Suchergebnisse

Transcript of an oral history interview with Richard S. Schultz, conducted by Sarah Yahm at Norwich University on 8 April 2015, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Richard Schultz was a member of the Norwich University Class of 1960; his interview focuses on discussion of his connections to Norwich University, his military service, and his law practice. ; 1 Richard Schultz, NU 1960, Oral History Interview April 8, 2015 Interviewed by Sarah Yahm SARAH YAHM: And you're bragging. (laughs) DICK SCHULTZ: That's what this is all about. SY: No, but it's not bragging, it's really just, but we'll, the whole point is it's sort of a casual conversation, so I'll ask questions and it's going to trigger your memory. And the point of oral history, too, is that it's not just like, you know, you've probably told the same stories a thousand times at dinner, you know. DS: Well, they get better as you -- SY: And you get better as you go along. But so, but maybe I'll ask a question that will make you rethink that story or remember another detail and things like that, you know. So that's kind of how it works. So anyway, so you're going to get, so for instance, you know, I interviewed somebody and, and I'm talking about, well, you'll get it back and you'll get to, you know, edit out things that are uncomfortable. So for instance, I've interviewed a bunch of the Iranian students who were here in the '70s, we're going to have to redact large parts of those interviews because if they ever want to go back to Iran, or their relatives in Iran, things need to be wiped out. Right? So there's that, which is serious, and then there's somebody who said something mean about her mother-in-law and was like, "You have to get that out of the tape!" right. So it spans the whole gamut. So let's get you close to this microphone, skooch in and close to the microphone. And then I have to test levels. So tell me what you ate for breakfast today. DS: Well, we had breakfast at the Capital Grill, I had two eggs, over light, some bacon, some good toast and several cups of coffee. SY: Oh my god, several cups of coffee. It's going to take me a lot to keep up with you. I haven't had my first sip of tea yet today. So you're going to be way faster than me, but that's okay. Hold on now, I'm checking my levels, okay, my levels are good. Your levels are good. okay. So I am here, what's the date? I should know that. But remember, you had the coffee. DS: Today's the eighth. SY: OK. So it's April 8th, I'm here at the Sullivan Museum and History Center with Richard Schultz, but you go by Dick, right? DS: Yes, I do. SY: With Dick Schultz, class of '60. DS: The great class of '60. SY: The great, so what made the class of '60 so great? DS: We're so active. Even the president, when he refers to us, we are the "great class of '60." SY: What do you think makes you so active? DS: Spirit, love of Norwich. SY: Yeah? So let's go back. So, well first of all, where were you born? DS: I was born in Brockton, Massachusetts. SY: OK, and when you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?2 DS: An adult, I think. (laughs) I have no idea. I really had no idea as a very young child what I wanted to be. But this leads into Norwich because my father was a Reserve Army lieutenant colonel and I always saw the uniform. And I think as a kid, I wanted to have a uniform. And Dad was a Norwich graduate. And I'm a legacy. He was class of 1934. SY: Wow. Huh. And would he tell you stories about Norwich? DS: Not a lot. He would tell me that in 1934, before they marched to breakfast, they had to go down to the horse stable and take care of their horse. I remember that. SY: Yeah. So your dad was in World War II, I assume. DS: Yes. SY: Where did he serve? DS: He served in the States and in Europe. SY: Yeah. And so let's see, so you were probably a little kid when -- DS: Yeah, I was about seven years old when I really started to notice this. SY: How old were you when he was at war? Four? DS: Yeah, maybe four. SY: Yeah. Do you remember him coming home? DS: I remember coming home. I was, I think I came, after the war we came back to Brockton, Massachusetts, and I started the third grade. So what would you -- SY: But do you remember your dad coming home? Do you remember seeing him? DS: Not really. S: Not really? DS: No. S: Yeah, yeah. And did your mother move in with relatives while he was away? DS: Yes, yeah. SY: Yeah. That was a common thing to do, right? DS: Yep, common thing in those days, yeah. SY: OK, so your dad in uniform, so the military appealed to you. DS: It did, very much so. My dad was there. I had an uncle who served, saw a lot of combat in the Pacific theater and I had another uncle who died as a bombardier over Germany during World War II. SY: And did they talk about World War II, or was it not really discussed? DS: It wasn't discussed. SY: Because you know and again, we think a lot about PTSD nowadays. Do you think that the war, that your father struggled with memories -- DS: No, my father wasn't in actual combat. Not like my uncle who was in Japan, in New Guinea and Guadalcanal and that type of place. My father didn't see that type of combat. My uncle who did see a lot of combat never wanted to speak to it until I got to Norwich, then he would tell me some stories. SY: Really? What would he tell you? So he felt like you were sort of in the brotherhood? DS: Yeah, yeah. What would he tell me? Some of the atrocities that the Japanese committed upon the Philippines, the natives in the Philippines -- the rapes, the murders, the stuff that, that he saw. SY: Yeah, he witnessed that, yeah.3 DS: And he also saw, he also was a very lucky guy. Patrolling through the jungles of New Guinea, I think it was, he had a trained monkey that was on his shoulder and the monkey could somehow sense the Japanese in the area and would start to screech and give him, he was a lieutenant, give him some warning. And one day a Japanese sniper aiming for him shot the monkey off his shoulder. SY: No, he lost his monkey. He lived, but he lost his monkey. DS: He lived, the monkey died. SY: Oh. Happy but sad at the same time. (laughs) That was a good story. OK, so you're a kid, you're growing up in Brockton, Mass, and did you -- this is something I ask everybody -- did you play war as a kid? DS: Oh, I'm sure we did, absolutely. I'm sure we played war games. SY: But you don't remember them? DS: I don't remember them. I think we did, we played more than, war more than we played cops and robbers or Indians. SY: Cowboys and Indians, yeah. Well, it was a great generation post–World War II, it makes sense, yeah. OK. So tell me how you ended up choosing to go to Norwich. DS: Interesting story. I was not -- in high school I broke no academic records. I was just barely surviving. And Dad said, "I think it's time for you to go to Norwich," and in those days I think, I think it's probably not true, but I think as long as you had a pulse you could get into Norwich, OK. And I qualified with a pulse and not much more. And sure enough, I'm admitted to Norwich and I remember the first day I came here, Sarah. I drove up to the main gate in those days and I was 18 years old and I was driving the car, I'm a hot shot. Dad's in the front seat, Mom's in the backseat, kid sister is a couple years, three years younger, she's in the backseat. And I drove up to the gate and there was a cadet standing there and he had a couple of stripes on his arm. And I rolled down the window and I said, "Hey, where do you register?" he looked at me, no answer. And I said it quite, a lot louder, "Hey, where do you register?" no answer. Finally I whistled very loudly at him and he came over to the door and he put his nose through the door, right to my face and he said, "Mister, when you talk to me you call me 'sir,'" and my dad leaned over to me and he whispered in my ear, "I made it through this goddamn place and you'd better, too," my mother had tears in her eyes and my kid sister said that she thought that the cadet was very cute. (laughter) I remember that incident. SY: So you must have been, were you freaking out? Were you like, what the hell have I gotten myself into? DS: I was concerned. And at that point they separated us from our parents. (clears throat) They shaved our heads. And it's my recollection is they issued us an M-1, a rifle. SY: With no bullets. DS: No bullets. And we were told, "Never let it out of your sight," and "Say goodbye to your parents," and, "If you really behave yourself as a class and get recognized, maybe you'll get out of here for Thanksgiving, no guarantees," and then the parents were told to go down to the armory. And Ernie Harmon, Major General 4 Ernie Harmon was president of Norwich and my mother remembered that Ernie, who spoke with a real deep gravel voice said to the parents in essence, "Now why don't you all get the hell off my hill so that I can try to make men out of these pathetic boys." SY: Sounds like something Ernie Harmon would say. DS: That's exactly what he said. And that was it. They left and -- SY: Your father's like, what's going to happen to my little boy? DS: Absolutely, no question. That was my introduction. And I loved it. SY: Interesting. So when did you really start loving it? Right away? DS: I loved it the moment I got there. SY: Really? What did you love? DS: I loved the atmosphere, I loved the camaraderie, I loved the, everybody's doing the same thing, everybody's dressed the same way, nobody's different. SY: And what about that did you like? DS: I just liked the regimentation. I just felt that, this was made for me. And I also had the challenge. My father made it through, I could do it and I could have a better record than he did. SY: And do you think regimentation is part of why you didn't do so well in high school is that you didn't have enough regimentation? You think you were hungry for structure? DS: Oh, I'm a high school kid, you know, I'm chasing girls. I'm not interested in tomorrow's geometry assignment. That's no different than anybody is today, I think. But I loved Norwich. SY: So OK, so do you remember, OK, so you're getting your head shaved, right, so you're losing your precious hair. What are you thinking of while it's happening? Are you like, oh, I don't want to lose my hair? DS: I knew it was going to happen. It wasn't a surprise. SY: And then what about the first time somebody gets in your face and yells at you? DS: (laughs) It's all part of the orientation. You know, you know from day one that if you are a good cadet, a solid cadet, you're going to be in his shoes next year. You're going to have a couple of stripes on your sleeve and you're going to be yelling at next year's rooks. And it's all a big joke. SY: Yeah. Were there any kids who didn't make it? Do you remember? DS: Yes. Statistically, 51%, and I know this because I did some research on it, 51% of the cadets that entered with me in the class of 1960 did not graduate. SY: Wow, and did you -- DS: Now that is because of academics, because of military or because of honor code violations. So we lost 51%. SY: Did you lose any good friends? DS: Not that I can remember. I'm sure I knew them. Sometimes, I don't know if you, sometimes, I've bumped into my old roommate a couple of years ago at one of these reunions and he said to me, "Dick, do you remember the third guy that was in our room in Alumni Hall?" and I said to him, "Billy, we didn't have a third guy," he said, "Yes we did. He stayed only a couple of weeks and you and I woke up one morning and the bed was empty. He was gone," and I said, "You know, you're right."5 SY: You didn't know why, you didn't know -- DS: Just couldn't take it. SY: Yeah, just couldn't take it. So did you ever have moments of doubt, where you were like, am I going to be one of those kids? Or did you know you were fine? DS: I never dared to think that way. SY: Because your father would have killed you. DS: I was going to make it. It never occurred to me to leave. SY: Interesting. So what were your Norwich high moments and your Norwich low moments? DS: High moments, I think involved -- being here at Norwich, as a general thing, I was very proud of being here. I was very proud of the fact that all of the sudden I started to -- not immediately excel, but I started to handle my academic courses. I made good friends. That's something, Sarah, that I -- I think is so important about Norwich. The friends you make here in four years are lifetime friends. SY: Why do you think that is? DS: It's like no other college is, probably because of the fact it was a fulltime military school. Don't forget, in those days there were no women. Everyone, the draft was in, if you left Norwich your name, your deferment ended and you went right back into the draft. SY: So OK, but I'm confused. Because you're in that window post Korea, pre-Vietnam. Right? DS: Yes. SY: So there wasn't a draft (overlapping) -- DS: Oh there absolutely -- SY: There was? DS: There absolutely was a draft in 1960. The draft continued until just before Vietnam. Let's see, Vietnam blew up in 1963 or so. SY: Because that's, I've been confused about that, because I mean knew, and Korea ended when? Fifty? DS: Fifty-five, '56, no maybe '56. SY: So I thought there was a gap of, you know, I don't know, five some odd years where there wasn't a draft, but there was continually. DS: There was definitely a draft. And if you left Norwich, Norwich notified your draft board. SY: OK. And then you were going to go in without any control. DS: That's right. And you were not going in as an officer. SY: Right. Well that certainly makes leaving less appealing, too. So you were saying the friends you make at Norwich are the friends you make for life. DS: Yes. And that stayed, that's true as of today. We're a very, very tight group. Another high point, of course, would be graduation. My -- mother and father pinned my second lieutenant bars on. Dad gave me the first salute, I had to give him a dollar. Those are proud days. And academically I did well, I started to make the dean's list. SY: What was your major? DS: Business administration. I don't know if anyone's ever mentioned to you, but responsibility is something that they teach at Norwich. And cadet officers are 6 responsible for everything that happens or fails to happen under their watch. If a rook is not doing well academically, it's his captain's fault. And they would knock on your door during study hours and you'd better be seated at your desk reading a textbook and not a comic book. And there were certain hours that the upperclassmen were not allowed to bother you, academic hours, study hours. But once the study hours were over, then all hell broke loose. Then you're matched out into the halls and you're bracing and you're doing pushups and you're parading through the shower in nothing more than a raincoat and anything that the upperclassman can do to harass you. And then at a certain hour, get in your sack, go to sleep, it all starts again tomorrow morning. SY: Right, right. So did you end up taking on leadership positions in the Corps? DS: Yes. I was promoted my second year to cadet corporal. My third year I was cadet sergeant. My fourth year I was a cadet officer. SY: So what made, you think you learned how to be a good leader? DS: Absolutely. SY: So what made you a good leader? Do you remember a moment when you -- DS: No, there's not a moment. It's the combination