cal Considerations," REview For~ REt.~;~ous 44, 2(March-April, 1985), pp. 256-267. 2 How to continue the legacy of the founder or foundress or how to continue the mis-sion of the congregation is understood to be the underlying concern of those who e.xpress dismay of the declining numbers in religious congregations. 3 Sisters of Mercy of the Union, Constitutions (Silver Spring, Maryland, 1986), nos. 29-30. Most active congregations use wording similar to this to describe their mis-sion. 521~ / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 4 This describes the call to religious men and women from the Second Vatican Coun-cil, See Perfectae Caritatis, the "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Relig-ious Life," no. 2 in Walter Abbott (ed.), The Documents~ of Vatican !I (The Amer-ica Press, 1966)." " 5 For a concise description of liberation theology by two of its most challenging pro-ponents, see Leonardo and Clodovis Boff, Introducing Liberation Theology (Ma-ryknoll: Orbis Press, 1987). 6 See his Being and Having, (New York: Harper Torchbook edition, 1965), p. I 17, 145. 7 For some initial strategies presented to and used widely in the early 1980s by men and wom,en religious struggling with the call to '~refound," see Lawrence Cada et al, Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life, (New York: Seabury Press, 1979). s "The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church," in Abbott, no. 39. 9 Evangelii Nuntiandi, "On Evangelization in the Modern World (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference, 1976). no. 15. ~0 "Rich in Mercy," (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference,. 1981), no. 14. ~ 1836 letter to a parish priest in Nass, Ireland, Quoted in Kathleen O'Brien's Jour-neys: A Preamalgamation History of the Sisters of Mercy, Omaha, Province (Omaha, Nebraska: Sisters of Mercy,1987), 6. ~20'Malley conceives of "active orders" as a '~critically important phenomenon in the history of ministry claiming "apostolic" inspiration," rather than as the insti-tutional embodiment of an ascetical tradition traced back to Pachomius. See -Priest-hood, Ministry, and Religious Life: Some Historical and Historiographical Consid-erations," in Theological Studies, 49 (1988), p. 227. ~3 The sweeping 1298 decree of Boniface VIII (repeated by Pius V in 1566) com-manded that "all nuns, collectively and individually, present and to come, of what-soever order of religion, in whatever part of the world they may be, shall henceforth remain in their monasteries in perpetual enclosure." Insight into the unfortunate ef-fect of this decree throughout the centuries following on women's attempts to or-gaoize associations for ministry can be gleaned from reading histories of women foun-dresses, such as Angela Merici, Nano Nagle, Mary Ward, and Louise de Marillac. ~'~ For more information about Catherine McAuley, see Sr. M. lgnatia Neumann, R.S.M., ed., Letters of Catherine McAuley (Baltimore: Helicon Press Inc., 1969) and M. Joanna Regan, R.S.M., Tender Courage: A Reflection on the Life and Spirit of Catherine M~Auley, First Sister of Mert3, (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1988). ~5 Note the history of the Glenmary Sisters of Cincinnati or the Los Angeles I.H.M.'s in addition to the more recent stories of Agnes Mary Monsour, Arlene Violet, and Elizabeth Morancy, all Sisters of Mercy unable to continue their ministries as vowed women ifi religious congregations. Consider also the present renewal attempts of the Association of Contemplative Sisters. For brief surveys of these cases, see "Inside- Outsiders" chapter three of Mary Jo Weaver's New Catholic Women: A Contempo-rary Challenge to Traditional Religious Authority (New York: Harper and Row, 1988) . ~6 See Sandra M. Schneiders, New Wineskins: Re-imaging Religious Lift, Today (New York: Paulist, 1986) and John M. Lozano, Discipleship: Towards An Understand-ing of Religious Life (Chicago: Claret Center tk)r Spiritual Resources, 1980). Also see O'Malley, "Priesthood," p. 249 tbr the same point from a different perspec- The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 599 tive. ~7 J.B. Metz, Followers of Christ: Perspectives on the Religious Life (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), chapter 3. ~8 lbid, p. 12. 19 Being "bound to freedom" appears at first sight to be an oxymoron, however the phrase is an attempt to reflect the demands made by the vows. ~0 Of interest in this regard is that even though various documentation from our church and the recent writings on religious life avert to the vows as important, if not essential, the Fifth Interamerican Conference on Religious Life, inclusive of leader-ship from men and women religious of North and South America, did not name the vows as essential. In a preparatory paper, the Leadership Conference of Women Re-ligious named mission, community, freedom, ministry, participative government, pub-lic witness, apostolic spirituality, spirituality of the founder, and ecclesial character as characteristics of religious life. None of the descriptions of the above included the vows. See The Role of Apostolic Religious Life in the Context of the Contempo-rary Chu'rch and World: Fifth Interamerican Conference on Religious Life (Ottawa: Canadian Religious Conference, 1986). 2~ O'Malley, p. 236. 22 T.S. Eliot, The Four Quartets (London: Faber and Faber, 1960), lines 212-219. Monasticism: A Place of Deeper Unity M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., well-known for his many publications on prayer and the contemplative life, may be addressed at Assumption Abbey; Route 5; Ava, Missouri 65608. In 1976 for six months I had the privilege of living among the Orthodox monks on Mount Athos, the semi-autonomous monastic republic in north-ern Greece. There the Gospels are the law of the land and day-to-day liv-ing is governed by the writings of the great spiritual fathers of the past, most notably those of Saint Basil, Archbishop of Caesarea, named the Great. I noted the remarkable affinity between the life lived on the Moun-tain and that lived by the monks of Saint Joseph's Abbey in the United States, from whence I came. The one great difference that struck me was the way lay visitors were incorporated into the life and worship of the monks. It was evident that there was no gulf between the life and wor-ship of the monks and that of the ordinary devout member of the Ortho-dox church. Orthodox monasticism is at the heart of the Church and all the rest of Church life is deeply influenced by it. In Western Christianity, monasticism is further removed from the life of the ordinary church member. Yet the historical influence of the monas-tics can not be denied, even among those Christian Churches which have largely disowned monasticism. Catholics generally revere monasticism, especially the more contemplative variety, and hold it in reverence as something vital to the life of the Church. The Second Vatican Council affirmed this strongly. Quite generally Catholics frequent monastic guest houses and retreats and find there something that speaks deeply to them. Protestant Christians from such contacts are beginning to reclaim this part of the common Christian heritage. The Anglican or Episcopal church 530 Monasticism and Unity/531 has been in the forefront in this. But the most notable Protestant monas-tery is one within the reform tradition--the monastery of Taize which is found in a part of France filled with monastic resonances: Citeaux, Cluny, Molesme. Most re~:ently the General Conference of the United Methodist Church has authorized the exploration of the possibility of es-tablishing an ecumenical monastic community in the United States. ,Monasticism is, then, a widespread phenomenon within the Chris-tian community and is becoming ever more present. It would be difficult to exaggerate the role of monasticism within some of the other world religions. Tibet, before the recent Communist take over, could have been called, like Mount Athos, a monastic coun-try, more a theocracy than a republic. In many Buddhist countries it has been the expected thing that every male would spend sometime within a,.monastery as part of his preparation for life. Although secularization is having an increasing effect within the Buddhist world, the monastic influenc
Issue 34.6 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Revtew ]or Rehgtous is edited by faculty members of the School of Diwnlty of St Louis Umverslty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Budding, 539 North Grand Boulevard: St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right ~) 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years (for airmail delivery, add $5.00 per year). Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review Jot Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November 1975 Volume 34 Number 6 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen. S.J.: St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Unmarriageable for God's Sake Peter G. van Breemen, S.J. Father van Breemen studied nuclear physics in Amsterdam, Holland, and in Rochester, N.Y. He was novice-master in his home province (Netherlands), has a broad experience in Working with priests and religious as spiritual director and lecturer both here and abroad, and is presently in charge of the combined Flemish (Belgian)-Dutch novitiate. His present address is Priorijdreef 21; 1160 Brussels, Belgium. The Old Testament often speaks of virginity, but always the reference is to the virginity of the people as a whole; e.g., Jeremiah says, "I build you once more; ¯ you shall be ri~buiit, virgin of Israel" (3, 1-4), and again, "Come home, virgin of Israel, come home to these towns of yours" (31, 21). In Isaiah we find the same concept: the chosen people as a whole is the virgin bride of Yahweh: Like a young man marrying a virgin so will the one who built you wed you, and as the bridegroom rejoices in his bride, ,so will your God rejoice in you (62, 5). For now your creator will be your husband, his name, Yahweh. Sabaoth; your redeemer will be the Holy One.of Israel, he is called the God of the whole earth (54, 5). We can make the general statement that in the Old Testament virginity is never lived in a personal way. On the contrary, lJersonal virginity is far removed from the mind of an Israelite. Fertiliiy was a blessing, and the com-mandment of Genesis (1, 28) "Be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth" was very sacred to the Jews. This article is a chapter from Father van Breemen's forthcoming book, Called by Name, scheduled to be published by Dimension Books, Denville, N.J., in January, 1976. 839 a40 / Review for Religious, ~'olume 34, 1975/6 The natural longing for posterity found in all people, but especially in more primitive people, was deepened to a far greater degree for the Israelite by,the fact that the messiah had been promised as one of his race. To the Jews, therefore, the role of father and mother became sacred in a heightened ~ense. They had many sayings which illustrated their convictions in this matter; e.g., "Who does not marry is like a person who sheds blood," or ". is like a murderer!" A person who did not marry had the power of life within him but did not transmit it. Even as lateas prophetic times Jeremiah's celibacy was a shock. The most striking example of this sacredness of parenthood is found in the Book of Judges (11, 30-40), where we read the story of the daughter of Jephthah, who was to die for a mistaken and unlawful interpretation of a vow made by her father. She accepts her death submissively, but for the young girl, even worse than the death itself to which she is condemned is the fact that she must die without having been fruitful. "Grant me one request," she pleads, "Let me be free for two months. I shall go and wander in the mountains, and with my companions bewail by virginity." The whole longing of the Israelite for children is heard in that plea, as it is also in the words of Rachel: "Give me children or I shall die" (Gen 30, i). It is only in the New Testament that personal celibacy becomes a factor in human life. This is most probably connected with the incarnation and demonstrates that only an incarnate God can enable us to live as celibates, since it is the person of Jesus Christ who is at the heart.of celibacy. Virginity can be realized only because of Christ and with Him since it is only a con-tinuous focusing on Him .which enables us to persevere in purity of heart and flesh without becoming turned in on ourselves. Matthew lists three categories of eunuchs: There are eunuchs'born that way from their mother's womb, there are eunuchs made sot by men and there are eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can (19, 12). Because "eunuch" is such a horrible word, it is a very humbling experience to dwell upon the reality of this mystery. A eunuch is one who is incapable of human marriage. The very starkness of the phrase is in .one way the highlight of all considerations of the mystery of celibacy. "Eunuch" sounds so much like "freak," an incomplete person, one somehow lacking an essential that con-stitutes him human. It intensifies the harshness of the truth which the word "virgin" softens somewhat. On the surface, to "make myself unmarriageable" seems to imply that I should make myself as unattractive as possible so that no one will be interested even in looking at me. But that would be a shallow and exterior approaqh to being unmarriageable. A more valid understanding of the mystery of celibacy would be this: a woman, very much in love with her hus-band, would have eyes for no other man. In this sense, she is no longer marriageable for any other man. She is bound and committed to this one alone--freely, happily. The real mystery of consecrated celibacy lies. in the reason for it, expressed by Christ in the words "for the sake of the kingdom of Unmarriageable for God's Sake / 841 heaven." The kingdom is where God truly reigns,~where the will of God is fulfilled entirely; in other words, where God is fully God. In the history of salvation the kingdom of God so far has been fully realized only in Jesus Christ and in His mother Mary. In the person of Jesus, God's Will was totally accomplished; He is the kingdom of God enfleshed. From His time onward, celibacy for the kingdom of heaven is possible because now it can find inspira-tion and impetus from contemplation .of the kingdom as shaped in Jesus Christ. This is another way saying that Jesus Himself is at the heart of New Testamental celibacy. In its final analysis, celibacy means being captured by Christ. He is our life (Col 3, 4), fascinating us so completely that eventually we become un-marriageable, In its deepest sense, this is what celibacy means. It is not on the basis of pros and cons that one undertakes freely to live one's entire life in celibacy, nor is it just a state of being unmarried; rather, it is existentially be-ing incapable of marriage. When Jesus says there are eunuchs that have made themselves thus for the sake of the kingdom of heaven, He is pointing out that true celibacy is achieved not in a single leap, but by a process of slow growth. The Rule of Taiz6 says, "This work of Christ .in' you demands infinite patience." When a person takes first or even final vows, usually he is not yet unmarriageable. What he expresses in his vow is a two-fold covenant: he professes publicly for everyone to know that he recognizes as an ideal for himself the state of being unmarriageable for the sake of the kingdom of heaven; and he promises that he will put forth every effort to achieve this goal. He will not try to preserve himself marriageable as long as possible; on the contrary, he will try seriously, honestly to make himself unmarriageable. It is a long, .sometimes difficult road to become unmarriageable for the sake of the kingdom, It can take years, even decades, to. progress far on this narrow way of being fascinated by Jesus Christ, but by his vow the religious promises to advance as quickly as he can. He will not procrastinate~ This is his ideal, and he will run to meet it. Only when the point of really being unmarriageable has been reached has celibacy become fully mature. In a book written for priests, La Peur ou la Foi, Maurice Bellet has observed: Suppose one morning a priests reads in his newspaper that the Pope has changed his mind on the En-cyclical Sacerdotalis celibatus; from now on celibacy will be optional for priests. If that priest at this point has to make up his mind what he is going to do--make use of the new opening for marriage or remain celibate--th~ mere fact that he has to deliberate indicates that he is not yet existentially un-marriageable. Thus far, he is only juridically unmarriageable. Genuine celibacy goes so much deeper than a law because it is the interiorization of the goal of that law. The content of celibacy is eminently positive. It involves not just being un-married, but being fascinated by another--Christ--to such a degree that marriage is no longer possible. Celibacy does not mean that on~ has lost something, but rather that the celibate has found Someone. In essence, celibacy is love which can no longer wait; that is what makes it fruitful. There 842 / Review for Religious," Volume 34, 1975/6 is another dimension, at once ecclesial and eschatological, which enhances the value of celibacy and helps to prevent it from becoming myopic or introspec-tive. The celibate stands as an enduring witness that all Christians are pledged to a new order of grace, the fullness of which is that kingdom where no one will be given in marriage. He thus becomes by his celibacy a prophetic voice, recalling to all men that there are ultimate values not wholly attainable in our present life, and that it is only at our journey's end that we shall experience the fullness of God's giving. En route, there is only one thing necessary: God's love as revealed in Christ. Celibacy is a pilgrimage, a tremendous adventure. Along this way we meet magnificent people who have really become unmarriageable because of God. Unhappily, we also meet some who in their celibacy have not come to complete fulfillment, but have become bogged down along the road. Negative Celibacy There is a danger, of course, a risk involved in celibacy because there we lack the incentives provided by marriage and the care of a family. This means that celibacy can lead to a coldness of heart, a lack of affection, possibly even to laziness. The only radical remedy against this danger is to focus all our attention on the heart and inspiration of celibacy, for unless it is based on deep attraction for the person of Christ, celibacy can be irresponsible. In this lies its real challenge. It would be unrealistic to ignore the fact that the celibate life in-volves a genuine deprivation, something which we miss because we are celibates. 