of your training. The first thing a leader does is take care of his men. They're most important. Just because you have some stripes doesn't mean you can abuse anyone. And here at Norwich the rooks look at their cadet lieutenants and captains and majors and what have you and say, "That was me, they were me three years ago, four years ago," so that's something I have to aim for. SY: Mm-hmm. Yeah and did you feel, do you remember, I don't know, I was just thinking if there's a moment where you felt like you really excelled as a leader, and a moment when you felt like you failed as a leader? DS: I don't. I don't have specific instances. SY: OK, so we've talked about Norwich highs. And were there any Norwich lows? Failed tests to -- DS: Oh sure. But lows -- I'm hard pressed to tell you about any particular low. To me Norwich was just wonderful. I just could not have made a better choice, even though it probably wasn't my choice. SY: Did you get in trouble? DS: Everybody gets in trouble. Everybody walks tours. Everybody -- (laughs) I remember one time I, as a rook, I was coming up from the mess hall and rooks are not allowed to walk across the Parade Ground at that time. And I was in a hurry to go somewhere, I don't know. In any event, I started walking around, walking across the Parade Ground. And someone from a corner room in one of the, in the hall, I've forgotten the name of the, of it, right next to the -- the path, yelled at me and I turned around and I gave him the bird. And then next thing I knew there were two corporals escorting me up to the third floor room and I knocked on the door and I walked in and I never saw so many stripes in my life. This was a high-ranking junior cadet that I had just given the bird to. And he gave me demerits, that took me 10 hours to walk off. (laughs) Walk back and forth with a rifle. OK? And, but it's all in good spirit. SY: Yeah. What did you guys do for fun?7 DS: What did we do for fun? There were all kinds of clubs and activities. I'd have to go through the yearbook. SY: Were you a member of any? DS: Oh, yeah. And I don't remember, but I was a member of a number of clubs. And -- after the first year when you've got some freedom you could go to Montpelier. You'd grab a ride with an upperclassman, you didn't have a car. But you'd get to Montpelier and sometimes go to Vermont College, known as VC. SY: I was just going to say, what about the girls? DS: The girls, absolutely. Went to see the girls. And -- I don't know, we were so busy. SY: You didn't have much time for fun. DS: No. SY: Let's see. Who were your favorite professors? DS: By name? Oh boy. SY: Any that made an impression on you? DS: I liked most of the professors. I was a business major, I know I liked my English professor. SY: Was Loring Hart your English professor? DS: Yes. Yes, and subsequently president of Norwich. And I liked history. I liked the military professors. I won a prize as a freshman history, military history student. I was awarded a book as a prize, very nice. OK, that was about it. SY: All right. So it's getting to the end of Norwich, right, and you're about to commission. Right. So you know, where did you commission and what was that like? DS: Okay, okay. Let me back up a little bit. Before commission, in my class there were, some of us who thought we might like to go to graduate school. And we were ready to be commissioned and one of my buddies said to me that he was going down to Boston to take the law school admission test and I started to joke with him, I said, "What are you wasting your time for? You're not smart enough, you couldn't get into law school if you wanted to," he said, "I'll bet you $10 that you can't get into law school" and conditioned upon "if you do go down to take the LSATs, you've got friends at Boston University, you get us dates." I said, "Okay, you're on," so I called up my buddies at Boston University and I said, "Myself and a friend are coming down, we're taking the LSATs. We've got a three-day pass, we need dates," done, okay. So sure enough, we take the LSAT and both apply to BU and BC. We want to go to law school together. (clears throat) And he gets accepted at BC and waitlisted at BU. I get accepted at BU, waitlisted at BC. So that was the end of that. Also in my class another, two other guys went to law school, Doug Auer, who is now deceased, and Stan Brown, who is deceased. Stan and I roomed together in Boston. And we got our commissions with the rest of the class and we became what Alden Partridge who founded the school for, we became citizen soldiers. We had, we had, I was offered a regular Army commission, because I was a distinguished military student, which is a certain level of, of that and I turned it down, the regular Army commission, in order to go to law school. The Army said 8 to all of us who went to graduate school, there was also a couple of doctors and a dentist, out of our entire class that was it who went to graduate school, excuse me. And the condition was, yes, you can go to graduate school provided you're in the active Reserve while you're in graduate school. That means that each week you go to a meeting and you go to summer camp during the time you're in law school. Now we're second lieutenants. Which is fine. And that system worked out just great. Then I graduated from the law school. SY: Now hold on a sec. Hold on a second. Because it sounds like you sort of went to law school on a lark. You were like, I'll see if I can get in. DS: Yeah. SY: And then you're like learning tort law and was there a part of you that was like, why did go down and take those LSATs? Or did you discover that you really liked it? DS: Nobody likes law school. Anybody who tells you they enjoyed law school is full of baloney. SY: That is true. I've heard that before. DS: Okay. I think -- I did what was necessary to graduate from the law school. At that point I had no idea what I was going to do. I knew I could have my regular Army commission if I wanted it. And I -- I was just -- I didn't know what I wanted to do with the law degree. And I had to go in the Army, I owed the Army two years of active duty. The Army then came to me and said, "Well, Lieutenant Schultz, you are a Norwich guy, which we like, and a lawyer. You've passed the Massachusetts bar. We're going to make you an instant captain and we're going to put you in the JAG Corps, which is Army lawyers. And I said to them, "No you're not. I have had college right up to here. I don't want to be behind a desk. In the Pentagon or someplace like that. I am a commissioned armored officer and I want to be in tanks," and they said, "Well, it's up to you," I said, "That's right, it is," and so I said, "Where are you going to station?" and this is where the Norwich, what they call the "Norwich Ring Knockers Club" comes from, okay. Norwich takes care of Norwich. And they said, well, "I see that Norwich, well, we can make you this offer. You can stay at Fort Knox, Kentucky and be an instructor," I said, "That's not interesting to me," "Would you like to go to Korea?" I said, "Well, you know, that's a possibility, "Well, would you like to go to Germany?" I said, "Sold, OK, Germany sounds great, send me to Germany," and so a matter of a few weeks after graduating from law school, I reported to Fort Knox, Kentucky, I did some training in Kentucky and then they shipped me off to Germany. Which were, among, Norwich and my active duty time were the most formative years of my life. Both in a very positive sense. I reported to my commanding officer, who was at that time Colonel Frank B. Clay, son of Lucius Clay, who was a famous World War II general and in charge of Germany after the German surrender. Well, Colonel Clay, I went into his office and he has all my, he has my what they call a 201 file, he has my file on his desk and he said, "I'm so glad you're from Norwich," he said, "I am a very busy guy. The only officers I want in this unit are West Point, Norwich, VMI and the Citadel. I don't have time for the others," I 9 said, "Yes, sir," I'm assigned to what is called the Second Armored Cav which is a very, very prestigious outfit. SY: That's my phone. I'm sorry. DS: That's OK. I wanted to ask you if we're doing all right. SY: We're doing great, we're doing great. I'm getting really interested in hearing your stories in Germany. I just have my phone -- DS: Am I getting too detailed? SY: No, no, no, no. This is great. I want to hear about all this stuff. By the way, what did this, your commanding officer, what did he think Norwich grads had that other officers didn't have? DS: OK, we back on? SY: Yeah, yeah. I never actually paused it. Kept it going. Edit out. DS: Well, Colonel Clay, one of the most respected leaders I've ever met, I just loved him, he became a major general -- he wanted the training that came from a military college. He didn't want the ROTC. So anyway, I was about to tell you, the Second Armored Cav is a unit where in, where regular officers go to what is called "get their ticket punched for higher advancement." How in the world they took a reserve officer like me, with a law degree and put me in the Second Cav is beyond me, it belonged to somebody who was going to make a career out of the Army. And it was a wonderful assignment -- we were on what is called the, what was the East German / West German / Czechoslovakian border, known as the tri-zonal point. On one side is a minefield with watchtowers and East German / Russian soldiers looking at us through binoculars and we're patrolling a dirt path, fully armed, which made it a very, very unusual outfit after, in the Cold War. Fully armed, reading to protect ourselves and our only job as border patrol people was to give early warning in case they came over the border. We were much too small a unit to stop them -- our job was just to say, "They're coming, get the hell out," and -- it was so much more interesting than a garrison job because this is something that was very, very necessary and important in the Cold War. SY: So what was a normal day like? DS: Well, you went out on the border for a month at a time and you stayed, after a month you rotated back to your home, "concern" it was called. And you stayed there for two months and then you'd go back out again. What was it like? You lived out in the woods. You slept out there. You patrolled 24 hours, 24/7. You had listening posts. And -- you made sure that they didn't come over. SY: What was a listening post? DS: It was really very, very close to the border with microphones, to see if anybody was trying to sneak over the border. SY: So did you catch anybody sneaking over? DS: I never did. SY: You never did. DS: No. SY: So OK. So were there also any civilians attempting, they wouldn't cross at that point, that point to cross, there were tons of people with guns.10 DS: Yeah, yeah, but there's tons of crazy people. Don't forget, a border is a two-way street. It keeps them out and it keeps us in. So we didn't, we didn't have much of a problem. But we were ready in case there was a problem. SY: Was there ever a time when you thought you guys were going to -- DS: There was a couple of scary times. SY: Tell me about those. DS: One time, you've got to picture, you're in a Jeep. And you're not very well protected. You're patrolling this dirt path. And all of a sudden we heard (machine gun SFX) and we saw about 100 yards in front of us the dirt kick up. Well, if I'm going to, my grandmother, if she wanted to shoot us, wouldn't miss by a 100 yards. They had no intention of hurting us. It was harassment. But we were right there in so-called front lines. So we make a telephone call to Air Force jet fighters who are constantly monitoring the border and we give them coordinates and in a matter of a few minutes, along comes this jet fighter, zooms right over our heads and stays on our side of the border, but makes a ton of noise. And what does that do? One, it scared the daylights out of us, but we knew they were coming. He was coming. And second, it showed whoever fired on the other side that this is not just a Jeep, it's the United States of America. And we're going to protect our people. So this was the type of thing. And -- SY: Any other scary things? DS: Yeah, there was one other one. I was patrolling the border and there was a -- a train, a train trestle on top, a little bit of a tunnel, tunnel is just the width of a train and I came up on my side of the tunnel and my counterpart, an East German or a Russian, came on the other side and we just simultaneously looked at each other through the tunnel. And before I could do anything, my gunner, who was right over my head with a machine gun, turned the gun toward the Russian or East German and all I heard was click, click, click, he armed the machine gun and before I could say a word I was thinking, don't shoot, don't shoot, don't start World War III, and the Russian on the other side looked at me and yelled, "Amerikanisch cigarette? Amerikanisch cigarette?" and I yelled, "Nein, nein," and I told the driver, "Move," and that was the whole, the whole thing. SY: Interesting. So he was actually, he, huh, he actually thought you guys might be able to connect. DS: Oh, what we wanted me to do was throw him a pack of American cigarettes. SY: Cigarettes, for sure, but still -- (laughs) DS: Yeah, but he was not the good guy. SY: OK. So you're out in the field. You have a couple of incidents like this. DS: Yeah, but that's over a two-year period. SY: Right, most of it is probably boring. DS: It was fun. It was fun. SY: How did you guys entertain yourselves? DS: We were single. And the exchange rate was four to one. I think we were being paid somewhere around $230 a month as lieutenants, times four, makes us rich. We could buy anything. On the German economy. A Volkswagen cost $600. A Mercedes I think was somewhere under $2,000, maybe $1,800. OK? We were 11 very wealthy guys. I roomed with a fellow who's a West Pointer, we lived off base. We had a poodle dog who rode in our tank. We both had Volkswagens. SY: Wait, wait, wait. You had a poodle who rode in your tanks? DS: Oh, absolutely. He was the tank commander. (laughs) SY: That's hilarious. DS: Yep. And he came to work. And when we weren't out in the border, he came to work with me every day. He was very good. And toward about I would say -- oh, six, nine months before my tour ended, Colonel Clay came to me and he said, "I need an assistant S-1, which is a personnel officer at regiments. Would you like to come up to Nuremberg and work in the headquarters?" I said, "Sure," and he, I moved up from a town called Bamberg to Nuremberg and I was a regimental assistant S-1, which is personnel. And that's when my roommate and I lived together in Nuremberg and it was a good life. Yeah. SY: It sounds like it. DS: Oh, it was not roughing it. And after my time came up and I rotated home and that's when we get back to Brockton. SY: Yeah. And had you thought about staying in at that point? DS: Yes, I did think about it. This Vietnam had -- I couldn't point out Vietnam on a map, this was 1962, I'm sorry, mistake, 1965. And I -- we didn't even know where Vietnam was. Everything was nice and quiet, it was good. And I always thought of staying in, but then with the law degree and my parents were so happy their son was a lawyer, I came back to Brockton. And started a law practice. In those days, this was 50 something years ago, in those