'Jesus answered the man who wanted to follow Him wherever He went: "Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head" (Lk 9, 58). So, no home of His own for the Son of Man, no home of his own for the celibate! One who follows Christ in the celibate why has no conjug~d ties--no husband or wife or children--and he m'isses the warmth these can" provide and the appeal they can make on him. This is the negative element in celibacy. There is also a positive element: viz., the fascination which Christ has for this person, the dedication to the apostolate or to contemplative life, the commitment to the kingdom of God, the being available for the people of God. In every celibate life boththe positive and the negative elements are always present, but in varying degrees, and in this lies the differing quality of celibacy. We call that a negative celibacy when the negative element predominates even though .there is, of course, some minor positiveelement present. The first im-pression this type of celibacy gives is a kind of frustration, .a deprivation; something is missing. We speak about a positive celibacy when--the negative element being present to a certain degree--the over-all impression is that of a wholesome life at once fulfilled and appealing. It is the celibacy in which negative elements prevail which presents the greatest difficulty, yet its problems are not ineradicable. There is always possi-ble a genuine conversion which will transmute the negative, making it genuinely positive. This conversion may require that the religious relinquish some things in or.der to find Christ and to contemplate Him more deeply so Unmarriageable for God's Sake / 043 that he may fill the emptiness. Perhaps there is .some foreign element blocking Christ's way in the life of negative celibacy, and until this is removed, the joy of.positive celibacy remains elusive. It is important that there be a genuine transformation of this negative celibacy into a positive one, a transformation that is truly worth the price it exacts. There is a second way to cope with negative celibacy: to seek dispensation from the vows and then to leave in order to search for happiness elsewhere. Apart from these two radical ways to overcome negative celibacy, there are also two forms of compromise open. In these methods of temporizing the celibate does not break his promise by giving up his vows, nor does he take the radical measure to make his celibacy really positive, but he seeks the in-between solutions of either sublimation or compensation. In sublimation the gap which is there and which is predominant is filled up with important human values. In themselves,~of course, these human values were not the reason why the religious chose celibacy, but having more or less failed in the option he did choose, he tries to make the best of the situation by sublimating it into human values which in themselves are good: work, relations with others, influential positions, broad culture, wide interests. The pain of not being able to'marry, of not being father or mother, is assuaged to some extent by these other values. People attempting this sublimation work very hard; they frequently carryoalmost a double load, and others may marvel at their efficiency and their energy. Outwardly, their life seems anything but a failure. And yet, deep down, :this celibacy is a failure because it was never in-tended for this excessive work-load. Or such a person may seek out many social contacts and relationships, many friends, Or it may be a devotion to study or a drive for power which preempts his attention. In all this, the reac-tion is a sublimation of tlae real core of celibacy. The other type of compromise for coping with negative celibacy without ~ibandoning it completely or transforming it into the positive is compensation, basically the same substitution of a lesser value for the real one, but here the human values used to fill the gap are no longer important ones, but rather of a lower species: insipid literature, curiosity, shallow hobbies. Neither of these ways out of negative celibacy--sublimation or compen-sation- is a sufficiently radical solution to the problem. The only effective way to combat negative celibacy is to grow into positive celibacy, that is to strengthen the positive element by means of a deeper, more intent focusing on the kingdom of heaven incarnate in Jesus. True Celibacy Since the deepest root and inspiration of true celibacy is the person of Christ, the people of God also play an important role in celibacy, and this in two ways: dedication to the kingdom of heaven always means dedication to the body of Christ as formed by the .people; and celibacy needs the support of the people of God and, even more pointedly, the support of the community. Celibacy is not constituted by turning away from the people; rather it is con- 844 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 stituted by the fact that through the celibate God turns Himself towards the people. A celibate is not divided, torn between Christ and the people. He lets his affection for the people coincide as completely as pos.~sible with Christ's love for them because he is taken up in this covenant relation between God and His people. Thus, a person who gives himself to Christ gives himself to the Christ who offered Himself for everybody; therefore, genuine dedication to Christ is always dedication to all whom we encounter. In fact, celibacy always implies ,the call to devote oneself to the~ neighbor with Christ's own love. If we really give ourselves to Christ, He will enlarge our hearts so that we can em-brace many and live truly fruitful lives. This dedication to Christ, however, is lived in the darkness of faith and the longing of hope, and often the fruitfulness of our lives is not apparent. We commit ourselvesto Christ, but we have never seen Him. We have to live with a certainty that has no basis in this visible world; there is no hand to hold. The man whodives thus is brave and mature: no one who has seen this or who has tried it hims~elf will deny that. A celibate life is a courageous life, one that has a kind of poverty about it because it offers nothing tangible to which I can cling. I can never grasp God. Sociologically, the poverty of celibacy is often looked upon as something to be pitied. This can be a grace to be.exploitedmone that the celibate would betray if he sought to create an impression of heroism before the people. Instead of trying to elevate celibacy to a pedestal, let him live it as one of the poor of Yahweh: You have seduced me, Yahweh, and 1 have let myself be' seduced: you have overpowered me: you were the stronger. I am a daily laughing-.stock, everybody's butt (Jer 20., 7). In some of our recent theologizing it is possible that we cross the narrow line between giving reasons for the hope that is within us and giving proof for the validity, of our way of life. Underlying this is the sometimes barely acknowledged desire to make ourselves important to .ourselveS. Nor should the celibate claim that his celibacy makes him completely available to the people, because such a claim would be too pretentious, giving him an honor which he does not deserve. Celibacy for the sake of the kingdom of heaven does not need anything outside itself to justify it. In itself it is a ser-vice, provided that it is lived to the full. The ultimate service I render is not that I have more time, that I am more free for people, but that I have pledged as my most constant ideal openness to God and the public testimony of the reality of God in my life. Celibacy is not to be admired by the people. All that is important is that I should.be captured by Christ and spread the news 0f His love. It is enough that religious be a "light to the world~" a beacon to travelers, not so much something for people to admire, as a light for them to see the direction in which they are to go. The very simplicity in which we live our celibacy can in itself be a sign which silently and humbly promotes the reality of God. This is the greatest service we can render to people by our celibacy--to show them that God is so real that He can truly fill a human heart and can Unmarriageable for God's Sake /,,845 bring a human life to fulfillment. Cardinal Suhard says: "To be a witness does not consist in engaging in propaganda nor even in stirring up people, but in be-ing a living mystery. It means to live in such a way that one's life would not make sense if God did not. exist." There is a final way in which other people enter into our celibacy: for a truly celibate life we need the support of others. A cold community which affectively isolates a celibate can do great harm to the growth of positive celibacy in its members. We can never come to God completely by ourselves; we need the inspiration and affection of our fellowmen. It is not that we should claim that support or demand it; that is a most sure way of ruining it. But we should be able to hope for it. And we certainly should be poor and humble enough to be receptive to it when it is freely and purely given. This means that the people in the parish are partly responsible for the celibacy of their priests, and members of a religious community have mutually promised to be respon-sible for one another's celibacy. We are to be living signs of God's love. Celibacy would be a mere caricature of the gospel if it did not make visible God's love in the human community: "See how they love one another!" Commitment in a Changing World Sisters Margaret Farley and Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M. This article represents the proceedings of a seminar sponsored by the Sisters of Mercy on the topic indicated in the title. The proceedings were edited for publication by Sisters Margaret and Doris. Sister Doris resides at the Generalate of the Sisters of Mercy; I0000 Kentsdale Drive; P.O. Box 34446; West Bethesda, MD 20034. Introduction For many years now religious have been accustomed to hearing that one in three marriages ends in divorce, so that we are no longer startled by that bit of information. More recently, however, we have also observed that the number of dispensations from religious vows now exceeds the number of religious professions, and, in some regions, laicizations outnumber ordinations. Furthermore, in today's professional world several career changes are ex-pected in one professional lifetime. In such a context of flux and imper-manence, can a commitment made for a lifetime have any relevance or viability? It was to explore this question that the Sisters of Mercy undertook a study pr6ject on "permanency in commitment." Religious communities have not been exempt from the currents of change: the reluctance of younger members to commit themselves for life, the waning of vitality in the commit-ment of some older members, and the increased number of dispensations from religious vows all testify to a new interpretation of "permanence" as a value. It can certainly not be concluded that the challenge to permanency in cofia-mitment springs from a lack of generosity. Rather, in many cases it appears to be the result of new insights into the developmental character of the human person, into the dynamism of change in all areas of life, and into the inter-relationship of all aspects of human life, sothat change in one area necessitates an adjustment in another. Nor, on the other hand, can it be concluded that the situation has so changed in the last generation that a case can no longer be 846 Commitment in a Changing World made today for lifetime fidelity to commitments. The lives of untold thousands testify to commitments freely'entered into and fruitfully lived out in ever-unfolding contexts. The purpose of the study reported here, therefore, was to bring together the new insights of contemporary research and reflection and the lived reality of contemporary experience in order to illuminate various practical questions. The immediate context of the study was commitment in religious life, since the project was inaugurated by a religious community, but it was felt that the reflections would have a wider applicability. An investigation such as this must necessarily be multi-disciplinary: the sociologist, the psychologist, the philosopher, and the theologian have all reflected on human experience from a particular vantage point. Many fine ar-ticles have been published in recent years on the phenomenon of change and of non-commitment; but 'all of them necessarily examine the issue from the author's individual perspective. Accordingly, in the fall of 1973, the Sisters of Mercy invited a number of participants to engage in a dialogue which would attempt to bridge the gaps between various disciplines and to widen the con-text of contemporary discussion. The dialogue which ensued was not intended to come up. with "answers" nor to bear fruit in a consensus which would be unanimously endorsed only because it represented the least common denominator of the discussion, but rather to enrich the collective understand-ing of the participants and to furnish a context for future reflection and; perhaps, decision-making. The participants in the study all entered enthusiastically into the dialogue and contributed a rich variety of intellectual viewpoints and life experiences. A brief introduction to the. members of the study group follows: Sidney Callahan: columnist in the National Catholic Reporter; author; lecturer. Thomas Clarke, S.J.: theologian; author; staff person at the Gonzaga Center for Spirituality, Monroe, New York. Norita Cooney; R.S.M.: assistant professor of sociology, College of St. Mary's, Omaha, Nebraska; Director of the Office for Pastoral Development, Archdiocese of Omaha. Margaret, Farley, R.S:M.: associate professor of ethics, Yale Divinity School. Jean Flannelly, S.C.: clinical psychologist; instructor at Cathedral College, Douglaston, New York; active i9 personnel servi6es for the Sisters of Charity. Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M.: General Councilor of Sisters of Mercy; member of the Planning Committee for this study. John Haughey, S.J.: associate editor of ,,lmerica," adjunct professor of theology, Fordham University; author. ~ Theresa Kan¢, R.S.M.: Provincial Administrator ot: Sisters of Mercy, Province of New York; member of the Planning Committee for this study. Ellen Marie Keane, R.S.H.M.: .professor of philosophy at Marymount College, Tarrytown, New York. Mary Evangeline McSloy, R.S.M.t staff associate at St. Clotilde's parish in Chicago; formerly Executive Secretary of the Sister Formation Conference; member of the Planning Committee for this study. Miriam Sharpe, R.S.M.: Provincial Councilor of Sisters of Mercy, Province of Providence. Richard Westley: chairman of the Graduate Department of Philosophy, Loyola Univer-sity, Chicago. a4a / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 In the initial phase of this study project, the participants all undertook to read a selection of articles pertinent to the topic, as a kind of basic orientation to the: discussion. Therefore, the bibliographical references included should be seen as integral to the report, rather than as merely an appendage. In several of these articles can be found more extended statements of some of the par-ticipants~. Furthermore, anyone who reads these references will be led to other sources which will further enlarge the parameters of his or her reflection. In the second phase of the study, which provides the basis for this article, the participants gathered at Mount Mercy, Dobbs Ferry, New York, for a weekend which was described as a "think tank/retreat" experience--an oppor-tunity for free-flowing, uninterrupted dialogue on the topic of "permanency in commitment." The sessions were taped, and this report is an: attempt to distill from the hundreds of pages of transcript a sampling of the opinions expressed: The comments chosen have been rearranged and/or paraphrased .in order to allow~ for, a greater economy of words, but the dialogue format has been preserved in order to convey the liveliness and immediacy of the exchange. The reader,must also be aware that not everyone agreed with every opinion ex, pressed, nor did every comment represent a carefully-reasoned-out position. Rather; some remarks were more in the nature of trial balloons, insights and fragments which were intended to stimulate further responses from the :com-panions in the discussion. Early in the dialogue the participants recognized that there is a degree of artificiality about isolating the element of permanency from commitment. It was,generally felt that.the nature of commitment itself was at issue, ,and that permanency merely designated one quality or aspect of it. Thus it was felt tha~t if the nature of commitment itself was explored, the place of "permanency" in our understanding of it would be clarified. Accordingly, much of what follows is a shared reflection on commitment itself, with the element of temporality as a recurring motif."Commitment," as this was generally understood and used by the group, referred to an interpersonal promise, rather than to a pledge to some ideal or abstract entity. It was used to refer to promises made to God (for example, through baptism orthe profeSsion of Vows in religious, life) or to another person (as in marriage or family or friendship). A strict dichotomy was not intended here: thus, promises made to God have their human expres-sion and commitment to persons has a God-ward dimension. The term "com-mitment," therefore, was used both for the fundamental option and for other interpersonal involvements. When the focus is more specific, the statement is qualified in some way to indicate the proper context in which it should be read_. The following pages, l~hen, are the record of a dialogue, arranged in such a way as to encourage the reader to enter into the flow of ideas and to challenge and qualify and enlarge upon them. As every discussion does, this one" flowed freely and occasionally rambled down some p,retty tangential paths. But in retrospe6t the group's reflections seem to fall under four headings: the challenge to commitment; commitment and human life; commitment and time; and the institutionalization of commitment. Commitment in a Changing World ! !!49 I. "The Challenge to Commitment~ Commitment is challenged today ~'rom many sides and o~ man)~ grounds. The following are a sampling of some ~f the objections which the participants observed. It should be noted that these alleged difficulties spring from both theoretical and existential ~considerat'ions. Some comments in this section deal with the waning of commitments once made, rather than with the reluctance to make them. ~ - E~,en our getting together to talk about commitment might be a sign that the concept is threadbare! ' -What I bear people saying today is that to promise to love someone forever . is to lock,-one's feelings into rigidity or into duty, and thus to destroy them. They are willing to say something like, "I do love you, but it's irrelevant~to think about whether I'll love you tomorrow. In fact, ~I won't be able to love you as well now if you make me think about tomorrow. What moves me to say I love you today may not move me tomorrow." -That's right. Sartre is known as the philosopher of commitment, and his whole point is not that we shouldn't be committed, but that we should be °~uthentic in our commitment. We shouldn't be hypocritical~ that is, we shouldn't say, "I love you and I'll, love you forever," and then when we stop loving, continueoto pretend that we do. The thing to do is to say, "1 love you now, and I'll be faithful to that now and take each day as it comes.:' -It seems to me, though, that there are a lot of perversions in the name of authenticity and honesty! In any kind of relationship you're going to have to go through some very dry, dead times., there can be just total periods of deadness in every living°~relationship. ~ -What I think is interesting, then, is how long do you let something be? .How long can you hope that the deadness is going to revive? That's the key thing. Even though.spring follows winter, if you had a winter that went on for twen-ty years, I'd begin to wonder. The point is, how much suffering and how much deadness can there be in a living relationship? -Or,.what if the deadness turns into something really destructive? We're all familiar, too, with the joylessness of some "committed" peoplewthe teeth-gritted, fist-clenched determination to "stick it out!" -We need creative ways to deal with genuine ~nguish. creative ways to live ~ the winter of~ commitment as well as the summer. It is not necessarily hypocritical to~ sustain a commitment through anguish it may be an authentic experience. -Anguish in commitment is one thing, but what about sheer indifference? The absence of any feeling at all is much harder to interpret than suffering. At .least the latter is a sign of some kind of lifel- -I wonder if some of the situations you describe, of the feeling of deadness or the absence of a relationship that had been vital, may not be experiences of , what the mystics used to call the "dark night.'°' Underneath the present pain . is.the conviction that it's still all right, and that somehow or other I'm being 850 / Review for Religious, I"olume 34, 1975/6 weaned off of one level of relationship, and after I go through this thing, this inertia or deadness, it's going to come out all right, But part of the commit-ment is to kind of "hang in there" when the fruits of the love are no longer tangiblemprecisely out of love--and out of the realization that the relationship is going to be deeper at the end. But 9ne of the cultural obstruc-tions we face is that we want to live in a constant positive feeling, a kind of constant ecstacy, a resurrection experience without the crucifixion. But that is just not a realisti~ expectation, given the human condition. -Another reason that people are constantly disappointed is because of the way that they define love. If they define it in the context of growth, of somehow meeting each Other's needs for happiness, joy, and affection, then that's a very limited context. Because then, if their needs aren't fulfilled, they conclude that love is no longer there. And they go on to redefine the relationship: they say, "I was infatuated with that person," even though they had said previously that they loved him. And then they start hunting for another relationship that will fulfill their needs, so that somehow love is not defined in the context of "forever with one person," but in the context of moving from one to another to another and growing as they .move. -That's an illustration of the concept of "Protean man, popularized by Robert Lifton. In this theory, modern man is like the mythical god Proteus, ,, who constantly changed shapes in order to conceal his identity. In its modern application it means that man constantly changes from one commitment to another without any continuity: every relationship is necessarily short-lived and without effect on what followsl If that is an accurate description of man, the human person, then any discussion of permanency in commitment is irrelevant. The only thing Protean man is permanently committed to is non-commitment! -Such a person is a perpetual wanderer. Kierkegaard uses the symbol of a butterfly moving from one experience to another, never investing itself-~-just kind of tasting and moving on. -The Protean-man image does give a picture, though; of many people who ex-perience themselves as. fragmented, without a sufficiently.clear self-identity to make an enduring and deeply-felt commitment. To talk about commit-ment to people who are devoid of self-confidence or of a firm self-concept is to raise an issue which isn't even a real option for them. -There is a diversity in contemporary experience, though, and I wonder if people don't resist making commitments for very different reasons--but reasons which come together in ways that may be interesting, especially for psychologists. I would identify two challenges to commitment, that from idealism and that from despair. The first is the situation of those who enter-tain a larger hope for humanity than human commitments seem to provide. , They are saying that only commitment i~ holding them back from a grander human adventure; it's reducing their f~eedom. 'But on the other hand, and perhaps even hidden in the first position somehow, is the challenge to com-mitment from contemporary~despair, articulated perhaps in behaviorism. In Commitment in a Changing Worm / 851 this view all talk of commitment is naive: human persons are not really capable of that much. Or our aspirations are necessarily limited because of what we see in society and in the surrounding culture. -To add to what you've said, there is another kind of pseudo-idealism that is promulgated in all sorts of ways. For example, the daily "soap opera" presents a picture of romantic love in which the most important thing seems to be to respond to each new lover that comes along lest one limit one's fulfillment; It would be impossible not to be conditioned by a daily.diet of that sort of thing. It's really akin to the quest for personal fulfillment above all else that is presented in more sophisticated ways by many, forms of the media and popular entertainment. -To change the topic somewhat, the difficulty which some people experience with commitment in midlife may really be due to an over-commitment in youth. In the idealism of adolescehce some people seem to over-extend themselves and then have a kind of"energy crisis" later. But this is endemic to the human condition. When the slowdown occurs, you sort of re-negotiate your priorities and plan how you will use your remaining energies. -Yes, when people are leaving commitments, are they in fact withdrawing from over-commitments? Have they over-subscribed their selfhood in a com-mitment which is too tied-in with a cultural formulation? If they have over-invested their personhood in a fixed notion of what their commitment was supposed to be, according to .what their church taught them or their culture taught them or their parents taught them, then withdrawal from that com-mitment is no great loss. -The situation we~described earlier, of a lack of self-identity or self-worth, may also lead to over-commitment. In other words, if I find it all a shambles inside, I'll put on a religious habit or awedding ring and at least I'll know a little bit of who I am. Then I'll be discernible as Sister or Mrs. or Father. II. Commitment and Human Life Havihg dwelt at length on the difficulty of making commitments and of preserving their vitality, the discussion moved to a description of commitment itself and of the role it plays or can play in human life and development. This portion of the dialogue presupposed some basic assumptions about human nature and human capacities, assumptions which were merely hinted at without being explored. -I wonder if the whole question of whether or not commitment is possible, or wise, isn't a meaningless question.After all, people make commitments, and they want to make them. It may be a problem to know what to do about them when they are made, but in fact people do make them all the time. Even those who refuse in principle to make any commitments make a kind of commitment to non-commitment. -I doubt that it's as simple as that. There are persons who are in some sense non-committed. If I were to try to characterize such a person I think I would Review for Religious, l,'olume 34, 1975/6 say that he or she goes through the same stages that a committed person goes through, only the non-committed person goes through these stages with a series of people. The committed person.goes through these stages with one person. We could, of course, say that the non-committed person goes through a series of commitments, but that nonetheless he or she is not a "committed person." -You mean that in the stages of, say, "highs and lows" or~"light and darkness" the uncommitted person attempts to re-experience the highs with another .person? -Yes, something like that. This is what I would want to say is a picture of a non-committed person. -:But you draw your picture assuming that it is better to be committed than non-committed in this way, Isn't that precisely the question we're asking? What is wrong with moving from one commitment to another? Isn't it possi-ble that we are .even called from one commitment to another? Isn't holding on to only one commitment stifling or narrowing or--especially if the one commitment proves destructive--isn't it a mistake to hold to it simply for the sake of holding to it? -I thi'nk we're going to go a~'ound in circles on that question unless we try to see what there is about our experience of human life that makes us want to make a commitment, that makes us even need to make commitments, and that makes us think that there is something good about living a commitment out to the end. For example, doesn't it have something to do with our ex-perience of being fragmented, of wanting to love with our whole heart and mind and strength and knowing that we are not yet whole? People say today that commitment 'makes love into a duty, and thereby undermines it. I don't think that that is so~ There are loves that awaken in us, that makeus yearn to be fait~hful forever. We have an inkling that it won't just "happen" that we will be'faithful, it won't just "turn out" that we will be faithful without our making some choices about that. That's why we make promises to love. We want to give our word to the one we love. We want to gather up our whole life, our future, and place it all in affirmation 0fwhat we love. It's a question of whether our freedom is powerful enough to stretch into the future. I cer-tainly can't wind it up like a clock and then let it go! I can't just choose to love forever and then it's all settled: "I will love forever." So I commit myself, I give my pledge, my word, my promise. "To commit" means "to send with," to place somewhere, to entrust, to dwell. I give or send my word, and in so doing I entrust myself in a way to the other. Now my word calls to me from within the other. I have given the one I love a kind of claim over my love.,It is no longer a question of my simply being faithful to or consistent with, my own resolution. It is a question of my being faithful to the other in whom I dwell by my word. When my inclinations to love falter, there is the ongoing call to me from the other. -Could I add that this all makes sense because I continue to want to love, even though I. recognize my own weakness? It is not a matter of love now being Commitment in a Changing World / 053 reduced only to duty. I want to love, though the feelings and emotions that made loving easy at one time have receded for now. Kierkegaard says something like, "Duty then comes as an old friend," helping me to do what it is I most deeply want to do though cannot do without the call to faithfulness which is grounded in my having given my word. -I wonder if we could say that commitment is necessary in human lif~ not in spite of the fact that we are weak and fragmented and sinful, but because of that. If we were in paradise, commitment would be unnecessary. I remember in some recent discussions on commitment being struck by the image of ourselves as mountain climbers. Commitment is like the process of getting in your stake up higher so that you can pull yourself up. Ideally perhaps we could just walk up the mountain, but in reality we are not the kind of people who can walk up mountains. -That's an interesting idea, to think of commitment in relation to our sin-fulness. On the one hand, I think the desire to be whole in relation to the one we love--whether God or a human person--is a sign of what is good in human persons, a sign of what is true about our being, Commitment, then, if it helps to hold us in fidelity, in truthful love, serves to make us whole and to continue in relation to another. On the other hand, there is something about our desire to be whole or to be satisfied, or even to be fully alive, that is a sign of the evil, the woundedness, in us. For our desires are insatiable, and they can pull us or press us to fidelity or to fickleness. Because we are never satisfied, we can be drawn offcourse on the mountain. Without the stake, to use your image, we can try this way and that up the slope, but gradually simply lose our grip, neither dwelling happily.