days you could do that, you could hang out a shingle and you could say, "Here I am, I'm a lawyer, I'm very well known," the name is known in Brockton -- I became an assistant district attorney. I prosecuted because of connections, that happens. I prosecuted some attempted murder cases, rape cases, things like that. And then I decided, time to go to work for myself. And opened an office and defended the serious felonies. And divorces and breach of contract and what a general practicing lawyer does. And I enjoyed it very much. SY: Yeah. What did you like best? Did you like being a prosecutor? Did you like being defense? Did you like? DS: I enjoyed both ends of it. I didn't stay a prosecutor very long. Just long enough to get what they call "experience at government expense," that's how you learned to try a case. Let the government pay you to screw up their assault case, rather than let the client pay you and say you're the worst lawyer he's ever had. SY: There you go. DS: So let the government pay for it. So then we start to practice law. And I'm still single. And now I've got, now I'm 28 years old. And I'm talking to my, about one of my very, very, very close friends, who's now married and I had met his girlfriend before I, while I was in law school, I said, "How about that girl you were dating when I was in law school? She married?" he said, "No, she's not married, I think I still have her number," then he gives me her number, I call her up, I make a date with her, she remembered having met me and we get married. And we've been married now for 49 years. Two children. One lives an hour from us in Massachusetts in Sharon, two grandchildren. And another one lives in 12 McLean, Virginia, which is an airplane ride. And he has two children. So that's jumping the gun, that's getting the children, but I think you probably want to know what I did in my law practice. SY: Yeah, I want to go back to Germany for a second. Because I think, you know, one of the benefits of getting someone from a place like Norwich, right, is in addition to the military training, you've also taken some history classes, right, taken some English classes and maybe taken a sociology class or two, so when you were in Germany, did you have a sense of like the politics or what was going on? Were you thinking about that? Or were you just kind of just keeping your head down? DS: The German politics? SY: No, the politics of the Cold War. Were you like sort of aware of the role you were playing in US foreign policy, were thinking about that when you were in Germany? DS: This was very much the Cold War and the answer to your question is definitely yes and it brings to mind a very serious incident that happened. I was there when President Kennedy was assassinated and I remember being in the officer's club after hours and don't forget, this is a time when there was no Internet, no telephone communication, no news that, you didn't know what was going on. And the officer of the day came into the officer's club and very dramatically, just almost like you would see in the movies, went to the bar, took a piece of silverware and banged on a glass for quiet. And I remember that he said, "Gentlemen, the president of the United States has been shot," we didn't even know if he was alive, OK, "Everybody man your battle stations," we did not know if this was a Russian conspiracy. We had no idea what had happened and we all got in our tanks and we all rushed to our stations on the border, the entire regiment went to the border. And our guns were loaded and they were pointed toward Russia, so to speak. And we sat there for three days not knowing what had happened to Kennedy and finally the word came out that Kennedy had died and that this was not a conspiracy from the Warsaw Pact and everybody returned to their base. Very scary. And just like in the movies. SY: Yeah. And did you sort of live with this fear that World War III was going to start? I mean, you're right on this border, you see everybody armed, the Cold War is quite literal to you and it's not so cold. DS: It's a terrible, psychological and dumb feeling when that happens. Because here you are trained to do a job and we sat out there and everyone had the feeling, we hope this is a war because we're Americans, we're the good guys, we're going all the way to Moscow, nobody can stop us, bullets will bounce off us, we've got the white horse. What an immature, dumb mindset. But that was the feeling. Let us go. We'll teach these sons of bitches that shot our president a lesson. SY: And you think that's just being 24? DS: That's being 24 and macho. SY: Oh, yeah. So it's interesting, it's sort of amazing to me thinking about this border with sort of armed kids on either side.13 DS: Eighteen year olds. SY: Both feeling that way and you know, it sort of seems like the Cold War could have gotten hot accidentally very quickly. DS: Oh, no question about it. SY: Why do you think it didn't? DS: Leadership. Leadership. At the officer level. The lieutenants knew that it would be their necks if they fired the first shot. And the training that the officers gave the enlisted personnel -- "You don't have to agree with me, but do what I say. And I'm telling you, you don't fire the first shot," and it worked. SY: Do you think you were a good leader? DS: The Army thought I was. I was promoted to captain. I was recognized as a good leader. SY: Sounds like you were a good leader. DS: I think I was. I did my best. I did my best. And when I came back from, when I came back and I decided to practice law, I still owed the Army some time, Reserve time. So I stayed in an additional Reserve unit and for a total of seven years commission time. Two years on active duty and five in the Reserves. Three during law school, two years active duty and two more. SY: And were you scared that you would have to go to Vietnam? DS: No. SY: No, because you were -- DS: No, they didn't need me at that point. SY: Okay, so let's talk about your law practice. How do you think your training at Norwich and your time in the service affected who you were as a lawyer? DS: Good question. How did it affect? I was very surprised that when I came back in 1965, you couldn't, a lawyer couldn't advertise. The rules have changed. You could put an ad in the paper saying you're opening an office, but that was the extent of it. So the only way a lawyer could get to be known as a practitioner was frankly to run for political office and hope to lose. (laughter) Because you don't want the job anyway. And that's what I did. There were -- three openings on the Brockton School Committee and there were six candidates, I was one. Being a candidate permitted me to advertise my credentials in the paper and to go to the League of Women Voters and this club and that club and talk to people. And at Election Day, thank goodness there were three openings, I came in fourth. Thank god, because I didn't want the job. But I advertised and I found that World War II veterans, Korean veterans were very interested in a Cold War veteran. And Norwich, to the military, whether you're a Norwich guy or an enlisted soldier, it means something. It's got credentials. Everybody goes to Boston University and Boston College and Harvard Law. In all my practice no one ever came into my office and said, "Before I hire you I want to know what law school you went to," never ever once asked that question. But if they saw my Norwich diploma on the wall and they wanted to talk about it. SY: Hm. Do you think it's that because lawyers have reputations at times for being like shysters, right? DS: Oh, absolutely.14 SY: So do you think they were like, okay, maybe this guy has integrity because he has this background (overlapping dialogue; inaudible)? DS: Maybe that was their thinking, I can't get in their heads, but I think to a lot of my clients, businessmen and defendants as well, the Norwich diploma on the wall didn't hurt. SY: Yeah. Hey, what case are you most proud of? DS: I can't pick one. I really can't pick out, that goes back too far, I've been gone a long time. But -- and I also, I'm also thinking in, you know, this idea of Citizen Soldier. SY: Yeah, let's talk about that. DS: I also became very involved in Brockton itself. I was appointed a member of the Brockton Planning Board, the zoning board, the Consumer Protection Agency. I was president of the Jewish Community Center in Brockton and it evolved into a larger geographical area, the South Area Jewish Community Center. I just volunteered my time, not only because it's the right thing to do, but it was the right thing to give back to the community. SY: So hold on. I didn't realize you were Jewish. So now I have some questions. So first of all, what was it like to be a Jew at Norwich in the late '50s? There weren't that many. DS: There weren't that many. Good question. SY: I should have -- Schultz, I should have -- I thought about German, yeah. DS: Yeah, no big. There weren't a lot but there were some. I can't remember a single incident at Norwich of anti-Semitism. As far as my friends were concerned, that never ever came up. I was extreme comfortable. SY: Interesting. And did you go, let's see, because on Sundays people go to chapel, but there's a synagogue in Burlington. DS: There also, in my time was one in Randolph. SY: Really? DS: Yeah. I don't know if there is there anymore. SY: I don't think so. DS: But there was a rabbi in Randolph and there were, I would say maybe 20, 25 Jewish students. And we arranged for the rabbi to come up here and conduct services for holidays, right here on campus. SY: So you would do like Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur. DS: Yeah, if we weren't home, the rabbi would come up. But specifically to answer your question, it never was a problem. SY: Now that's interesting. I also interviewed a woman in town, Phyllis Greenway, and she remembered a song that one of the fraternities sang. This wasn't an anti-Semitic song, it was a funny song, that sort of had like a vaudeville flavor that involved a Jewish student, I don't remember what it was, but you don't remember a song? DS: No, but she, what was her position? SY: Phyllis? Oh, she was the girlfriend and then the wife of a Norwich student, and I think he lived in a house off campus and they had a -- okay, so -- DS: Was he a civilian?15 SY: No, no. He was, OK, wait, hold on. So then I think you being in Germany has a whole different valence. This is post Holocaust, you're this Jewish kid, you're going to Germany, right? DS: Yeah. SY: I mean first of all your parents were probably like, what the hell are you doing? DS: No, the only instruction my parents had was, "Don't bring home the daughter of a Nazi." (laughter) SY: They said don't bring home a shiksa, don't bring home a Nazi shiksa, that's it. (laughs) DS: Right, right, right. SY: But here you are in Germany. You're dating all these German girls. You're enjoying the German life. Did you think about being a Jew in Germany? DS: No, no, no. It's a very interesting thing, no. We, my roommate and I visited Dachau. And we were, of course, he wasn't Jewish but he was from West Point and one of my closest friends to this day and it just, Sarah, was never an issue. SY: It doesn't sound like it was something you were thinking about that (overlapping) -- DS: I wasn't thinking about it. I was very aware of the fact that when an American officer, emphasize "officer," walked down the streets of Germany in 1963 and if the street was narrow, the German citizen would give way to the American officer. They're very conscious of a caste system. This is going to be very difficult to describe, I think in this oral history, but the other thing that I remember to this day is when we drove our tanks down some of the narrow roads of Germany in 1963 and there's still some damage, everything had not been built up, if the scene had been transposed from Germany to the United States, an American seven- or eight-year-old kid seeing a tank go by would wave to the tank, the tank would wave back to the kid. In Germany the 10-year-old kid doesn't wave, he raises his right hand to the tank. In the salute. And we were very conscious of that. How they get that -- SY: And it's the Sieg Heil salute, right? So did it -- DS: Yeah. It was a tank. Germans love tanks. They've got tank mentality. They'd rather have a tank than 10 Mercedes. Yeah, they didn't, we were very conscious that the German kid did not wave, he saluted. SY: So it was a militaristic society. Yeah, yeah. And did you, when you were sort of hanging out with German girls, did you mention that you were Jewish? Or was it something, did it not come up? You didn't think about it. DS: Never thought about it. If they knew, fine, who cares? SY: Interesting. And did you, you were there for nine months. Did you celebrate any holidays? DS: Oh, I was there for 18 months. SY: For 18 months. So did you celebrate any holidays there? DS: Oh, yeah. SY: So where did you go? DS: Right there on the post. SY: There were enough men for a minyan.16 DS: Oh yes, absolutely. Are you Jewish? Oh, I didn't realize that. How do you spell your last name? SY: Yahm, Y-A-H-M. DS: YHM? SY: Y-A-H-M. We don't know, we don't know where it comes from. Sea in Hebrew but, yeah. DS: So this must be interesting to you, then. SY: Oh yeah, very interesting. That's why I was like, wait a second. I didn't realize that. Yeah, yeah, so that's interesting. But there are no, I mean but you weren't worshiping out in the community, you weren't going to like a synagogue in the community, there weren't any. DS: No. There weren't any. I wouldn't have understood them anyway. They'd be in German. Yeah. I should have known, bring home a shiksa, I should have picked that up. SY: You said the shiksa, exactly. (laughter) DS: Okay. SY: And that's interesting, too, because your dad was in career military, that was -- DS: No, he was a Reservist. SY: He was Reservist, but still, that was unusual for a Jewish man in that era. DS: Yeah. SY: Yeah, so how did he -- DS: I don't think he had any trouble. SY: But I mean, how did he get into that path? Like where did your family come from? Did you immigrate? Like what was the deal? DS: The usual story from Poland, from Russia. He's first generation, I'm second generation. He came to Norwich on an academic scholarship, my dad did. And I don't think he had any clue what he was getting into. But I think he -- was of a mindset that nobody's going to throw him out of here. SY: So he was a public school kid who did well and got the scholarship? DS: Yeah. SY: And this is in Brockton? This is in Brockton? DS: Yeah, in Brockton, yeah. Class of 1934, look him up in the yearbook. SY: Interesting. Okay. So he gets a scholarship, he gets up here, he's being sent into the WASPy wasteland, right? And then here he is and he did well and then he stayed in the military. DS: Reserve. SY: Reserves. DS: Don't confuse them. Reserve. Yeah, and then he got called up right after Pearl Harbor. SY: Okay. And then what did he do for a living? DS: He was in the real estate business. And -- Brockton at that time was a town of about 55,000 people. Everybody knew everyone. Everyone knew everyone who was entitled to be known. You walked down the street, it was safe. Today it's a city of well over 100,000 people. If you walk down the streets of Brockton you'd better have a flack vest and a helmet on. Because it's a tough town. But it's changed, yeah.17 SY: Has that been sad for you? DS: I'm sorry? SY: Has that been sad for you, to see your hometown change? DS: Yeah, yeah, it was too bad. Good for business. A lot of criminal work. (laughs) SY: There you go. (laughs) DS: What are you going to do? (laughter) So, want me to continue? SY: Yeah, yeah. DS: OK. So anyway, I'm very, very proud and loyal with Norwich. I think these formative years here are just invaluable. I started a Norwich Club on Cape Cod, for Rook Sendoff, you've heard of those. We started the first year with about 15 people in attendance. We now have over 200 that come to, it's the largest sendoff in the country. Rich Schneider comes down, he stays at my house, OK. Or at General Sullivan's house. Gordy lives about five miles from me. SY: Oh, he's out on the Cape, too? DS: Yeah, he's got a summer home. SY: Oh, I didn't know that. And you guys were in school together at Norwich. DS: He was class of '59. He lived across the hall. SY: Hah. Were you buddies? DS: So much, not close. Became better friends later. Carlo D'Este, who I mention, Carlo, if you look up Carlo, he was class of '58, he runs the Colby Symposium. He lives five miles from me. And Rich doesn't always stay at my house. One time he couldn't stay at Sully's. But he and Jamie come down. SY: And this is Falmouth. DS: Falmouth. Yeah. So we start the club and we got so large a few years ago that we had to change venues because we were afraid the fire marshal was going to come in and close us down. We have a golf tournament. Good leadership. I formed this club, I got this club going and then I got a successor, so I'm no longer president. This is good leadership. Yiddishe cup. SY: I was just going to say, (laughter) you're using your noggin. (laughter) DS: So what else can I -- I served on the Board of Fellows at Norwich. SY: (phone rings) Hold on, it's going to pass in a second. We're just going to wait. Have to wait 30 seconds for it to pass. Dadadadada to my phone. I should have put it on silent but I forgot. There we go. Delegating. Yiddishe cup, that's where we were. DS: (laughs) Oh, I served two terms on the Board of Fellows. Loring Hart appointed me. And I come up here with the great class of 1960 for, every year we have a mini-reunion. And I am very, very honored. I'm only a captain. Everybody in my class is a colonel and I am the guy that leads them onto the Parade Ground, okay, with The Guidon. You've probably seen these parades. That's nice. We're very tight, we're a very close group. SY: What do you think a Citizen Soldier brings to society? Like what you do think, versus somebody who's a career military guy, like how do you think your perspective is different? Because Alden Partridge was like, "We don't want a standing army, we want citizen soldiers," right? DS: Yeah. SY: What are your thoughts about that?18 DS: I think we need Citizen Soldiers. The mindset is different. The Citizen Soldier in business can't simply say, "This is an order, do it," because he's going to get nowhere. He has to be probably a little bit more diplomatic. He has to remember who he's talking to. He has to cajole, beg, borrow and barter. The career army officer that's wearing eagles on his shoulder or stars might have a more difficult time coming back into business because he's not used to asking for anything. But yet they do very well. The smart career officer that retires, especially one who has been in the Pentagon, retires with his Rolodex and can work wonders in military business. And there's an old saying in business, that you know you're important when people return your phone calls. And people return phone calls to generals and colonels. They don't necessarily return phone calls to the lawyer. Because they don't know if they're being sued or what's going on. SY: Or if they're going to get charged for it. (laughs) DS: That's right, that's right. That's right. But I think in retrospect, if you had asked me, what would I change -- I think I would answer you by saying, "Not a damn thing." SY: Hey, that's a good way to view your life, huh? DS: I think that I wouldn't, I would not change anything. I am very, very proud of my association with Norwich. Excuse me. I am extremely proud of my children. They've done very, very well. They're college graduates with advanced degrees. Neither one decided, wanted any part of Norwich. Maybe because of the information that I've given you today. It's kind of tough for a legacy because you want to do better than your predecessor and this is very self-serving, but I think I would be a tough act for them to follow. And I think that was, that was -- grandchildren are doing very well, one's in college. Another one is a tremendous athlete that's never met a sport he doesn't like. The others are kind of young right now. We have a wonderful relationship. My marriage is wonderful. It's, in fact it's one of those situations where my wife was saying to me the other day, "Some days I'm mad as hell at you and could kill you, but I could never live without you," and I thought that was pretty nice. SY: That was very sweet. DS: Yeah. What else can I tell you? SY: I don't know, that's good. And I also, we've been, I want to make sure you can get up to the president's house. DS: Oh, he'll wait. (laughs) SY: Oh yeah, all right. Because you're from the amazing class of 1960. DS: No, I will be on time, I've got time. SY: Yeah, I know, you sort of -- DS: I have such respect for Rich Schneider. I think he is the best thing that has ever, ever happened at Norwich. I think we're going to hard pressed when he retires. And hopefully we can pressure him not to. (laughs) SY: I'm not sure that he feels that way. (laughs) DS: No, I don't either. SY: Let's see. We talked a little about Citizen Soldier, we talked a little bit about service. And it seems like you talked about service to your community in 19 Brockton. Do you think service was something you learned at Norwich? But it also was something you learned growing up. DS: Yes. Service to the community. I owe the community. The community was very good to me. The community -- the community not only was good professionally, but I think respected what I do, who I am, where I've been. Everybody knows that I was in the service, everybody knows I was a Norwich guy. Where I live now, I wear by Norwich sweatshirts. I'm a Norwich ambassador, I love talking to potential students. I go out of my way to meet with them. SY: What advice would you give a rook coming in now? DS: The advice I give them is if you haven't been up to the campus on the hill, call the admission office, arrange for a tour and see what it is. See what you're getting into. I do not have much contact with civilian students. I'm not a big advocate of the civilian population, which comes from, where I'm coming from. But not that I turn them down or anything, but I just don't go out of my way. I'm much more interested in the kid that wants to be a cadet. SY: I don't know. Any last closing thoughts? Are we? DS: A closing thought? I hope this has been helpful. SY: Very helpful. DS: I hope it's not too abstract. I can't imagine why anyone would want to listen to it. SY: Everybody feels that way. DS: Do they really? Okay. SY: I bet if General Sullivan were sitting here he'd be like, "Why does anybody want to hear about my life?" DS: He is so smart. He is so polished. When General Sullivan speaks, do you remember an old ad that used to be on television, people are in a dining room and one, one table over there says, "My stockbroker is Merrill Lynch and they say," and then the whole screen goes silent in the dining room. When Gordon Sullivan speaks, people listen. He is so smart, so polished and such a wonderful person. SY: Was he like that at 20? DS: Yeah, good guy, good guy. Everybody liked him. SY: Yeah. So you weren't like, he has the authority to -- DS: He was a buck private. SY: I know. DS: Okay? Nobody thought he'd make corporal. When he got commissioned there was a, "Really?" (laughter) SY: A nice guy, but I didn't think that was going to happen. DS: Right. SY: So funny, you never know. Right? DS: Right. SY: You never know. All right, well I think, I think that's about it for my questions. I enjoyed this. DS: Okay. SY: Are you eating wheat this week? Or are you not eating -- DS: No, I've got some medical problems. I have -- END OF AUDIO FILE

Mike Schlosser, August 14, 2013; Mike Schlosser's grandfather outside his barbershop ca. 1930; Mike Schlosser's grandfather in his barbershop at the Healy Hotel ca. 1930 ; Business at the Crossroads - Ogden City is a project to collect oral histories related to changes in the Ogden business district since World War II. From the 1870s to World War II, Ogden was a major railroad town, with nine rail systems. With both east-west and north-south rail lines, business and commercial houses flourished as Ogden became a shipping and commerce hub. ; The following is an oral history interview with Mike Shlosser. The interview was conducted on August 14, 2013, by Woodrow Johnson. Mike discusses his experiences with 25th Street. ; 38p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 videodisc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Mike Schlosser Interviewed by Woodrow Johnson 14 August 2013 Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Mike Schlosser Interviewed by Woodrow Johnson 14 August 2013 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in Special Collections. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description Business at the Crossroads - Ogden City is a project to collect oral histories related to changes in the Ogden business district since World War II. From the 1870s to World War II, Ogden was a major railroad town, with nine rail systems. With both east-west and north-south rail lines, business and commercial houses flourished as Ogden became a shipping and commerce hub. After World War II, the railroad business declined. Some government agencies and businesses related to the defense industry continued to gravitate to Ogden after the war—including the Internal Revenue Regional Center, the Marquardt Corporation, Boeing Corporation, Volvo-White Truck Corporation, Morton-Thiokol, and several other smaller operations. However, the economy became more service oriented, with small businesses developing that appealed to changing demographics, including the growing Hispanic population. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management Special Collections All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Schlosser, Mike, an oral history by Woodrow Johnson, 14 August 2013 , WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, Special Collections, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Mike Schlosser August 14, 2013 Mike Schlosser's grandfather outside his barbershop ca. 1930 Mike Schlosser's grandfather in his barbershop at the Healy Hotel ca. 1930 Abstract: The following is an oral history interview with Mike Shlosser. The interview was conducted on August 14, 2013, by Woodrow Johnson. Mike discusses his experiences with 25th Street. WJ: My name is Woodrow Johnson and I'm here with Elliott McNaly who is running the audio-visual equipment. We are here with Mike Shlosser on August 14, 2013. Mike, this project is about historic 25th Street and the greater Ogden area, to which your grandfather had a pretty heavy role in, so let's talk about him. Can you tell us your grandfather's name? MS: George Earl Baldwin. WJ: Where is he from and how did he get to Ogden? MS: He was born in 1889 in Pahreah, Utah. It is now the most remote ghost town in the state of Utah. He was the first born of John Henry and Martha Magnum Baldwin. He was born in a one room, dirt floor, log cabin. His father was a rancher and his mother was a rancher's wife. He had one brother born three years later. After him a baby sister born five years later who died in infancy of diphtheria. He was raised in southern Utah in cattle ranching and mustanging. He was put on horseback at a very young age and put to work. To our knowledge, he had approximately a fifth grade education. We can't find too many records about that because it was basically done by the church sisters and brothers in the Cannonville area which is a smaller community about 21 miles southwest of Pahreah. His father homesteaded this area and it was considered open range for 1 raising cattle and mustanging of horses. He was put to work because another hand to work was another mouth to feed and another mouth to feed was someone to do more work. He became quite proficient at it. For the remainder of his life, he had an affinity for horses and had an ability with them that was quite remarkable to witness. He also became quite a storyteller in his later life. In his mid-twenties he married my grandmother, they referred to her as Maggie. My mother, Ila, was born in 1916. The next child was born a year and a half later, which would have been my Aunt Maxine. In my grandfather's early life, in his mid-twenties, because of what they did for a living they broke these mustang horses that they would catch in the canyons along the Arizona strip, he got hurt pretty badly and broke his back. It was just below the cervical collar, but just above his attachment for his spinal column to the base of his back just above the scapula. He always had a hump on his back from then on. They didn't have the technology to really work on people like they do now. I asked him about his hump when I was just a small boy and he told me that it was from a horse bucking him off and hurting him really bad. This is what brought him to the Ogden area because he could no longer continue to actively ranch. He brought my grandmother and mother and one daughter to Ogden with very little money. They had heard there was a need for barbers in Ogden because of the railroad station on 25th Street. He had heard that there was an opening at the Heely Hotel on the corner of 25th Street and Wall Avenue. It was quite an opulent building. I remember very vividly the marble floors and the marble 2 staircase that went upstairs to the mezzanine level. There were always people in and out. My grandfather went to barber school in Salt Lake and to my knowledge, it was 35 dollars to go to the school and it was a two week school. They taught them all the theory of barbering and shaving and those things. He did quite well in the school and when it came time to take their tests, they were going to do the shave in the morning session and the state legislature was in session at the time and the legislatures, being politicians, as we know them, took advantage of the free shave. They came down to the barber school for their free shave from the students. Pick of the draw, my grandfather wound up with the governor of the state of Utah as his shaving dummy more or less. He took the test and when the instructor came by to grade it, the governor spoke to the instructor and said, "This is the best shave I've ever had in my lifetime." He was awarded 100 percent on the shave just on the governor's say so. That afternoon they did their haircuts and he got another one of the fellows from the legislature. He had very curly hair and he had a hard time getting it cut the way the man liked it. When they graded him, they graded him at 79 points. Passing was 80. The instructor told him, "You're one point shy of graduating." The governor was sitting right