~ in .one place nor climbing to another. -We don't~have to talk about that just in terms of sin, although that's clearly part of our experience. Wherever there is any person with a fallible will, with shakeable freedom, it makes sense for that person to give her word. As you said a minute ago, that's yielding to someone a claim, and we do that in situations where we think we might need to be claimed, The whole point of giving one's word is to Strengthen the one who gives it, and to assure the one who receives it, and to have a way of integrating one's self and expressing one's self and one's love. When God gives His word to us, however, it's not because He has a shakeable will, but because we need assurance. It's very important for us to receive His word, to know the incredible truth that He yields to us a claim even on His love. -We know our own love as embattled, in a sense, and there are built into human life counterforces to love. We know our weakness, and we cannot guarantee our fidelity, but we want to try to build in supports against the tendency to infidelity which we recognize in ourselves. We go beyond where we are, perhaps, (like the mountain climber throwing his stake) and express and affirm what we want to be though we know we are not yet. Sometimes the fact that we give our word in the pres~ence of others also increases the chance that we will love against adversity. 864 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 -Yes, and the fear of death through commitment (since we may find that it sours or grows cold), is perhaps importantly counterbalanced by a recognition that there is another kind of death which non-commitment can entail. If there is a danger that passion (devotion, power of feeling) will die in the process of commitment, so al~o is there danger that without commitment passion will be wasted, diffused in a superficial search for an intimacy that cannot.always be had in commitment, but can never be had without it. -You make commitment sound so good that I worry about persons' wanting to make a commitment and sort of going around looking for something to commit themselves to. I agree with what you are saying, but it presupposes a kind of prior call to commitment. That is, we can't just decide we'regoing to commit ourselves and then pick something or someone to commit ourselves to. No, I think commitment at the level you are talking about makes sense only if we experience ourselves awakened in love for someone who seems worthy of our commitment, whose loveableness calls to our love and our freedom. -Yes, and as we said earlier, that is part of the problem of commitment now. Persons despair of their finding anything worthy of their commitment. Everything, in a way, depends on the revelation of persons to persons of their beauty and ioveableness. That's why it makes sense to me that everything, in a deeper way, depends on God's revelation of His beauty and loveableness. -And on His revelation that unconditional love and commitment and fidelity are possible because He loves us with a faithful and unconditional love. And perhaps on His revelation, too, that we are somehow enabled by His gift, His grace, to respond to Him and to one another with fidelity in unconditional love. -This is perhaps neither here nor the.re, but it just occurred to me that if we were todo a study of great committed people, we might find that at least one ingredient in their lives was an awareness of something beautiful, of someone beautiful. Maybe we would find that ingredient in tension with a kind of restlessness, too. There may be a combination of feeling very gifted es-pecially through love and of being haunted by a restlessness which has something to do with feeling capable of doing something because of being loved and because of loving. The participants recognized that a great deal more needs to be said about the nature of human persons, human love and commitment. Everyone wanted to underline the importance of some kind of call to commitment, of commit-ment as a response, but of commitment as a process, a way, rather than an achievement or an end. Concern was expressed to clarify commitment as not just a means to one's own wholeness, but as a means to be wholly for another. A need was expressed to address further the difficulties,in making a commit-ment and in keeping a commitment, and to address these in as concrete a way as possible. A caution was introduced because of the failure thus far to dis-tinguish different kinds and degrees of commitment. Distinctions were offered Commitment in a Changing World / 855 in terms of conditional and unconditional, temporary and permanent, relative and absolute, instrumental and core commitments. The task of personal dis-cernment as well as fidelity regarding priority of commitments was noted. At this point, however, the discussion shifted to more explicit questions of com-mitment and time, of commitment lived through a lifetime. III. Commitment and Time A recurring theme throughout the discussions was the experience of time in human commitments. Again and again participants struggled with both con-crete examples of change in commitment and love, and with theoretical inter-pretations of human time and duration. Even a theology of time seemed to become important in considering issues of Christian commitment. -We spoke in the beginning of the problem of time and change within com-mitment. If I change (which I inevitably do), how can I pledge myself to re-main the same in my love for another? How can I even say I will continue to perform the deeds of love? What if new circumstances make that.iml~ossible? Or what if the one I love changes? Am I ever justified in changing my com-mitment, even in breaking it? I for one would like to focus on just these questions for awhile. -Yes, what about the current theory that commitments made by me when I was young are no longer binding when I become mature? I'm not the same person I was, and so I can no longer be held to what an earlier self pledged. -Is our understanding of the personal self at stake here? If so, I hold for some kind of continuity of the self, some kind of continuing self-identity. I think I am the same person I was as a childmeven though I am obviously also profoundly different. I am, therefore, responsible in the present for com-mitments I made in the past. -Always responsible, do you think? Or even if always responsible, always still obligated? -I think we need to be more concrete here. Surely it can be the case that even .though I am in some sense the same person throughout my lifetime, yet I can undergo sufficient change (or the situation can change drastically) so that, for example,~ I am unable to complete my commitment without clear destructiveness to others or to myself to an extent that outweighs whatever is to be gained by completing it. Or surely I can change so that my way of ex-pressing my committed love needs to be modified. It doesn't seem to me the most important question is whether or not a change in commitment is ever justified. It obviously can be justified if, for example, it becomes impossible to keep a commitment, or if a prior commitment conflicts with keeping this commitment, or if this commitment deepens into a commitment which fulfills it but is beyond ~. ,, -I agree with you, but you realize you are on what ethicists might call a slippery slope. While it is true that changes in commitment can be called for, we are also inclined to do a lot of rationalizing in that regard. I'm not 856 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 suggesting we should keep all commitments just because of fear of that. I'm only adding a note of caution. -We obviously can't delineate here exact descriptions of justified commitment-changes or unjustified commitment-changes. In fact, that might distort the whole question. It is important for us, though, to affirm that a person can in good faith discern a call to change.commitment. That change can be accounted for in terms of fidelity, not infidelity~ There is a kind of fundamental obligation which each person has to discern in con-science what is the way of fidelity. And that is never an easy task. On the other hand, it is important for us to affirm that every difficulty experienced in commitment (even terrible suffering at times) does not signify either a need for change or a justification of change. -Before we go further into the question of difficulties in keeping com-mitments, could we say something more about the beginnings of com-mitment? When, for example, do we know that we are capable of making profound commitments? Whether commitments remain binding, and whether they prove to be fruitful, depends to a great extent on our capacity for making them wisely and well in the first place. -I' don't think we always kno~ when a commitment actually begins. Its begin-ning doesn't always coincide with an explicit making of a promise or a vow. Sometimes we experience commitment as something that has taken place in us before we become aware of it at a conscious level. I may one day discover, for example (perhaps on a day when I see you in great need of my help), that indeed I have given you my heart in friendship; and I can now choose to ratify the commitment I find I have already made. -We certainly would want to note that commitment does not always begin with its external legal or ceremonial declaration; The latter is surely impor-tant, but we all know of commitments made long before their public celebra-tion and of commitments which are finally made long after their public form has been sealed. -If we look at the kind of maturity needed to make lifelong commitments, it is clear that certain healthy psychological levels of maturity are neededmand perhaps even faith levels of maturity. Yet I can't help resisting some of the present insistence on psychological, health as a basis for all commitment. While affirming it, I want to add that if the role of commitment is as we suggested earlier--namely, to help us to become whole in relation to another--then it cannot have full maturity or wholeness as its prerequisite. If I find commitment necessary for maturation (as does Eric Erikson, for example, in his presentation of the stages of human development), then it is clear that it cannot wait upon full maturity for its making. -That point must be made (with your same caution) in regard to Christian commitment as well. It probably bears pondering that Jesus declared, "I am not called to come to the healthy, but to those who are sick." And then there is Paul's reminder, "Who of you are well-born?" Though again I say this with the usual qualificati0.ns. Commitment in a Changing World / 857 -We might put ~the question this way: What kind of person makes a com-mitment? A strong person or a weak person? A person who is integrated or a person who is aware of fragmentation? I suspect our answer must grasp both alternatives. A person who makes a commitment wisely and well is one who is at home with himself or herself, who experiences' self-worth, etc. But perhaps also such a person experiences some uneasiness, some distress, some fragmentation. This relates to what we said before of the yearning of love to become whole, to deal with fragmentation. ,~ -We keep saying that commitment is a way of becoming whole, a way of growing in love. Clearly something more has to be seen in that regard, because we certainly have not in the past emphasized this aspect of commit-ment. The language of "states" of life, for example, was almost in opposi-tion to it. Now, it seems to me, we are trying to acknowledge that commit-ment (for example, in religious lifeor in marriage) does not mean that a love is once and for all sealed in union with the one loved. -Let me say something.here. I know people who think their first marriage is a 'trial run,' and then they enter a second and a third. Finally it dawns on them that it is marriage that is the problem; it's not the other person that's the problem. When I say marriage is the problem I don't mean here what some would mean--namely, that marriage undermines relationships, and'so forth. No, I mean that marriage is the way to relation, but if it isn't understood that way; it is no wonder that it doesn't work for many. If.t can put it this way, there is in marriage what many of you would understand as a kind of novitiate in selflessness. But that's only the beginning. -Yes, that's something of what I'm trying to say. Commitment is not the end of a story, but in a very real way the beginning (or at least an extremely im-portant point of impetus and direction along the way), We make com-mitments so that we may learn to love, grow in"love,,.There may be nothing more beautiful in all creation than a courageous love, but it is not born whole. The vows which have been characteristic of religious life or marriage, then, are ways of coming to love, means.for expanding one's mind and heart in order to grow into a great and wise love:. -But what assures that commitment will indeed lead that way? We simply must not pass over toolightly the very real problems that We saw earlier and that are being raised with sharpness and great credibility today. What if love finally is always unfaithful? What if the object of love finally always proves disappointing? What if commitment sours at least as often as it liberates? What if we who are created as always changing truly cannot bear the non-changing of commitment? -Wait a minute. Let me just say something about your last question. I think it is a pure and simple myth to say that our need for change can only be answered on a model of changing from one commitment to another (or remaining uncommitted, as I guess we described it before). In fact,.the ex-ample of this that we have had--Lifton's Protean mannis a perfect example of an experience of not changing. Let me explain what I mean. Protean man, 1~58 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 ~presumably, finds in each commitment he makes an inevitable ceiling--on his desires, his interest, his belief. Every time he engages himself in some project or in some love he comes to an end in an experience of inertia, dis-illusionment, lack of life. This proves intolerable--for it is indeed an ex-perience of the stopping of process and change in his life. To be free of this, he moves to yet another project or person. But notice that through this mov-ing from one thing to another he finally ends in cynicism, sadness, and a sense of the absurd. That hardly sounds like an overall experience of a living process! The truth is that within himself there is no process. Moving fran-tically from one thing to an6ther looks like life-process, but it never touches him inwardly; within himself he does not change. Nothing really is happen-ing inside. The possibility of something really new coming intoobeing, of real change in the heart of the self, may only occur in the process which commit-ment entails. Does that make any sense? -It may make more sense if you can say something more positive about what this process within commitment is. -Maybe we have to say