across from them and he spoke up to the instructor and said, "He shaved me this morning and earned one hundred and one points." That's how he got graduated and got his license. This led to the fact that he applied for the job adjacent to the Heely Hotel and got the job. He later bought that particular business. It was a two chair 3 barbershop with a shoe shine stand. My uncle Priel would go down on Saturdays when it was really busy and help out over the years. He was also was a barber. During the 30's and early 40's it was quite a going tradition that people would go into the Heely Hotel and spend the night from the Union Railroad Station. In the morning, the men would get up and come downstairs and they would go next door through the alcove entryway into my grandfather's shop and he would shave them and if they needed a haircut he would do that also. It proved to be fairly lucrative for him. In those days a shave was 15 cents and a haircut was 25 cents. You have to shave a lot of faces and cut a lot of heads to make a living at it, so a volume business and you're only as good as your last haircut or shave, as they say in the trades. He was able to do it. He was able to make a living for his family and his family began to grow through more children. He had five daughters and one son. He was able to support their family. When the Second World War broke out, being quite an entrepreneur, because of the way he was raised where if you had an opportunity to make a dollar, you made a dollar. He found out through the grapevine that the troop trains were coming to Ogden and the word finally got out amongst the soldiers, which being in the military myself, information like this tends to have a life of their own. He made it available for the soldiers that would come up on their train layover. There were up to 22 trains a day that arrived in Ogden at the Union Station. There were as many as a thousand or more soldiers on these trains. They'd come up 25th Street when they had four hours to kill looking for something to do. 4 At this time, in the late 30's and early 40's, it was pretty wild down there. I actually know a fellow who was a beat cop for the Ogden Police Department named Vern Butcher. We used to get Vern to talk to us about these things and about the old stories. He said on any Friday or Saturday night, as a beat cop, you could walk out of any corner on 25th Street and look any direction and there was a felony going on. It was quite an exciting time for the Ogden area and 25th Street got quite the reputation because of this. Vern Butcher spent his entire working career for the Ogden Police Department down on 25th Street. He later went to work for the sheriff's department when he retired from the police department. That's how I met him, through the sheriff's department here in Ogden. My grandfather was an interesting man. He was quite a storyteller and very well known in the community on 25th Street. He was referred to as "Cowboy Baldwin" his entire life. I actually mentioned that to Vern Butcher and asked him if he knew Cowboy Baldwin and Vern looked at me funny for a moment and said, "That's your grandpa?" I said, "Yes, sir, he was." He said, "I know him very well. He was a very interesting man and cut my hair for years and would never take a dime from me for it even though I insisted. Your grandpa said that because I walked foot beat on 25th Street, if something happened to me, I deserve to be buried looking nice." Back to the original story, the soldiers would go up 25th Street looking for something to kill the time. There were numerous restaurants on 25th Street. My brother-in-law's father owned one of the restaurants on 25th Street, which I understand he is giving you a piece on this project. There were four theaters 5 downtown at that time. Now, the Egyptian is the only one left. The soldiers would go to the movies and go eat or go to a bar, or they might find some female companionship which was quite prevalent on the street. Anything you could look for, you could find. When it came time to get back on the train, because they didn't allow any alcohol on the trains, these are servicemen going to a war zone and rules didn't really apply too much to them. They learned through the grapevine that the thing to do was to go up to the liquor store on 25th and Grant Avenue and buy a half bottle of whatever particular alcohol they wanted to have and go across the street to Saco's Fruit Stand and buy a small watermelon or a large cantaloupe and take it down to the street into my grandfather's barbershop. He would charge them a quarter to go in his back room and hollow out that fruit and stick the bottle inside and get on the train. My grandmother told many stories of having to reinforce my grandfather's suit pants pockets because of the weight of all this change he brought home every day. My older sister remembers it very vividly of him coming home and putting his hand in his pocket throwing change out on the floor. As kids, we'd just dive into it. In those days, a quarter was a huge amount of money for a kid. My particular memories of the barbershop were as a young boy, we went to grandpa's barbershop every other week for a haircut. I really didn't particularly like having my hair cut, but I really did like going on 25th Street and watching the people because it was a very busy time. In the early 50's when the Korean war broke out, he did this again with the watermelon and the cantaloupe thing. From the Second World War, he was able to amass enough money that they were able 6 to put a very nice down payment on their home on 31st Street. When the Korean War broke out seven or eight years later, he was able to buy a brand new Buick Roadmaster car that they retired with. I remember as a little boy, sitting on my grandfather's lap driving that car. They used that until he passed away when I was 14. Quite an interesting life he led. He was quite a storyteller. My favorite parts of him were after they had retired, they would go up to Twin Lakes Idaho where they had a little sixteen foot Shasta travel trailer that they pulled with that old Buick. They had a 14 foot aluminum boat they would turn upside down and put it on top of the car. It was just not quite light enough that my grandfather could take it off alone. He always had to find someone to help him get it on or get it off the car. That's why one of us grandsons was sent with him to help out. My grandfather had to retire from barbering because he developed emphysema from the microscopic hair that he inhaled. The doctor accused him of being a heavy smoker, but he never smoked a day in his life. Although, he could roll a cigarette with one hand, I watched him do it. He did it for his father as a young boy. It was interesting to watch that happen with one hand. I remember that very vividly. My father asked him one time to show him how to do it and my dad couldn't do it. It was more or less a game to them. They would fish all summer long. Being of pioneer stock, my grandmother canned everything they had. You name it, if it could go in a bottle in a pressure cooker, she put it in there. She put fileted trout in a quart jar in that little 16 foot travel trailer. There was no bathroom in it and it had a heater in the floor that if it was on, you better not step on it 7 because it'd burn your foot. There was a little stove, a one basin sink with a water tank, and they had to go to town to get their drinking water. They pretty much roughed it up there. There weren't any approved camp grounds or anything, but they would go out fishing every morning and my grandmother would go with my grandfather and myself and other cousins and we would fish in the early morning hours, usually trolling. In the evening, my grandfather and I would go and grandma would stay back at camp, and that was when he told me cowboy stories which were very illuminating. He was quite good at describing the terrain and the time of the year and what he was doing and how it got to be out in that area. He told me the story of going out to check cattle one day at about 16 or 17 years of age, and as he was loping his horse across the prairie. His horse all of a sudden gathered himself and jumped. It caught him off guard and he nearly fell off. He reigned up the horse and turned him and brought him back to see what he was jumping over and there was an Indian lying there in the trail. It was an old man whose tribe had left him and moved on. This man was named Chief Wohose, he was very elderly and my grandfather gave him some water and tried to give him some food, but he refused the food. Through broken English and what little bit of Piute my grandfather knew, he ascertained that he wanted to be left alone as that was their custom to leave their elderly along the trail. Ashes to ashes dust to dust is how they looked at it. He had a lot of occasions dealing with Indians as a young boy. He was chased several times by Piute Indians down in the Bryce Canyon areas because that area was their sacred ground in the area at that time. The 8 white man was still quite a novelty to see and especially a man alone riding a horse out in that country. My grandmother was shot in the leg at 13 with an arrow by a Piute Indian who tried to catch her. She told me that her horse was too fast for him, he couldn't catch her pony. She outran him and got home with the arrows protruding out of her leg. Until the day she died she had an indentation on the side of her calf where the arrow struck her. I've asked her several times over the years about it and always got the same story that an Indian chased her as a young girl. It was a very interesting lifestyle. My grandfather, when he started his business, he really started it from scratch. He did have some business come in from the hotel next door and from the people down the street who found out there was a barber shop there and he became quite successful at it. As a young boy, I remember my grandfather had a fellow who had been a porter for the Union Pacific Railroad and in those days they referred to these black men as George Porter, because of the man who invented the Pullman car. They were the staff on the sleeper cars. They would make up the beds and clean in the mornings and assist people on and off. When the railroad did away with the sleeping cars, they were basically left high and dry wherever they were. He was originally from Mississippi and his name was Willie. I don't remember his last name and I wish I could find a record of him, but my grandfather gave him a job and he shined shoes. He had a high back wooden shoe shine stand and I believe it was a two-seater as I remember it, and it faced the window. I used to love to get up on there as a little boy and watch the people 9 going by as 25th Street was very busy in those days with foot traffic as was all of downtown Ogden. People dressed to go shopping in those days. On occasion, my grandfather would give me 25 cents, but he would make Willie go with me and we would go up 25th Street and I'd go to a movie, or buy something to eat, or find treasures in the little shops along the way. Willie always stayed with me, but he had to stay outside because of the racial barriers at the time. As soon as I came out of the store, he was right there with me. He was quite an older man and I do remember him very vividly in my mind. He was very black in color and his eyes were very bloodshot. He looked to me like he was almost bleeding from his eyes because they were extremely red. I don't know what really caused it, but I remember that he let me touch his hair. He was really the first black man I ever witnessed and I felt that his hair was very soft, but underneath it was very coarse because he used some type of a hair dressing on there. He was an interesting man. He always had some kind of hand lotion he was working with on his hands because his hands would get really dry shining the shoes. What else would you like to know? WJ: While we're touching on racism and segregation, I'd like to continue on that. Other than walking with Willie and him not being allowed in the stores that you were able to go in, did you ever see or experience any other form of racism or segregation on 25th Street? MS: I really didn't. Being young like that, I don't believe I really understood what was going on. I just knew that Willie would just tell me to go in and when I came out he'd be right there. I didn't find out until years later really what caused that, I just 10 thought he was being polite and was going to stay outside and for whatever reason he didn't want to go in there. It didn't really register with me. As a young kid, being the first black man I ever saw, he was my friend. He would have me hold his hand as we went up the street, especially if we crossed the street to the other side. I guess it was quite a sight to see a toe-headed kid being escorted up 25th Street by a black, older man, but I didn't think anything of it really. I didn't really have any more exposure until later on in school here in Ogden. We had a couple of black kids in our school and they were my friends. I really didn't experience any racism until I was probably in high school. Then I really noticed some of this stuff because they were just other kids. I played sports with them, I had gym class with them, I'd shop with them and have regular classes with them. We really didn't have what I considered to be a problem. I never heard anybody say anything bad to them because the one fellow I was in high school with was so well-liked that he was actually a member of the student council because he was a very good athlete and a nice guy. As a kid, I didn't witness any of that down on 25th street. I'm sure it happened. I do know that Willie lived in the old porters and waiters hotel and it was really the only place that black people were allowed to live in that particular part of town unless they were able to buy a home somewhere. I don't remember what happened to Willie. I'm sure he passed away or he might have moved somewhere, but I don't really know what happened to him. WJ: With your grandfather's barber shop being so close to the porters and waiters, do you recall very many African Americans coming in for haircuts or shaves. 11 MS: No, I don't recall that ever. I don't even know if they were allowed to go in the shops because of the segregation problems in the early fifties and late forties. I do remember that the people who would come into the shop to get a haircut, shave or have their shoes shined knew his name and would speak to him because he was right there in the beginning of the shop when they came through. They always seemed to be very polite to me. That was probably an overtone of the time I'm thinking, but he seemed to be able to make a living. My grandfather kept him there for a long time that I can remember. He was kind of like a fixture there at the barber shop. He would also do clean up things and sweep the floors and stuff like that to make himself useful and helpful. I don't remember any people on 25th Street that weren't white. I don't remember that at all. WJ: So, obviously it was very busy during WWII and we covered that. You would have seen more of the Korean War era, do you have any memories of being around the soldiers on 25th Street or in the barbershop. MS: I have a vague memory of it. I don't know if this memory is of an actual occurrence or if it was something that was told to me later on in life, but I do have a vague memory of some soldiers being in there. I don't really remember too much about it. WJ: Do you feel that with both WWII and Korea ending, Vietnam used a lot of different forms of transportation, do you feel that the railroad leaving hurt your grandfather's business. 