something about the fabric of time which in a way forms the inner structure of commitment. In a way commitment," as everyone asserts, transcends time. It does have an element of the non-temporal-- or the eternal, if you will, or the non-changing (if that category is important to you).This is especially clear in a permanent commitment. -Isn't that what we mean when we say "forever?" We intend it as a way of transcending time rather than as a time statement~ We're saying, it seems to me, that "I will not let the 'conditions of time or the circumstances at the level of duration erode that which I now say about myself to you," -Yes, but let me quickly add that there is also in commitment, even and perhaps especially in permanent commitment, an element that is wholly tem-poral- that is, a reality that is stretched out and changing in time. Now this is to say that something is on the one hand. eternal about commitment, and something is on the other hand changing. Or better, something about the whole reality of the commitment radically changes. It might help to talk about it in terms of stepping into a relationship with the other. When I make a commitment to another person, I step into a new relationship with him or her. This relati6nship is qualified radically as "forever." I have given my word, and thus myself, in a way that is forever. Yet I, on my sideof the rela-tion, will change, and the one who rec(ives my word, on the other side of the relation, will also change through time. This means that the relation, too, will change: It does not, however, change into non-relation. It is qualified in new ways--for example, by a growth in intimacy. Certain aspects of the relation may emerge and others recede. One might almost draw an analogy between virtue in an individual person and virtue in a relationship. In both realities there is development, and we need a language to describe the growth of thee reality of relation as well as the growth of the reality of an individual person. Perhaps the virtue of a relationship is intimacy. -That makes a lot of sense. Your picture of commitment gets to the on- Commitment in a Changing World / 859 tological. I am now in relation to someone. I could never go back to the self that I was before the commitment except by saying that I now formally step out of the realm of being which has been created by the commitment. Even then I do not go back to that self, for I am forever in some way qualified by having made the commitment. It is my self that really changes, yet remains myself. ~ -Yes. Could I try to say it again? When I make a commitment a new reality begins--the reality of relation to another. Then it is this relation that remains, but moves through time, changing, hopefully growing. It is not a reality separate from myself, nor an appendage to myself. It is myself in relation. As it grows, so do I become new, again and again, yet more fully and wholly what ,I already, am. -Could we add that aspects of growth and change include dimensions of the total personality--imagination, memory, feeling? -Now we are in a position to look at the negatives in commitment. If it in-volves life-process, then the diminishments experienced within it must have the possibility of being taken up into that process. We surely experience, for example, our commitments being choked of their life, or distracted from their life, or overwhelmed in some way. W( know what it means to have barriers grow up in the commitment-relation. In one sense, we must learn a kind of creativity in the liying out of commitment. If it is a way, then we must learn what it means to go along that way. So we must learn creative ways to deal with what chokes us, what irritates us, what renders us helpless. Too little time and attention have been given to learning such things. Perhaps this is because we did not see clearly enough that commitment is a way that must be gone along. -There is something else that arises in the process of commitment, and which is experienced as negative. I've been thinking a long time about this because I've watched so many people go through it. I've experienced it myself in small ways, too, and I think there are clues to be gotten which will tell us how to deal with it. I'm not talking about the exlSerie.nce of being angered or frustrated, and so forth. The only way I can describe it is in terms of being "unhitched" from commitment. It's like driving along in a cart with a horse drawing it, and then the hors~ becomes loose, unhitched, and off it goes on its glorious way, leaving you sitt~ing there. It's like the world going on, or the community going on, and you are left simply sitting there. But in this in-stance it is your life that is somehow sepa.r_ated from you. Perhaps it could also be described as an experience of a.vacuum. Nothing is happening, nothing changes. The lid is on the future, so that it closes in on you. The past is somehow cut off from you and left behind only to.be stared at from a dis-tance. All sense of really living is gone. You become an observer of your life, only able to watch yourself doing what you.do, not able to enter into your own life as a participant. As soon as we back off and only watch ourselves living our lives, it is all over, .unless we discover how to enter into it again. In a sense what must be done is more than "renewing commitment." It is rather 860 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 like jumping out of the cart and running after the horse. All 1 can do is use these figures of speech to describe this experience. It is the experience I have '-heard countless persons describe as "something missing." There must be ways to redeem even such time, to make it fruitful in the life-process which is our commitment-relation. Once again, however, we have not yet done much to help one another to find such ways. -Is.all of this to say that it is not possible to truly keep a commitment (if it is a commitment to love) unless we learn the ways of nurturing its life, of freeing our own life and love within and through it? Commitment is a way to love and freedom, but the present task is to chart more clearly the yet shadowed way which it is. I suppose we have said from the beginning in our discussions together that the way is constituted somehow by both light and darkness. It is, as others have said, the darkness which raises the question of fidelity--fidelity which is not just gritting one's teeth and remaining con-stant, but which continues to believe in the light once seen andto watch and to wait and in some sense to serve that light even though we are not at times ourselves able to see it. Some discussion ensued as to how commitment may have the power to un-leash in us the springs of love and action. Attention was given to the role of forgiveness in the life-process of commitment. Finally, however, the .par-ticipants turned to a set of questions which had arisen from time to time throughout the sessions. These questions centered on communal dimensions of commitment, the implications of commitment for society at large, and the ex-istential, concrete framework for commitment. IV. The Institutionalization of Commitment When a commitment is made, it takes life in space and time, a given historical setting and era, within a framework provided by the free decision of the participants, community relationships, society and culture at large. Therefore, when we talk about a commitment to love God or another person, we have to deal with certain structures to which we commit ourselves as well. In this portion of their discussion the participants considered specific, issues regarding membership requirements for religious communities, structural changes and their implications for a community's understanding of its bwn commitment, and so forth. This led to a consideration of underlying questions of priority in commitments, implementation of commitments, and Church regulation of religious life and of marriage. A continuing focus was on the in-carnati0nal dimension of commitment. -A lot of what we,have said so.far applies most clearly to a commitment to love--to love God and to love another person or persons. But there is a whole area which"is just as problematic today as the fundamental commit-ment to love. That's the area of the structures we commit ourselves to--the structures which are, in a w.ay, part and parcel of our commitment to love because they are the concrete forms of living and acting that we commit Commitment in a Changing World ourselves to as an expression of love and as a means to love. Now, for exam-ple, I know many young religious today who have no problem with knowing themselves called to and responding in an unconditional commitment to God. But they have a lot of problems with the structures they find that com-mitment tied to in, for example, a given religious community. I'm just think-ing of some that I have lived with. They understand their permanent com- ~.mitment very differently from the way I understood it (and perhaps the way I understand it now). They see that the only absolute commitment they make is to God, and if they perceive that God calls them beyond their present religious community, then they must leave it (though I'm not saying that they're planning on doing that--only that it remains open as a possibility). -Well, in a sense there can be no denying the validity of that view. It is only God who can call us to absolute love and commitment. All other com-mitments are (or at least in a Christian view should be) relative to a commit-ment to God. The .problem is in discerning what "relative" means here. It means, of course, "related to." It means that the whole raison d'etre for them is their prior commitment to God. But it can also mean that the com-mitment'to God is in some way essentially expressed in these other com-mitments. It surely means, when we are talking about commitment to love other persons, that those commitments (at least to love, if not to live in cer-tain patterns of life expressive of that love) are forever--just as our commit-ment for God is forever. -There are many Sides to this question, and they are all in some sense perplex-ing. We can't on the one hand keep moving through life saying our commit-ment is to God and never really give ourselves to anyone else or never really yield our love for God to .concrete enduring patterns of life which express that love. On the other hand, our commitment to God cannot reify itself in a narroffly defined, immediate context which we refuse to see can and sometimes must be modified in order to be faithful to God. -The question is perplexing in the concrete, but at least what we have said thus far about priority of commitments, the relation of one commitment to another, etc., seems fairly clear to me in theory. -But concretely, we have to take account of the testimony of persons who are anguished now in their discernment of what is fidelity and what is infidelity. We mentioned those who perceive their call from God in a way that makes them necessarily chafe against certain patterns of life and activity which their community may still think are important. But there are also persons who feel that the religious community to Which they committed themselves has changed so much that they can no longer in conscience remain faithful within it. And then there is the problem of the dissonance not only between individual and community but between community and Church. We all know of the tension often felt now by communities within the Church who wish to see their fidelity to God in terms of fidelity to the Church, and yet who find a strange disparity at times between the two. If we didn't take any of these~ seriously--if tlie pattern of our commitments was not seen by us as a62 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/6 im, portantly interwoven--we could opt for whatever we wanted at any time. But we obviously, both in marriage and in religious life, are offered the task by the Spirit today of finding the ways of fidelity within a whole pattern of relationships, ~all of which are held in our relation to,God. -I want to say that this kind of tension, even the experience of being "regulated," can work both ways. If everybody got up every morning and defined marriage or religious life in their own way, there would be chaos. Or more importantly, there would be total isolation. We can neither ignore our tradition, our interrelationships, our call, ultimately, to communion with all persons, nor distort it by mindless submission to what was intended as a point of interpersonal discernment and response. -You know, it might help to look at this for a moment as if we were discern-ing for ourselves, within the Church, what God is calling us to. After all, there is a sense in which we can do what we want within the Church. Groups of persons can discern themselves called in many different ways, and as long as these ways are authentic ways of living the Christian life they are free to embrace them, and to embrace them communally. The issue of canonical recognition is not necessarily a central issue--certainly not for everyone in the Church. If I want to live in poverty or chastity or obedience for three years and three years only, I can do it, and the Church doesn't say aye or nay. If I want to live celibacy but not poverty (in the usual sense), I can do it, and again the Church will neither command me nor forbid me. But it is ex-tremely important, it seems to me, to add that that does not rule out the possibility that some persons within the Church (myself included) will still want to gather up their whole future in a permanent commitment, and to make that commitment in terms of a life of poverty and celibacy and obedience within community. It is important that those who are called to that continue to find a way to celebrate it within the Church. Other forms of life may also need to be celebrated within the Church, but to be open to new ways need not (in fact, surely should not) mean to close off present ways. -Yes, I can affirm that and add that, within this context, there still remain practical decisions for each community of persons such as you describe. For example, the ever recurring questions of whether a community should have associate members or temporary members or married members are questions that simply involve practical decisions (based on discernment in prayer, of course) for a community. -You mean that a community, for example, must discern for itself in terms of its understanding of its call from God and the individual ways in which its members are called to participate in that communal call--must discern whether it is to have an associate membership or a third order or some other departure from present practice? -Yes, why not? There is plenty of precedent for that kind of thing, and room for many variations on a theme. Different cultural contexts, different com-munal ministries, and many other factors will all make a difference in a corn, munity's discernment of such things. There is no one law written in heaven Commitment in a Changing Worm / 863 about them to which all must conform. But it is important that a community take seriously a truly communal discernment and decision in this regard. Or even if a community postpones decisions on some of these kinds of questions, it is important for it to know why it postpones them. -If we agree that structures must follow on life experience, perhaps this is the time in history to reflect on the experience we now have of members who would prefer a status other than that conferred by "final vows"; that is, they want to renew their vows every three years or so in an "ongoing com-mitment." If we would re-structure our communities to include a core group and a transient group, we would eliminate some of the necessity for dispen-sations with their negative connotations. Maybe this is the Spirit directing these young people and somehow we as a church have to respond to them. -I think I agree in principle, but somehow I'm wondering wherewe are as a "core group" right now. There is the real question of where we are right now: is there strength at the center, so that the core could truly enliven the whole structure? I mean I can only think of a half dozen people that I really think are the core. By the core group I do not mean people who are going to stay in religious life; I am talking about those who are alive enough to share life in some way. This is not a pessimistic view, it's just saying that right now we are in a phase where it may be necessary to get ourselves together first. On the other hand, maybe extending membership to.associates