12 MS: I think so. I remember as a kid, going down to the railroad station and going through the underground tunnels that took you out to the different tracks that were going through. I don't remember how many there were, but there were a number of tunnels that you would go downstairs under the tracks and come up on the other side. I remember that we used to hear the trains all the time and the whistles blowing and so forth. Later in the sixties, the train service started to change. Airplanes became more popular and people started to fly and it was faster and cheaper to fly. I did notice a decrease downtown of people coming through. It was a very busy hub railroad station. My grandfather retired in about 1963 or 1964 and I really didn't go back down to that area until my high school years. I do remember it and I remember my father saying things like he couldn't get certain parts anymore for some of the tractors because the trains weren't coming often enough to bring freight in and things of that nature. WJ: There are lots of rumors of tunnels and opium dens and those kinds of things on 25th Street. Do you have any experience with these tunnels at all? MS: There was a trap door in the back room of my grandfather's barbershop. In the photo you'll see the grape stakes of the back wall and it was behind there. You went through that doorway into the back room and it was a fairly small room, maybe 20 feet long and about 10 feet wide. In the one corner there was a trap door in the floor and I do remember going back there one time and that door was open. Prior to that, it was pretty heavy floor and I probably didn't pay too much attention, but I did see the trap door open and I went down the stairs and they were old, wooden, rickety 13 stairs and it smelled funny. It was kind of a musty smell. At the bottom of the staircase there was a big steel door that was set into the wood frame that was locked because I tried it and I couldn't get through it. Years later, I asked about it and that was one of the doorways that went into the tunnel system, which to my knowledge is under the gift house today. That's where the barber shop was, where the gift house is built now, which is owned and operated by Scott Vanleeuwen. There are some places still in downtown Ogden that have those. I do know that over on 24th Street, under the old paint company is where the pony express office was and underneath that are some of the adobe stalls they used for the horses and things of that nature. I have seen that, but as far as up and down 25th Street, I've never been in the tunnels, but there was always talk about them. WJ: Did your grandpa say anything to you about his tunnel entrance. MS: Yes, he told me to get up out of there and he was a little stern about it. That's really the only thing he ever said to me about it. I was so young then that probably if he did say anything about it. It was kind of a curiosity for me to see the open hatch and the staircase that went downstairs and it really did have a funny smell to it as I remember, but I don't have any real experience in the tunnels themselves. WJ: When we were here before, you did mention very briefly that your grandfather was friends with Harm Perry. Do you remember anything about Mr. Perry? 14 MS: I don't. I do remember that he went to my grandfather for his haircut for years. They were friends. I know that my grandfather contributed to his campaign a couple of times. They had a very close relationship, but of course, Mayor Perry knew everyone in town. To this day, people talk about how well he interacted with the businessmen downtown and how he brought the Pioneer Days Rodeo to town and installed all these traditions that we now celebrate here in the Ogden area. As far as meeting him, I don't remember meeting him. I may have, but I don't know. The gentleman in the photograph, we have no idea who he is in the barber chair. I initially thought it might be the mayor, but it's not. We compared a picture and it's not. WJ: Do you remember your grandfather sharing any Harm Perry stories? MS: I don't really unless it would be something that was related to me later in life. I don't remember him telling me too much about any of that. I do know they were friends, I know that much and they were business associates and that he cut his hair for many years. WJ: Behind every man is a better woman, as the saying goes, and you mentioned your grandmother, Maggie, before. I was wondering if you could tell us about her since she obviously is such a huge part of your grandfather's life and your life, so I'd like to hear a little bit about her as well. MS: Well, my grandmother, Maggie, was born in Cannonville, Utah. At fifteen years of age, she met my grandfather, and they began a relationship that lasted for well over 50 years. She was of pioneer stalk and her father was a polygamist who married two sisters a few years apart from each other. He had 17 children by 15 those two women, of which the first wife passed away after her seventh child and her mother would raise all of those children. Her half-sister, we refer to her as Aunt Maude, lived in South Ogden and I have very fond memories of Aunt Maude. She was the youngest of the children, my grandmother was the second youngest of the children from the second marriage. My grandfather was called to go on a mission for the LDS church. This would have been right around 1917. My mother was about 3 months old when he left, which left my grandmother and mother home to take care of themselves in a log cabin on what was left of the family ranch. My grandmother took a job cooking for the miners up the canyon which was 13 miles further up the canyon. She would have to get up at 4 in the morning and get the fire going in the stove because there was no heat in the building. She would get breakfast started and go out and feed the stock and get the horse hitched up to the buggy and when she finally had everything warmed up and ready to go and had my mother fed, she would heat rocks and she would wrap those rocks up in cloth and put them in with my mother to keep her warm, as she was a very tiny baby and she would drive the 13 miles up to the mine and cook breakfast and lunch for the miners. In the afternoon, she would start the dinner work and another woman would come up and feed the miners the evening meal. She would go home and take care of her garden, animals, and her way of life to keep herself alive and keep my mother alive. While my grandfather was on his mission, he was in Tennessee, and he told me the story that he and his companion were walking down side of the road 16 and it was extremely hot and humid. He was not used to this kind of weather being from the desert country of Utah. He said that he had a fan in the button hole in the lapel of his coat and in those days the missionaries weren't allowed to go around in just church sleeves, they had to have their jackets and a tie on all the time. He said that it got so hot and he sweat so badly that it melted his waxed collar to make the collar stand up. It actually melted to where it just kind of fell down around his neck. They were walking along a truck came by with some men in the back of the truck and they stopped alongside my grandfather and his companion and asked them what they were doing and explained to them that they were on a mission for the LDS church and the men in the truck milled around for a few minutes and asked them again, "What are you doing?" They said, "We're on a mission for the LDS church." "What is the LDS church?" "Well, we're Latter Day Saints, Mormons." They understood what that meant and the men wanted to know why they weren't in the military because the draft was being instigated for World War I at this time and they explained to them that they have a deferment because they were on a mission from their church. The men didn't buy that and they got out of the truck and surrounded my grandfather and his companion and beat them within an inch of their lives. The men threw them in the back of the truck and hauled them into Nashville and threw them in the county jail. It took three days before my grandfather was well enough to even walk because they beat him up so badly. He was finally allowed a phone call and the only phone that was in Cannonville, Utah was in the general 17 store. He called that number through the operator and they sent word up to the cabin that he had called and would be calling back later and my grandmother came into town and waited for the call. He explained to her what happened and she was quite concerned and he asked her to tell the bishop what was going on so they could get someone in the church authority to get him out of jail. She went to the local bishop and was told that he was too busy getting his winter crop in and he wouldn't have time to do it for at least a week. He wasn't sure of the timeline and this didn't sit well with my grandmother. So she drove the buck board out to where the stake president lived and spoke with him about it and pretty much got the same story. She went back home and stewed over this for not very long because she was a very determined person, and at this time weighed about 90 pounds and never stood more than five foot four in her life. My mother was four or five months old. My grandmother basically was not going to stand for being put off. She hitched up the buck board and put together enough provisions to last her a few days and bundled my mother up into every quilt and blanket that she had and headed out to Salt lake City from Cannonville. It took her three days camping on the prairie. This story was relayed to me by my grandmother on several occasions and other members of my family. This was in the dead of winter. I can't imagine being in an open buck board trying to drive this horse across the prairies of Utah on goat trails and cow trails. There were very little roadways to speak of all the way into Salt Lake. Once she got into Salt Lake, she said, "I really looked a fright. My hair was all out of place and I was very dirty, but I went straight to the 18 church's general authority's office building and went inside with your mother in my arms." There was a man secretary sitting up on this big desk on a small platform and when he recognized that she was standing there he asked if he could help her and she explained to him what was going on with my grandfather. The gentleman came back at her with, "Do you have an appointment?" She explained, "No, I don't have an appointment. I have just arrived here and I drove myself with my tiny baby all the way from Cannonville in the buck board." The gentleman said, "Well, you'll have to make an appointment and you're probably going to have about a two week wait." This infuriated my grandmother. She had just about all she was going to have about being put off and she went back out to the buck board and as her story went, she said to me, "I reached in above the blanket and the seat of the buck board and took out a 30/30 rifle and walked back inside the building right up to the man in front," and in her terminology, not mine, hers, she said, "I fanned a bullet into the chamber and slammed the butt of the gun down on his desk and said I will see the president of this son of a bitch, and I will see him today." She did. They took her back to Cannonville three days later in a stagecoach that the church paid for. One of the brothers from Salt Lake drove the buck board back. They put her up at the fort halfway for the night so she didn't have to sleep out on the prairie and they paid for that also. I think she made a fairly good impression on the fellows downtown in the church of general authorities and my grandfather was out of jail. Two weeks later they did it to him again. It was the same type of 19 scenario. My grandmother told the story as a continuation of this story. This time she said with a twinkle in her eye, "Mikey all I had to do was tell the bishop this time." As the saying goes, "Crap rolls downhill." I guess it came from Salt Lake down to the bishop that this was not good. There was some other legislation that took place somewhere and someone in authority got involved in this. As I understand it, reading some of the history, it was fairly common for the missionaries to be accosted like this because the church was not really well thought of in those days. Sometimes you just had to stand up for yourself. I know that my grandfather did not resist them because he told me himself. WJ: Earlier you mentioned Vern Butcher. Do you know of any of his stories of 25th Street? MS: He did tell us quite a bit of stories there in the break room and about a couple of shootings that he was involved in. He was actually shot as I remember. Don't quote me on that, but as I remember he did get shot in one of those. It was either shot or stabbed. Vern was a big man. He probably stood 6'5" and weighed well over 250 pounds. You didn't have a small man walking foot beat on 25th Street. He told me that just like in the big cities they carried a knight stick and he got quite proficient with twirling it on the leather thong that it had to hold on to it. He said that in those days there were no radios for the police. They had a red light on the city and county building and when a call would come in, they would turn that red light on and it would flash and they would know to go to a call box and call in to see what was going on. You always would walk out of whatever business you'd just been in and keep your eyes peeled up toward the city and 20 county building. This was in the days before there was a lot of trees downtown that had grown to full size. The city and county building only being 10 or 15 years old at the time. He talked about a number of ladies of the night that were prevalent on the street. He talked about the bars and the fights that went on and the soldiers that met trouble on the street in one form or another. There was quite a bit of that going on because they were taken advantage of by the flim flam artists as they called them in those days. I don't remember too much more about what Vern had to say, but it was very spell binding to listen to him. He was not a man to stretch the truth and if he said that he bopped somebody on the head with a knight stick, he thumped him. I do know that when you arrested someone when your afoot, you had to walk him to jail. If the friends were around, they didn't want you taking him to jail, they tried to take him away from you. You had to be very determined about what you were going to do. He also told us on one particular occasion that sometimes you couldn't do anything because you were all by yourself or you had your partner with you and there wasn't anything you could do to stop what was going on because you were out-numbered by the amount of people out there. It's the sign of the times of the 30's and early 40's. WJ: When we were here for the pre interview. You mentioned a man only known as "Airplane." Can you share some experiences there? MS: I don't remember his real name as we called him wino. He was an alcoholic and he lived