may be a way of getting ourselves together. -I worry, though, about 'the traditional problems of first and second class citizens. You have to have a tremendous inner peace and sense of who you are and what you are about to avoid those kinds of difficulties. -As a matter of fact, it has been a policy in our religious community since 1971 thatwe would permit women who wished to do so to associate themselves with us in a kind of informal membership. The thought was that if we permitted this to develop spontaneously :for a few years, we would ac-cumulate enough data to enable us to structure something which would be mutually supportive and realistic. However, after more than two years we did a survey and found out that the total number of such applicants was almost zero. So should we go out and recruit them? How do you strike a middle ground between permitting something to emerge and institutionaliz-ing it prematurely? -One way traditionally has b~en to find ways to share the religious com-munity's gifts, to share life with others through retreats, courses in 'spiriiuality, days of prayer, collaboration in ministry, etc. In this way sodalities and third orders have originated, informally at first, and then more formally. The spirit of the religious community and its characteristic spirituality is shared with a larger circle of people who may then desire a kind of membership or more formal association. -You mentioned the characteristic spirituality of a religious community . There is some talk today about the blurring of distinctions between various communities and between celibates and non-celibates, clerics and non- 064 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 clerics, so that conceivably institutional distinctions could be wiped out. On the one hand, the elimination or relativization of distinctions emphasizes the basic Unity of Christians; on the other hand, the individual groups emphasize the rich diversity of gifts and graces. I think this is a situation ~where we should proceed somewhat pragmatically, not rushing to reduceall religious communities to one group, but rather asking ourselves what is congruous .with the unity and diversity of the gospel. Religious communities are distinct in this, at least, that their members have freely joined them, rather than be-ing born into them, and this deliberate choice is a kind of witness. -Yes~, we have to ask ourselves, what do we experience ourselves being called to, individually and as a community? What we designate as the "essentials" and the "accidentals" of our commitment should be a reflection of that call. And the fact that religious life was institutionalized in the form of certain es-sentials and accidentals tells us that, at least in the past and apparently to some extent today, people feel themselves called in terms of certain specific graces; for example, they are called to a life of celibacy or to evangelical poverty or to,live in community in Christ's name. -Another aspect of the institutionalization of commitments and their public expression is its value to society itself. We sense that somehow there is some damage to the objective order when a commitment is betrayed. Somehow . the fabric of s~ociety, of the whole body--be it the body politic or the Body of Christ--is strengthened or weakened by our fidelity to, or our betrayal of, commitment. The climate of mutual trust is strengthened or weakened. -Many people find their ability to remain faithful enhanced or threatened by the presence or absence of community support. Ongoing commitment in-volves continuous re-election, re-commitment, re-selection, and all of those . with whom and to whom we have committed ourselves figure in this process. Maybe the parable of the seed falling on good ground and on rocky ground, and so forth, is helpful here. For example, it seems to me not impossible that oa community could be bad ground. It could be the cause of the death of someone's commitment within him; if the community demanded too much from him or distracted him in some way, it could choke the commitment. Or the community COuld be just a dry wasteland. ~On the positive side, the community could be very fertile .soil indeed. If I were to describe the kind of support that I would expect or appreciate on a day-to-day level, I wouldn't look for high points such as the discussion we've been having these days. What~ I would look for in the members of my com-munity would be a kind of resonance, a sense that they were in sympathy with what I was doing, and supported, the .efforts I was ~making. I want to share a, common understanding with the members of my community about such things as who we are as a community, and why we are together, even though it isn't necessary to articulate it very .often. -But besides furnishing one another that basic affirmation, there also has to be an openness to the new, a willingness to challenge one another to reach for greater heights of generosity. I guess religious have to call one another to Commitment in a Changing World faith, as well as calling other members of the Christian community. -Perhaps our concept of ministry has to be re-thought or re-integrated into the Christian synthesis in terms of a call to faith. We have described commit-ment in terms of "radicality" and the committed person in terms of "marginality" vis-a-vis certain cultural norms which are often uncritically accepteduthese terms suggest a kind of presence, a~ very challenging and a personal presence. It isn't so much a question of the apostolate being done, but of understanding and living fully the kind of lives we are called, to and sharing that. Flowing out of that will be specific kinds of service: the healing ministry, teaching, or whatever. -Yes, there is a correlation between the diversity of commitment and diversity in ministry. Sometimes the stance of love is to stand alone, to be in protest; sometimes the stance is to .be a mediator, or to be co-opted in some way. Even while we're allowing for individual insights and calls within Ch°ristian service, there's such a thing as the total stance of the community. Sotit still seems important to me that we have the reference points of some specifications of commitment. Whatever the stance is, whatever it is that we're about, however we try to blend our lives together, it has something to do with being poor, something to do with celibate fLiendship, something to do with abandoning ourselves in union with the obedience of Jesus Christ which .at least implies listening to something beyond ourselves. Further reflections of the participants concerned the relationship of com-mitment and ministry and the necessity of a genuine interiority in apostolic service. Throughout the discussion there was a sense that the multitude of commitments which an individual, makes must be integrated in their inward reality and their outward expression. Toward a Conclusion As with every good discussion, the participants ended with a touch of reluc-tance: there was a sense of incompleteness, a desire to explore further paths only noted in passing, to qualify assertions that were perhaps too confident or too hesitant, and to raise new questions which might expand, the, horizons of understanding. Hence the discussion eludes neat summarization and does not provide ready solutions or conclusions. Some.threads did recur again and again, however, and it may be helpful to recall them here. First of all, promising is a persistent phenomenon. Despite all of the dif-ficulties attendant on making a commitment today and of living it out faithfully in an ever-changing context, people are still making them. Hence, the need to commit oneself to another seems to spring from some deep human need and instinct, something deeper than a merely cultural basis would ex-plain. Moreover, the participants in this discussion shared among themselves a strong "commitment to commitment": while they were not unmindful of the risks and hazards of commitment, they all affirmed its possibility and value in human life. Furthermore, they affirmed that interpersonal commitment must a66 / Review for. Religious, !/olume 34, 1975/6 be understood as the beginning of a relationship, a relationship that can be ex-pected to unfold gradually, in response to new circumstances. Such an evolv-ing relationship may well include periods of darkness and dryness which must be integrated into the whole dynamism of growth. As commitments move through time, there are tensions inherent in their continued existence, tensions between continuity and change, fragmentation and unity, spontaneity and pattern, contract and gift. In the face of our~per-sonai experience of fragmentation and conflict, we experience simultaneously the inability and the need to pledge our word. The framework which society and community furnish for our commitments may be experienced at one time as supportive and at another as restrictive. We may feel drawn by an invitation or bound by a legal agreement. Furthermore, our ability to commit ourselves deeply and without reserve is intimately linked to our own sense of self-identity and self-worth. The context of commitment is also integral to its nature: our promises must be incarnated in space and time. While structures follow life, they can also be supportive of life. That is, commitments should only~be formalized or institutionalized if they are genuine and viable, but then the framework which community ~and society provide must support them. Although structures are relative, the process of changing them should be a thoughtful and prayerful one. There is no virtue in either changing structures or in leaving them un-changed; what is important is their congruity to gospel, to the needs of our day, and to our fallible human resources. Where do we go from here?'The really basic questions~in life have a way of reasserting themselves again and again under new guises, and requiring fresh attention. Perhaps this is because the only entirely satisfactory response to such life-questions is the personal one, made in the context of one,s own relationships of family, community, and society, Each of us must question the possibility and value of a lifetime commitment in his or her own iife~: can I live a fully human and a fully Christiah life without it? BIBLIOGRAPHY Beha, Marie, O.S.C. "Paradoxes of Commitment," Sisters Today, 46 (August-September, 1974), ¯pp. I-9. Burrell, David, C.S.C. "A Fresh Look at 'Perpetual Commitment,' "Sisters Today, 41 (April, 1970), pp. 457-461. ~ Clarke, Thomas E., S.J. "Jesuit Commitment--Fraternal Covenant?" Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, II1 (June, 1971),'pp. 70-102. ~. "The Crisis of Permanent Consecration," Sisters Today, 41 (August-September, 1969), pp. 1-15. __. New Pentecost or New Passion? The Direction of Religious Life Today. New York: Paulist Press, 1973. Coville, Walter J. "The Psychological Development of Tentative Commitment to the Priesthood and the Religious'~ Life," Seminary Department Relevant Report. National Catholic Educational Association (June, 1972). Commitment in ,a Changing World / 867 Farley, Margaret A., R.S.M. A Study in the Ethics of Commitment within the Context of Theories of Human Love and Temporality. Unpublished Ph.D. Dissertation. Yale Univer-sity, 1973. Haughey, John C., S.J: "Another Perspective on Religious Commitment," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, 111 (June, 1971), pp. 103-119: Keniston, Kenneth. The Uncommitted. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1960. Lifton, Robert Jay. "Protean Man." The Religious Situation 1969. Edited by Donald R. Cutler. Boston: Beacon Press, 1969. Marcel, Gabriel. Creative Fidelity. New York: Farrar, Straus, & Giroux, 1964. __. Being and Having, New York: Harper Torchbooks, 1965. Murphyr David M., ed. Seminary Newsletter, Supplement No. 3. National Catholic Educational Association (November, 1973). Orsy, Ladislas M., S.J. "Religious Vocation: Permanent or Temporary?" Sisters Today, 40 (February, 1969), pp. 347-349. Toffler, Alvin. Future Shock. New York: Random House, 1970. Van Kaam, Adrian, C.S.Sp. "'Life of the Vows: Commitment to a Lasting Life Style." Envoy, V (September, 1968), pp. 125-131. Westley, Richard J. "Fidelity and the Self," Sisters Today, 45 (April, 1973), pp: 482-489. __. "On Permanent Commitment," Ame~'ica (May 24, 1969). __. "The Will to Promise," Humanitas, VIII (February, 1972), p. 9-20. (N.B.: This entire issue of Humanitas is devoted to articles on "Commitment and Human Development.") Space Fora Rose: Spiritual Ecology Sister Mary Seraphim, P.C.P.A. Sister Mary Seraphim is a Poor Clare of Perpetual Adoration and resides in the Sancta Clara Monastery; 4200 Market Ave., N.; Canton, OH 44714. "Time, then, is but the space for a rose to open to fullness." What is this element, time, which surrounds, sustains, measures and secures our existence? We cannot escape it under pain of death but we can never possess it securely. Money does not buy it nor can poverty prevent it. We love it but fume against its restraints. We are meant to transcend it but can only do so by fully integra.ting ourselves into it. Time is our most basic need if we are to be. We are born into time, :grow in its unfolding moments, die When our allotted span has been consumed. It is such a pervasive "given" that we take it for granted. God designed time as the cradle and matrix for His marvelously conceived creature: man. God does not need time to exist but He willed that humankind should need it. For man to exist as God dreamed him to be, he had to have time. There was a moment when he began to be--but he was not com-plete in that first moment. H.appily God does not expect him to be. For man is intended to delight God and His angels by coming to fullness in successive stages. Step by ~tep, we are to grow and develop. We could not do this without time. We could do it without clocks, perhaps, but not without the successive stages of change which time is. Kicking Against the Crib Somehow, somewhere, many of us have begun to harbor a rebellion against time, At least, I have, I began to see time as an uncontrollable tyrant which ruled me, drove me or caged me. I rebelled against it but, of course, quite uselessly. I could neither speed it up nor slow it down. Like a child in 868 Space for a Rose / a69 frustrated rage, I kicked against the very thing which should have been my security and source of hope. I failed to see time for what it really is: the shelter my Father has provided for me until I can~bear exposure to eternity. A sister-psychologist once gave a descriptive definition of time as that which allows things to happen bit by bit, Unless there existed the restraining and apportioning hand of time, everything would happen all at once.t I have enough difficulty trying to cope with troubles one by one. To have to face them all at one time? No thank you! Stop .Kicking and Look Gradually I began to wonder if it would be good to take a long and thoughtful look at this phenomenon known as time. Since it pervades my whole life as necessarily as the air I 'breathe, it seemed to merit some con-sideration. "I'll do it as soon as I have time," I decided. But come to think of it, time, like the poor, we always have with us! It was not that I had no time but that I was unwilling to use the time I had for that purpose. Revelation the first; I always have time. What am I doing with it? When I began to consider time,' I grew to be immensely grateful to my Father for this wondrous girl, Without it, I could not be me for I am a person who is always in the process of becoming. Like a rose~ I~need space to unfold; to happen. Fullness of being is not mine all at once or as asure possession. It is a gift Iam trying to grow into with each new second that is granted to me. Life is being continually re-given. And that, not from a distant heaven but by the Spirit of the Lord hovering, brooding over me. Indeed~ with each new breath I draw, this gift rises up from a wellspring inside me. It is the Spirit who breathes in me, who continues to hold me in being. And I take all this for granted ! What if all my being were given to me at once? Like the angels. Whatever I did I would do with my whole self--but only once. There would be no second doing, no future in which to try again, and, hopefully, do better: There would not be any hope! Instead my Father has allowed that I come to be bit by bit. I grow slow!y to maturity, making mistakes but learning as I go along.All the while I am sheltered, protected by the framework of time which keeps things~from closing in on me. Events happen at a pace and rhythm I am familiar with. Even when things seem to be coming at me too fast, I am called:to meet them only mo- ~ment by moment. It is when I .misuse my ability to mentally transcend time that I get into difficulties, Here and Only Now When I begin to picture future events (usually only possible ones) in the present mo.ment, I begin to get panicky. But if I am honest, I must admit that this not being truly reasonable. My Father may, or may not, have planned this imagined calamity as part of my future. But obviously He has not planned it as part of my present. He has grace for me to.handle the present events and that 870 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 is all He is asking of me. When the future becomes the present, it will bring with it all: its attendant graces. If I persist in projecting myself mentally into a non-existent future, I shall indeed have trouble--but not necessarily the kind that sanctifies. More likely, it will bethe type to foster neurosis! The same rule applies if I choose to live over a past that is no more. A child lives in wonder and contentment largely because he lives very much in the present. A small child has very little past to remember and an almost completely unknown future to contemplate. His horizons are limited to today--and, he is for the most part, happy. Do you recall those idyllic days of childhood when days were very long and a week a duration of unimaginable length? To wake in the morning was a thrilling moment (at least it was for me) with the gift of a whole day before me. What would happen that day I could hardly guess but I looked forward to finding out. As the years went by, the luster dimmed and I began to carry accumulated memories and worries into my new day. I began to darken the dawn by projecting storm clouds of anxiety onto the horizon. Joy and wonder went out of my life to a large degree. But Jesus said, "Unless you become as little children." Does that mean He wants us to live each new day as if it were the only one I have--as indeed it is? Yesterday is simply that--yesterday. Tomorrow--that never comes, as the wise man truly said. Here I am with today, just today. It will unfold minute by minute and along with it so shall I. The strong bulwark of time is here to insure that it shall not move faster or slower than I am designed for. There may be grave problems to be met along this unreeling road but they shall not fill every second--unless I allow them. There shall be many tiny islands of pleasure, comfort, joy to be met with too. I can limit the black times to their respective moments by simply letting them go when their time is past. About Pain . I read an account of an incident at Lourdes which has ever since remained an inspiration to me. A pilgrim--a priest, I believe--saw a little boy in one of the invalid stretchers. The child was in such a pitiful condition that the pilgrim was deeply moved and inquired gently how he could stand so much pain. The boy looked up with a bright smile and answered serenely, "It is not hard for I can stand today's pain. I don't have yesterday's anymore and tomorrow's is not here." For all those who have to cope with pain (and who of us does not?) these are words of ageless wisdom. Many have written of the problem of pain or more accurately of the mystery of pain. These theological and psychological studies are very helpful insofar as they provide us with a partial insight into the why and wherefore of suffering in our lives. We all find things easier to bear when they have meaning. But when it comes down to the actual bearing of pain day after day, nothing is more practical than the simple rule of "one day at a time." This may not sound very profound but it is effective wisdom. No matter what kind of pain we have, mental, physical or moral, we can cope with it most effec- Space for a Rose tively when we accept and live with it only moment by moment. For those peo-ple whose pain offers no proximate solution, the temptation to be overwhelmed by it is very real. Especially if it is a combination of physical and mental torments, as it usually is. We can lighten the burden for ourselves and others if we keep our eyes fixed on the God who doles out our life and breath one second at a time. In the same measure He supplies us with His grace, not only to bear but to embrace the pain in our lives. Unpolluted Time We should not pollute the gift of time with a compulsive attitude of rush and of works which absolutely must be done now. Time is the atmosphere of our souls. We must strive to keep it pure. This depends much more on our in-ner attitudes than on the circumstances around us. We don't always have con-trol over outside events but we can exercise control over our attitudes towards them. If you find yourself, as I often discover myself, unconsciously pushing time in order to get to the next event; the next assignment; the next problem, then something needs a bit of adjustment. We are missing the present moment toward which we pressed so eagerly yesterday. And in missing this moment we are missing the God who is waiting for us right now. We think we will find Him next time we are in church, or we will find Him tomorrow, and so we press on, hurry past Him and then wonder why He seems so absent from our lives. He is not absent; we are! Our lives are only a shell of half-lived moments and we are poor; poor and empty. This is not, however, the poverty of spirit which Jesus praised. If we realized how needy we are, we would receive the gift of each moment with grateful wonder and would not dare to abuse it by seeking another time or place. The phrase "spiritual ecology" comes to mind. We can create a beautiful environment for our spirit if we settle down and listen to the message of our beating heart. One beat at a time--not all of them at once (hopefully) and we are living healthily. We breathe in our needed amount of air .this minute and continue to live. Should not this tranquil rhythm permeate our spiritual living also? We have a luxurious amount of time--enough to last our whole lives! But we need to deepen our appreciation of it. Instead of bemoaning the limits it necessarily sets to our activiti,es, even our most spiritual ones, we should joyfully accept the room it makes for all of them. One half-hour is not a very long time for prayer but it can be most rich if each of its thirty complete minutes is cherished in their presence. Our God comes to us only in time. He Loves Time In Jesus' life, we see Him functioning with beautiful tranquillity within the framework of time. He appreciates it; He respects it. He waits patiently for the "hour" which His Father has appointed for Him. Jesus does not try to an-ticipate the time the Father has decreed. He awaits it with composure and uses to their full all the intervening hours and moments in His life. There is an ira- 872 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 portant task to be accomplished but Jesus sees that it is meant to be fulfilled by living and loving fully each successive, day. He moves in wide spaces of freedom; so gracious and spacious we think Him touched by eternity. But He found, eternity in the present moment. So can we. God does not do all He wants to do in us as soon as we ask. He has a definite "hour" in mind for us. He comes to meet us at special times in our lives which we cannot anticipate. We may only humbly await them. Sometimes His hour is one of special revelation of HimSelf--or of ourselves. It may be the hour of crushing trial or of joyous unexpected fulfillment. One hour surely awaits all of us, the most decisive one of our lives--our last. We shall scarcely be alive to these extraordinary hours of grace unless we have heard and heeded His word, "My time is at hand," in each ordinary hour of our lives. To develop a healthy spiritual e~ology is not complicated but it requires self-discipline. Our wandering, rushing mind and body must be slowed down, We must deliberately cloister our spirits in the gentle haven of right now. Then we shall walk in wonder and awe before a world most rich and beautiful. Time to See. and B~ If I rush into our enclosed garden determined to get a brisk walk in before 1 do more important things, I shall never see the garden. It shall remain "enclosed" also to me. But if I step out into the sunshine, reveling in the full five minutes my Father has given me, I shall walk with gratitude and wide-open eyes. I shall see the white butterflies with one black spot on each wing dance over the pink zinnias. I shall be able to laugh at the bumblebee who gets snapped at by the snapdragon it was so cautiously opening for nectar. And when these precious five minutes have elapsed I shall be refreshed and alive both physically and spiritually. My Father knows that a rose needs space to unfold, even a wild rose. How good of Him to provide me this room in His mansion of many dimensions, As I write these lines, the cicadas have momentarily stopped singing in the heat. Only the white butterflies are ecstatically circling each other among the blue petunias. It is very quiet., and very good in this moment. The New Law Versus The Gospel Jerome Murphy-O'Connor, O.P. Father Murphy-O'Connor is Professor of'New Testament at the Ecole Biblique de J~rusalem, P.O.B. 178, Jerusalem, Israel. By bringing the prescriptions regarding religious in the New Code of Canon Law to the attention of those who will have to li~e under them Father Kevin O'Rourke has rendered an immensely valuable service.~ Without his ad-mirably objective translations and summaries, the dialogue which should be an integral characteristic of the Christian community would be difficult, if not - impossible. His own evaluation rightly gives credit to the new spirit which animates the revision of this part of the Code, and his censure of the revisors' refusal to accept input from religious is well merited. However, his observation that "A new law can be well designed and constructed, but unless the people think it is 'their' law, it will not be observed as well as if they had some hand in its formulation''2 needs to be taken further. Dissatisfaction can be generated by failure to observe democratic procedures, but a more profound and lasting resentment is awakened when laws do not correspond to the self-understanding of the people they govern. Hence, the need to penetrate behind the statements of the New Code to the theology .of religious life that they embody, It is imperative that the revisors' assumptions regarding the nature of religious life be brought out into the open and subjected to searching debate, because once the New Code is promulgated it will inevitably tend to impose its vision of religious life. Despite the principle of subsidiarity which gives great latitude to particular institutes, it would be ~"The New Law for Religious: Principles, Content, Evaluation," Review for Religious 34 (1975) 23-49. =Art. cit., p. 49. 873 874 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 dangerously naive.to assume that the~e will not be pressures to make the con-stitutions of individual congregations conform to the "spirit" of the New Code. Should the revisors' vision of religious life be defective it will frustrate the work of renewal that has begun with so much pain and heart-searching. The advances that have been made will be gradually nullified, and the ground-work will have been laid for a repetition of the crisis that rocked religious con-gregations in the recent years. This danger, in my opinion, is not theoretical but very real. Despite their evident good intentions, the revisors assume an inadequate concept of religious life which has done untold damage in the past. In making this criticism I base myself on the truth that the religious life is but a particular manifestation of the Christian life. In consequence, it must faithfully reflect the pattern of Christian life laid down in the New Testament, and no theology of religious life can be considered adequate unless it successfully integrates 'all the insights of the New Testament. This point has been made explicitly by Vatican II: "Since the fundamental norm of the religious life is a following of Christ as proposed by the gospel, such is to be regarded by all communities as their supreme law" (Perfectae Caritatis, n. 2). When judged against this standard the revisors' understanding of religious life not only fails to reach the ideal proposed by the gospel but on occasion contradicts it. The Definition of Consecrated Life As given by Father O'Rourke, the first canon reads as follows: Life consecrated through the profession of the evangelical counsels is a stable form of life, by which the faithful, following Christ more closely, are dedicated totally to God loved above all, so that by a new and special title they are ordered to the honor of God, to the salvation of the world, and to the building up of the (~hurch, seek the perfection of charity in the service of the kingdom of God, and become clear signs in the Church foretelling heavenly glory. Which form of living in institutes of perfection, constituted under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and canonically erected by the competent authority of the Church the faithful freely accept, who through vows or other sacred bonds, profess to observe according to the particular law of these institutes the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and ~ obedience, and who are united to the mystery of the Church in a special way by charity, to which the counsels lead. The elements I have italicized in this definition call for comment. (a) "Following Christ more closely (they) are dedicated totally to God." Since this canon has the form of a definition, these phrases can only mean that by definition religious follow Christ more closely and are, by definition, totally dedicated. They cannot be interpreted as meaning that religious should follow Christ more closely and should be completely dedicated to God. The canon, therefore, states that religious are better Christians than other believers. A view that makes sense only in virtue of the assumption that the form of life chosen by religious is of itself superior to that of other Christians. The revisors, therefore, revert to the concept of religious life as a state of perfec-tion, a concept that was deliberately abandoned by Vatican II. Dedication to The New Law Versus the Gospel / 875 God manifested in the following of Christ is exclusively a question of charity, and has no intrinsic relationship to any particular pattern of life. To imitate Christ means to love as He did, and the degree of perfection reached in such imitation is conditioned only by the quality of love that is actually displayed. (b) "United to the mystery of the Church in a special manner by charity. '° Charity is specifically mentioned here, but the meaning of the phrase is anything but clear, because charity has a unifying effect only between persons. In the strict sense one cannot be united through love to an institution. If the revisors intended to speak of the bond of charity which should obtain between the members of the Church they could have expressed themselves much less ambiguously. It may well be, however, that the vagueness was deliberate, and that the phrase was intended to be suggestive rather than meaningful. In the light of the previous paragraph the purpose can only be to insinuate that religious occupy a special place in the Church. Yet the second canon insists that religious do not pertain to the hierarchical structure of the Church. Hence, while affirming that religious belong to the laity, the revisors make a distinction between two groups of laity and, incredibly, the basis of the distinc-tion is claimed to be charity. By definition, therefore, religious are more perfect in charity than other members of the Church. Since this is manifestly untrue in terms of actual loving, one can only conclude that the revisors operated on the assumption that religious are more perfect in virtue of their state. This, the most natural interpretation, ~is confirmed by the fact that the charity in question is that "to which the counsels lead." (c) "The evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience." Because all the other meaningful elements in the definition apply equally to all Christians, it is clear that the revisors' understanding of religious life is based on the concept of the "evangelical counsels" which, according to the third canon, "are founded in the teaching and example of Christ." They suppose that some Christians are called to a higher level of practice than others, and that the acceptance of this option is a matter of free choice. Were this assump-tion correct it would certainly constitute a secure basis for the distinction that the revisors make between two groups of laity, but the fact is that it is in flat contradiction with the teaching of the New Testament. There is a formal consensus among scholars of all confessions that the New Testament does not discriminate between different types of Christians. It makes no provision for an "elite" because the divine demand is addressed equally to all, and the fundamental condition for the reception of baptism is the acceptance of this demand in its totality: All are imperatively summoned to the perfection of charity, and all are guilty to the extent that they fail to manifest the love which animated Christ. The so-called "counsels" are not offered to some. They are binding upon all. More specifically, there is nothing in the teaching of Jesus that can be con-strued as an exhortation to renounce material good or marriage.The poor are blessed, not because they are poor, but because the messianic era has arrived in 876 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/6 which their poverty will be relieved. The central thrust of the incident involving the Rich Young Man concerns faith, and the exhortation to sell all that he possessed pertains to his specific psychological state. The same condition for following Jesus is not imposed on the fishermen disciples. The statement con-cerning those who make themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven is' directed towards married persons, and deals with celibacy only to the extent that it concerns the celibacy forced on a sincere married Christian by the obligation to remain open in love to a spouse that has abandoned the marriage? All this is but the current coin of serious exegesis, and it is incredi-ble( given the emphasis on Scripture in Vatican II).that the revisors did not de-mand competent advice before declaring that "the profession of the evangelical, counsels" entailed "the renunciation of certain values which are to be undoubtedly esteemed" .