on 25th Street. He would stay in the cheapest hotel or he would sleep in the back alleys or in cars. He had been a certified public accountant as a young 21 man and alcohol took over his life and he was quite a small man when I knew him. This was in the mid-70's that I knew him. The reason they called him "Airplane" is—because of his gin soaked brain I guess you could call it, he would mimic an airplane in flight. He'd put his arms out and make noises like an airplane and bank his arms when he went around a corner or made a turn. The particular night that I remember him the most for was I had just come out of the sheriff's office in my patrol car and was sitting at the red light at 25th and Grant Avenue and I was going to go straight through the intersection and out toward the county area when I saw some movement coming toward me, which would be going south on grant Avenue. I could see a person coming at me, but I couldn't tell what they were doing and it was about 11 at night and it was winter time and it was cold and I had my window rolled down about halfway and I could just faintly hear the noise he was making. He sounded like an airplane coming toward me and he banked really hard to make the turn to go west on 25th Street and he had his head down and when he made the turn he turned just a little bit too wide and went head first into a parking meter. I do remember hearing the parking meter make a twang sound that only a piece of steel can make when it's hit with something really hard and of course "Airplane" went to the ground into the gutter and I looked over and saw him and honestly, I laughed. It was pretty comical to see. I thought, "Well, he'll get up." I sat there for a moment more and he didn't move and I thought he hurt himself bad or possibly killed himself. He was moving pretty fast as he came around the corner. I pulled over there and he was semi-conscious and murmuring and blood was everywhere, he'd split his head open 22 from the back toward the front. He was bleeding pretty badly. I felt bad for him. He stunk really, really bad. I don't know how long he'd lived in those clothes. I do know that the Ogden officers used to go out and round these guys up when the weather would get really bad and they'd take them up and put them in jail just so they wouldn't freeze to death on the street. The judge in the Ogden Municipal Courts would fine them and they didn't have the money, do they'd take the jail time anywhere from a week to thirty days. They'd take them up to the jail and they'd change their clothes out and wash them down with a hose because most of these fellows lived in their clothes for a long time and they did every bodily function they could do in their clothes while they were under this alcoholic stupor. Some of these guys were pretty pitiful to look at. I watched several of them go through DT's in the jail. There really wasn't much we could do for them other than refer them to the nurse. "Airplane," as he was referred to, being in Ogden City on 25th Street, the Ogden police department really didn't like the sheriff's department to make arrests on 25th Street. Of course, this fellow was injured and was also intoxicated. I called our dispatcher and they said, "An Ogden officer down." He came down and he was in a brand new El Camino police car and he had his dog in the back in an insulated box that the dog rode in with a wire mesh gate on the front of it. As soon as he saw how bad Airplane was bleeding, even though I had given him a great big sterile pad to put on his head to help stem the flow of blood, the Ogden officer refused to put him in his patrol car because it was a brand new patrol car. As I said earlier, "Airplane" stunk really bad and it was the kind of stink 23 that you just don't want to be around. This Ogden office would not put him in the patrol car and he finally decided and he looked at me and I said, "I'm not taking him," I told him, "This is Ogden City." He went to the back of the patrol car and he dropped the tailgate and opened the door and took his dog out and walked him around and put him in the front seat. He went back and picked up Airplane, who was a very small man, and put him in the dog house and shut the door. A fellow came by from Ogden Police Department's crime lab and he took a photograph with "Airplane" with his fingers through the grate and looking out and blood on his face. That picture hung up in the downstairs evidence room of the Ogden Municipal Building for many years afterwards and I was witness to that happening. It was a pretty comical deal. I do know that several years later there was a fire at the Marion hotel and the Ogden officers got there first before the fire department even got there and they entered the building. That particular officer drug out a couple of those guys and saved their lives. He went back up inside to try and get some more of those fellows and he found "Airplane" and he had expired from smoke inhalation. He carried him out of the building and he sat on the curb on 25th Street and cried holding this little old man because he had nobody in the world and the officer knew who he was and dealt with him for years and he just felt really bad that he wasn't able to do more for him. I know that haunts him to this day, I know it does. He's still a police officer, but I won't give you his name. 24 WJ: You mentioned that the sheriff's office and the Ogden City Police Department shared some ground, but they preferred that you didn't touch 25th Street. Do you have any stories, other than dealing with Airplane, in or around 25th Street? MS: I have a number of them. Ogden city called us one night and they had a fight going on in a bar on 25th Street, El Borracho, I believe was the name of the bar as I remember. It was a large group of Hispanic men fighting and it boiled out into the street and it got pretty bad. The Ogden officers didn't have enough guys on duty that were clear, that weren't on calls, to handle it and they called us for help. We happened to be very close by, which was a rarity for the sheriff's department. I do know I was sent to a fatal accident and I was in Hooper when I got the call and the fatal accident was at mile marker 43 on Monte Cristo and I was the closest car. That's over 55 miles that I ran code 3, lights and siren. When I got to the accident scene I couldn't even hear because the siren was above your head on a light bar in those days. This particular night, I believe it was a Friday night, in the winter time again and we went down there and we didn't actually get inside. As I remember, we didn't even make it inside the building and the Ogden officers were grabbing people and pushing them out the door. They would say, "Take that one, let that one go." It was a pretty physical fight. There were a lot of guys that were bleeding and a lot of yelling and a lot of confusion going on. I remember we put four fellows handcuffed in the back seat of our patrol car and we kind of just piled them in there. We hauled them up to the jail and when you go to the ninth floor of the old city and county building, we had a holding room and it was basically a 25 steel room with a steel door and a little window and it had a couple of benches in there bolted to the wall and nothing else. There were no bathroom facilities and no water or anything. We would put prisoners in there until we could get them in individually to have them booked in at the screening desk which was an iron graded shield in front of the desk. The jail officer would stand behind that screen and ask them questions to get them booked into jail. We threw these guys in there to hold them and in the meantime, Ogden Police were bringing people in too. There were quite a number of fellows, I don't remember how many, but there was probably somewhere between 8 and 12 people that got arrested out of this. Some of the fellows were a little banged up and we stared taking guys out and we were just helping because being with the sheriff's department, the booking officer, there were two men on a midnight shift in the jail and it got a little hectic for them trying to get all these people taken care of and all the paperwork involved. I was helping to get this done and I more or less wound up being the guy that got the next guy out of the cell and brought him in. We'd put him up against the grading fence in front of the booking desk and we'd search them and take their property from them that had to be kept with a jailer like their belts and shoelaces and any money or anything in their pockets and things. Because it was winter time we were taking their coats also. We brought probably six or eight fellows in and got them booked, which probably took about a half hour to 45 minutes to get all of them booked. We finally grabbed one fellow and I brought him out and stood him up by the wall and I started to check his pockets. He was very verbal with me. He was 26 calling me every name you could think of and was extremely hostile and intoxicated. We started checking him and when I went and reached over to take his coat off I walked behind him and took it off his shoulders and brought it down over his arms. He had a knife sticking out of his chest. We got his ID out of him thinking he was an adult because he was in the bar. He was seventeen years old. We had to take him up to the hospital and that was the end of my night in the jail because they had to do surgery on him to have the knife removed. He didn't bleed very much and it didn't kill him. I remember the expression on the jailer's face when he saw that knife sticking out of his chest. He had a couple of choice words to say to us about searching him. I said, "I didn't search anybody, they came out of that bar handcuffed and we grabbed them and threw them in the car." This fellow probably went 45 minutes to maybe an hour with a knife sticking out of his chest inside his coat. WJ: Wow. I imagine you've seen a lot then. Is there anything else you'd like to share with us? MS: My grandfather was an interesting man, he really was. In his local ward, he was a high 70's and I do know that when somebody would not show up for their talk on Sunday in the sacrament meeting, they would call on my grandfather to fill in at a moment's notice. He was always able to come up with some interesting story to talk about with his relationship with the LDS church and his ideas of religion. He was very highly thought of in his local neighborhood and ward. In later years, after he passed away the neighborhood changed very much. Minorities started moving into the neighborhood and I do remember as a teenage boy mowing my 27 grandmother's lawn and I spent a lot of time down there taking care of her yard. Because of her age, she wasn't really able to do that kind of work. She had a very good relationship with two different black families there on the block and I remember one fellow walked by one day just as I got there on my motorcycle and he came walking over to me and I'd never seen him before other than maybe once or twice around the neighborhood. He walked over to me and said, "Who are you?" I said, "Well, I'm Mike." He said, "What are you doing here at Miss Baldwin's?" I said, "She's my grandmother I'm going to mow her lawn." He said, "Okay, just wanted to know what you were doing here." They watched out for her because she was a little old grandma and looked like a grandma and acted like a grandma and she was very sweet to anybody, it didn't matter what color you were or what religion you were, she was a grandma and that's how everyone referred to her. My grandfather and my grandmother are buried in South Ogden. We were just there not too long ago with another aunt and one of their children. It was interesting to walk over to my grandmother and grandfather's headstone and talk to them for a moment. I hadn't been up there since I was a kid. It was kind of interesting to see how the area had changed. When we buried my grandfather there was a very small pine tree just in front of his grave and that pine tree is huge now. He's been gone probably 47 or 48 years now so a lot of history has gone on. 25th Street had changed a lot in those years. Now it's very much a tourist attraction and eclectic place to go for dinner or the shops that are down there. That's really all I have about that part of their lives. 28 WJ: Thank you so much for sharing with us. MS: You're welcome. It was my pleasure. 29

- n i-f^Jk^ t A; NOVEMBER, 1899 ooTheoc Qettysbur Mercery that the drama was indebted for a great improvement in this respect. He gave to the dithyramb a regular lyric form, and arranged it to be sung at these festivals by a trained chorus of fifty. To this chorus was given the name cyclic, inas-much as it was grouped around the altar. The chorus now be-came a very important factor in the drama. Neighboring towns vied with one another in producing the best bodies of trained singers ; large prizes were frequently offered to this end, and as a result of constant emulation numerous improvements were con-tinually being made. Although the Dorians had most to do in originating the drama, it was allotted to the Athenians to bring it to its greatest perfec-tion. Thespis (536 B. C), seeing that the existing mode of per-formance was more or less wearisome to the audience, conceived the idea of a dialogue between the leader and one of the members of the chorus, chosen especially for the purpose. The leader stood upon a raised platform, and in the pauses of the choral song, conversed with this member of the chorus, or the answerer (hypo-crites) as he was called. Besides the addition of this actor, or a?iswerer, Thespis made various other improvements. He in-vented dances in which he carefully trained the choristers; he changed the metre of the chorus, and gave to the whole perform-ance a larger element of unity than had theretofore characterized it. The organization of the chorus was further improved by Phrynichus (512-476 B. C.) who introduced the custom ofsub-divid-ing it into smaller bands when the nature of the play seemed to demand it. He dismissed everything light and farcical, and for the themes of his plays resorted to the mythology and history of his country. Instead of satyrs and buffoonery we now have heroes, princes and their attendants. In this we see the dawning of real tragedy. Although there were a number of writers intervening between Phrynichus and Aeschylus (525-456 B. C), they were ofminor im-portance; and it is to Aeschylus that we now turn our attention. It was reserved for this great writer to make some important and lasting changes in the drama; of these we state but a few of the most important. Aeschylus introduced a second actor, and thus THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 201 made possible a dialogue, independent of the chorus. This change had the effect of making the choral song secondary to the dia-logue and thus bringing the drama to its maturity in permitting the presentation of a complete scene before the eyes of the audience. He furthermore introduced into his tragedies many imposing spectacles, and made their execution more vivid by improving the expression of the mask, making the costumes richer, and intro-ducing the use of the cothurnus. Aeschylus was a very prolific writer, and his works rank among the very best in the language. It is interesting to note that he was the first to set the example of competing with trilogies, combinations of three tragedies, con-nected more or less in thought and supposed to be acted successi vely. We come now to the part played by Sophocles (495-405 B. C.) who was in his time the favorite tragic poet of Athens. L,ike Aeschylus he was a very prolific writer of plays, and his produc-tions are of the highest merit. He also made some improvements in the drama as he found it. Of these the principal are the fol-lowing : He added a third actor; made further improvements in the costume; invented the krepis, a boot of white color, worn by both actors and chorus. He furthermore increased the number of singers in the chorus from twelve to fifteen. His plays abound with grand and heroic personages, and are frequently character-ized by the supernatural element. His language is pure, majestic and highly poetical. He and Aeschylus stand forth as the two great masters of tragedy. To complete the list of the great dramatic writers of Greece who are known to us of the present day, we need but add the name of Euripides (480-406 B. C). This writer though ranking in general popularity with Aeschylus and Sophocles, was in some respects greatly inferior to them. His independent and at times reckless style has caused him to be greatly criticised. He has been accused of breaking in upon poetic harmony for the sake 01 novelty and effect, as well as of belittling the dignity of the gods. Euripides instituted the following changes in the drama: a cur-tailment of the function of the chorus and an expansion of the function of the messenger. He was also the first to use the pro-logue. Euripides was inferior to Aeschylus and Sophocles in the vigor and artistic moderation as well as beauty of his works, but he nevertheless was the author of many excellent productions and deservedly ranks with the world's great tragedians. —C, '00. 