(canon 4), I intend to return to the revisors' understanding of the vows, but enough has been said at this point to show that the revisors are completely mistaken in their comprehehsion of the so-called "evangelical counsels." Since this is the key~element in the definition and the basis of their assumptions concerning the state of perfection, it is evident that the whole definition is erroneous. In itself this is sufficient to compromise all that is said subsequently. Community It will be noted that community plays virtually no role in the above defini-tion. The function of the institute of perfection to which a religious belongs is to specify the precise conditions of the vows of lboverty~ chastity, and obedience. It has nothing to do with growth in love, with the salvation of the world, or with the building up of the Church. These duties all belong to the members taken as individuals, as the plural verbs indicate. The justification for this limitation appearsin Part II of the New Code where it becomes evi-dent that the above definition is intended to apply not only to religioUs com-munities but also to hermits and to secular institutes which are not bound to the common life. There is no doubt that both hermits and members of secular institutes lead consecrated lives, but there is no justification for the watering down of religious life that the revisors' quest for a common denominator necessarily involves. The community dimension of religious life' is pushed into the background with the result that the theology of religious life is completely distorted. By deciding to make the status of the individual the basis of the New Code the revisors have consecrated an individualism which is in radical con-tradiction with the teaching and example of Christ. If the fundamental status of believers is that of members of the Body of Christ how can they be treated as if they were autonomous entities? The revisors, of course, will reply that they consider individuals not in themselves but as belonging to various institutes of perfection. This is simply untrue in the case of the hermit whose only relationship is with a superior. 3For detailed justificfition of these statements, cf. my study What is Religious Life?, Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1973. The New Law Versus the Gospel / 877 Much could be said about this point. The assumption of the revisors is that the hermit can cut him or herself off entirely from the world. It would be ex-tremely difficult, if not impossible, to find any justification for this mod+ of life in the New Testament, and historically no hermit who achieved sanctity was ever totally separated from the world. People came to them with their problems and to learn the secrets of prayer with the result that they were in fact involved with a community. The member of a secular institute belongs officially to an institute of perfection, but the New Code glosses over the ambiguity of the ,word '.'belonging." The members "belong" to the institute in the sense of a legal relationship, but such a relationship can be real or ptlrely formal. A real relationship necessarily involves presence, because it is constituted by the reciprocity in need and response. For sincere Christians the most imperative needs are those about them, because they recognize that the situation in which they find themselves is God-given. Providence, therefore, imposes limits on the universality of charity. Both St. Augustine (De Doct: Christ., I, ch. 28) and St. Thomas Aquinas (II-II, q. 26, a. 6) were conscious of the need to prevent charity evaporating. The precept of charity towards all men"could be taken so literally that no one would be lo~;ed properly. Hence, with the immense com-monsense that is the characteristic of saints, Augustine said, "All men are to be loved equally, but since you cannot be useful to all, it is strongly advised that you concentrate on those who fortuitously are closest to you by reason of time, place, or any other circumstance." It is impossible to love all men, unless charity is understood as a vague theoretical attitude of openness, i.e., when be-ing prepared to love is equated with actual loving. The reality of charity is ac-curately defined by Augustine in terms of utility which implies service. Those to whom service is to be rendered are those whom God has placed in .our path through the providential circumstances of time and place. Jesus commanded "Love your neighbor as yourselt" (Mt 22, 39 and parallels), and all the texts which imply the universality of love are to be interpreted as prohibitions of dis-crimination. Hence, the community to which a Christian really belongs is con-stituted by those who are the actual fabric of his or her daily existence. No legal affiliation can break this fundamental evangelical bond, or be substituted for it. The members of secular institutes working alone belong less to the institute khan to their apostolic environment. Their commitment to intensifying the Christianity of that environment may differ in degree from that of the average layperson, but it is essentially the same. One has only to read the Sermon on the Mount to realize the extent to which every believer is obligated to be the ferment of love, And that love in. order to be real demands the reciprocity of sharing. To the extent that the members of secular institutes depend on their apostolic environment for physical and affective sustenance, and in turn con-tribute on both these levels, the vows of poverty and chastity become real. But this ~haring is only an intensification of the spiritual and corporal works of mercy to which all Christifins are obliged. Therefore, the community to which ~178 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 the isolated member of a secular institute really belongs is the local parish or subdivision thereof. In the light of the gospel his or her relationshp to the in-stitute is no different than his or her relationship to the family. Both exercise a formative.influence which served as the foundation for lasting affective bonds, but the reality which manifests the call of God in the present moment is the apostolic environment. To give priority to the institute is to fall back into a merely formal relationship which is equivalent to the sterile legalism that Jesus and Paul condemned so severely. The situation is very different in the case of institutes of common life, because the community in which the members live is distinct from the apostolic environment in which they work. In other words, the community to which they are legally affiliated is the community to which they really belong. That community is the primary context in which the call of God is heard, because according to the order of charity, on which Augustine and Thomas in-sist, those with whom one lives have the first claim on one's love. The needs of those outside the community (i.e, the local community which is the only place that the institute becomes real) must take second place to the needs of the members. The situation is reversed in the case of a member of a secular in-stitute, because those who are legally affiliated to the institute are remote whereas those who constitute the apostolic environment are immediately pres-ent. ~. Legalism can obfuscate this difference, and lawyers may believe that it is not important, but for those who take the gospel seriously it is crucial, because the seed of the Word can take root only in the soil of reality. There is a real distinction between those who consecrate themselves to the service of God as members of a community and those who as individuals consecrate themselves to that same service within the potential community constituted by an apostolic environment. A common denominator can be sought in the idea of "consecration," as the revisors have in fact done, but the value of such a com-mon denominator is precisely what needs to be questioned. There are criteria more important than sterile intellectual neatness or the convenience of lawyers. To ignore reality for the sake of superficial classification is to in-troduce, ambiguities which can have disastrous consequences for the self-understanding of those who have to live under the New Code. This is manifest in the definition of consecrated life adopted by the revisors. It applies much more accurately to hermits and the members of secular institutes than it does to those who belong to institutes of common life. The inevitable consequence is to make community appear as something secondary. It functions as a legal point.,of reference rather than as the basic Christian reality designed to render a unique service both to the Church and to the world.4 4It should also be pointed out that the revisors' understanding of secular institutes depends entirely on the above-criticized concept of "a state of perfection." l f, according to Title I11 of Part il, the members of such institutes "lead their temporal life as the rest of the faithful" all that dis-tinguishes them from the rest of the laity is "the practice of the evangelical counsels." This conclu- The New Law Versus the Gospel / 879 The Difference between Institutes of Perfection The diminution of the importance of community appears even more clearly in Part II of the New Code. The first preliminary canon (n. 91) states, "These institutes follow Christ more closely either~"by prayer, by active works which benefit mankind, or by communicating with people in the world," and Father O'Rourke has correctly observed that the purpose of this canon is to found the distinction between various types of institutes on the type of apostolate carried on by each one? It is perfectly obvious that different institutes in fact do different things, but the way in i,which the revisors deal with this aspect leads to the conclusion that they considered such activities the raison d'~,tre of these institutes. Not only is this assumption in tension with the concept of a state of perfection adopted elsewhere, but it represents a complete misunderstanding of the nature of any Christian community. The revisors neglect the fact that there are two specifically different types of community. For convenience they can be termed the action-community and the being-cornmunity.6 An action-community is one whose raison d'etre is the performance of a series of related actions. It is brought into existence for that purpose. Thus, an army exists in order to execute a plan of defense or attack; a business company exists in order to produce and sell a product. The goal desired in each case is beyond the capacity of an individual, so a number band together to extend the power and scope of their activity. A being-community, on the other hand, is composed of those who come together in order to be or become something as individuals. The purpose of a fitness-club is that the members be fit and healthy. The importance of this distinction is that it permits us to see that the posi-tion of the individual varies considerably according to the type of community to which he. belongs. In the action-community'the individual is for the com-munity, and takes second place to the action which represents the common good of that community. In a business company the individual executive or worker is much less important than the product, and his or her value is judged exclusively in terms of the product. Any sort of damage to the product will result in dismissal. Built into the structure of an action-c6mmunity is the sion is confirmed by the history of the secular institute movement. Th~eir struggle to gain recogni-tion within the Church was based on the assumed relation between the vows and a state of perfec-tion. It was felt that a special value was attached to a lift th(ough profession of the vows, and that the acquisition Of this value conferred a staths that the rest of the laity did not possess. Social recognition of this status was desired as a reinforcement of the members' conviction that what they were doing was worthwhile, in the light ofthe gospel there can be no dispute as~to how this quest for status and recognition should be judged. Love is the only authentically Christian title to status. ~Art. cir., p. 42. ~For a more developed exposition of this distinction, see ch. 2 of the study mentioned in note 3 above. ~180 / Review for Religious, IZolume 34, 1975/6 assumption that a number of ihdividuals will be losers. They can forfeit their lives in an army or be wiped out economically by taxes--and this is rightly taken for granted. In a being-community, however, the community is for the individual, because the raison d'etre of such a community is to provide the individual with stimulus and opportunity. This is perfectly evident in the example of a fitness club. Since its goal is that all the members interiorize the ideal of optimum fitness, it follows that such a club has no common-good distinct from the achievement of the individual. The success or failure of the club. is judged in function of the success or failure of the individual. To which category of community does the Christian community belong? In the light of the New Testament there can be no hesitation. It is a being-community, for its raison d'etre is to make it possible for its members to follow Christ, and thereby to prolong His mission incarnationally by demo.nstrating the double reconciliation (with God and.other human beings, cf. Eph 2, 14-16) that He came to accomplish. In order to be truly Christian, therefore, each community of believers must reflect this basic characteristic. Of its very nature it exists to provide the opportunity of authentic Christian ex-istence for all its members. But such existence is fundamentally a sharing; itis not something that each individual possesses absolutely. This is evident in the Johannine allegory of the vine and the branches (Jn 15, 1-11), but the most,for-mal affirmation comes from St. Paul, "As many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. for you are all one person in Christ Jesus" (Gal 3, 27-28; cf. Col 3, 10-11). Believers are different from non-Christians because they exist in union, whereas the existence of the latter is characterized by divisions. The mission of the Church to transform the world involves breaking down the barriers of hostility and suspicion that divide humanity. In order to ach!eve this it must first show that such divisive tendencies no longer exist within itself. It must show itself to the world as a profoundly reconciled com-munity. Only within the context of such reconciliation are t