202 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. MUSIC AND SHAKESPEARE. IT is always interesting to examine the opinions of a man con-cerning the work of a fellow-craftsman ; but it is still more interesting to examine the expressions of a great artist about the nature and functions of an art differing from his own. There seems to be a somewhat widely-spread belief, that litterati are most miserably misguided in their opinions about a corresponding line of art work, i. e. music; but it will become evident upon an examination of the works of any great writer, e.g. Shakespeare, that this opinion is fallacious. It must be born in mind while we consider this subject, that the music described by Shakespeare, differed somewhat from that of to-day; the very term "music" would invoke different ideas among different classes of people and at various periods. It is probable that Shakespeare never heard anything like a Modern Concert Grand Piano, unless with the imaginative ears of genius ; so we must be careful not to think of sixteenth century music in nineteeth century ideas. No poet or musician has written more brilliantly or sympathetically about music than did Shakespeare. Possessing wonderful versatility, handling an immense array of subjects with great mastery of detail and happiness of expression, we find the '' Bard of Avon'' as much at home when he touches the bounds of the tonal art, as he is in all the other departments of knowledge. Besides recognizing the beauty of music, he appre-ciates its great power and influence, and shows his complete mas-tery of the art, such as it then was, by his frequent expressions of technical ideas. In Merchant of Venice, Act 3, Sc. 2, he puts into the mouth of Portia this poetical description of the character of music : "And what is music then ? Then music is Even as the flourish when true subjects bow, To a new-crowned monarch : such it is As are those dulcet sounds in break of day That creep into the dreaming' bridegroom's ear, And summon him to marriage." Further on in the same play, Lorenzo and Jessica hold quite a discourse about music; it is full of beautiful imagery : "How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank, Here will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears, soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 203 Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold : There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubim ; Which harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it." And further, Lorenzo gives us the familiar,— "The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night And his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted." This passage, however, when tested by actual experience, will not always hold true; Shakespeare evidently felt thus it ought to be. Somewhat similar to it is the following from Julius Caesar, Act i, Sc. 2,—characterizing a cynic : "he looks Quite through the deeds of men ; he loves no plays, As thou dost, Anthony ; he hears no music ; Seldom he smiles." About the great power of music this passage from Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 2, Sc. 2, bears witness: "I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song ; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music." Again in Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act 3, Sc. 1, we have:— "For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews, Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones ; Make tigers tame and huge leviathans Forsake unsounded depths to dance on sands." Of its power over the human soul and mind, Benedick, in Much Ado about Nothing, Act 2, Sc. 3, tells, in this figure:— "Now Divine air! Now is his soul ravished ! Is itnot strange that sheeps'guts should hail souls out of men's bodies?" And in Romeo and Juliet, Act 4, Sc. 5, this passage, with a similar idea, occurs: 204 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "When griping- griefs the heart doth wound, And doleful dumps the mind oppress, Then music with her silver sound, With speedy help doth lend redress." Then, too, the King in Henry IV., when stricken and looking about him for relief, commands: "Let there be no noise, my gentle friends Unless some dull and favourable hand will music whisper to my weary spirit." Lucrentio, in Taming of the Shrew, gives expression to a well-known use of music, when he says : "Preposterous ass! that never read so far to know the cause why music was ordained, Was it not to refresh the mind of man after his study and his usual pain?" The mental effect is brought out by the King in Richard III:— "This music mads me." And the Duke in Measure for Measure, tells of the moral effect: " 'Tis good; though music oft hath such a charm, that it makes bad, good and good, provokes to harm." Allusion to the close connection between music and love, is made in Act i, Sc. i, Twelfth Night, when the Duke says:— "If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so, die." And Cleopatra asks for the same kind of food, "Give me some music; music, moody food Of us that trade in love." In Love's Labor Lost, Act 4, Sc. 3, we find a musical simile of love: "For valor, is not Love a Hercules, Still climbing trees in the Hesperides? Subtle as Sphinx; as sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; And when Love speaks, the voice of all the Gods Make Heaven drowsy with the harmony." So, also in Romeo and Juliet, Act 2, Sc. 2, we have "How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears." The "Music of Nature" is referred to, in many passages through-out Shakespeare's works; such expressions as "murmuring THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 205 brooks," "high-singing larks" are frequent. In The Tempest, Act 3, Sc. 2, Caliban reassures Stephano, after hearing Ariel's pipe, "Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not." And Stephano replies—with a note of self-interest:— "This will prove a brave kingdom for me, where I shall have my music for nothing." In the next scene of the same play, Alonzo says:— "The winds did sing it to me and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ pipe, pronounced The name of Prosper." That our author was well acquainted with the technique of music, is evidenced by the frequent occurance of such terms as "divi-sion," "discord," etc., and by the several passages concerning time-keeping. The King in Richard III., Act 5, Sc. 5, utters these words: "Music do I hear? Ha! ha! Keep time. How sour sweet music is When time is broke and no proportion kept." And the base Iago says, in Othello, Act 4, Sc. 1;— "That's not amiss; But yet keep time in all." In Romeo and Juliet and in Two Gentlemen of Verona, other especially good examples of a technical use of musical terms are afforded, that deserve mention. One finds many places in Shakespeare's works where inciden-tal reference to the art is made, throughout his other productions too, aside from the plays, there are numerous bright gems that glow with musical beauty and to follow up and present them, is a most interesting and enjoyable pursuit. In conclusion we would quote the words of the tired king, Pericles: "The music of the spheres, list my Marina; most heavenly music It nips me unto listening and thick slumber Hangs upon mine eyes; let me rest." a^p —W. W. P., '00. It would be an unspeakable advantage both to the public and the private, if men would consider the truth that no man is wise or safe, but he that is honest.—Sir Walter Raleigh. 206 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. A CHANCE MEETING. NOT many years ago, on a beautiful day early in the fall of the year, a Southern gentleman left his home in Georgia to visit the battlefield of Gettysburg. This battlefield had a peculiar interest for him because he had taken part in the great Gettysburg battle. It was the first time he had visited the battle-field since the day of the battle. He was accompanied by his wife and daughter, an accomplished young lady just passing out of her 'teens. They arrived at Gettysburg and went to a hotel. At this same hotel was John H. Stephens, from New York, who had taken part in the same battle. His son was with him and as they sat in the lobby of the hotel, the Southern veteran, entering with a paper in his hand, took a seat near them and began to read. The Union veteran glanced at him and thought he had seen that large Roman nose before. Several times afterward, he saw the man and thought that he had seen the face but was un-able to place it. In the afternoon of the next day both parties visited the battlefield. On the other side of Culp's Hill the New York gentleman and his son alighted from their carriage and walked toward Spangler's Spring. The old gentleman led his son to a large rock which was hollowed out on one side and said to him : "On the second day of the battle we were struggling in this vicinity and were driving the rebels back. I was rushing on with the rest of my comrades through the dead and wounded, when suddenly I was seized by the leg and almost fell to the ground. I looked down to see the cause of this sudden hindrance and there lying at my feet was a rebel soldier beckoning me with his hand. I stooped down to examine him and found that he was badly wounded in his hip and the blood was streaming from a wound on his head. He began to talk in a low voice and I bent lower in order to hear what he had to say. He began. 'There is a small village down in Georgia where a mother and small child are waiting for the return of the father, but he never will return. I feel that I am getting weaker and I would like to ask a favor of you before my lips are sealed forever. That mother is my wife and that child, my daughter. My name is Ralph D. Benson. If it would not be asking too much, I would THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 207 like you to send a message to them if you can get a chance to do so. This is the last request of a dying man and I believe you will not disregard it.' I told him to go on as I saw his voice was getting weaker. 'You just tell her,' he said, 'my love for her has remained the same throughout the trials and turmoils of this war. Tell her that I kept up my spirit with the thought of returning to my dear home never to leave it again. But that dream has now faded away. Tell her my last prayer is, that God may protect her and the child.' He murmured a few more words which were unintelligible and then became unconscious. His appeal had touched me, for my thought went to a home in New York State. The man's face had such an earnest look while he was speaking, and as he lay there a sad, but tender smile played about his lips. He still breathed heavily and I resolved to remove him to some shelter if in someway he might yet recover. I lifted him up and half dragged, half carried him to this very rock you see before you and I placed him in this cavern. From the small spring you see yonder," he said, pointing his finger toward Spangler's spring, "I brought water and bathed his face and forced some water through his lips. I left my canteen with him in hopes that he might regain consciousness and have use for it. Then I was at once compelled to leave and hurry after my regiment." "That was indeed, a very peculiar happening," replied the son, "but it seems strange to me that you should try so hard to save the life of a rebel, especially in the midst of battle." "That may be strange," answered the father, but as I said before, the man's tale touched me and there was something about the man that I admired—he had such a noble, honest-looking face." At this moment their attention was attracted by the creaking noise of a carriage descending the winding driveway and the voice of a guide repeating the story of that portion of the battle which occurred in that particular place. As the carriage approached they recognized the occupants to be the venerable gentleman, whom they had seen at the hotel, his wife and daughter. When they came nearer the rock, the old man arose from his seat and told the driver to stop the horses. He then said to the guide, "I know too well about the contest which took place here, for I participated in it myself. The battle is as fresh in my mind as though it had happened but yesterday. We were being driven r^ 208 r//^ GETTYSBURG MERCURY. back when I received this wound which I carry to-day," he said, laying his hand on his hip, "and as I fell, I struck my head against the gun of one of my fallen comrades. It dazed me for a few moments, but I soon awoke and found that my regiment was being driven back by a New York regiment. I was bleeding freely from my head and side and was beginning to think that my end was close at hand. My thoughts went back to my home in the South and I would have given anything to be there if only for a few minutes. The thought struck me then to send a message, if possible, to the dear ones at home. I attracted the attention of a passing soldier, gave him what I thought would be my last messsge on earth which he promised to send to my wife. Here is a link in my story which I often have wished could be supplied, but there is only one person who can do that and he may be dead now. The next thing I remember, I awoke with a great pain in my head and everything in utter darkness. I felt around with my hand and touched nothing but cold stone. Be-side me lay a canteen from which I took a draught. I soon called the attention of some passing soldiers who lifted me from the shelter in which I was placed. I recognize this very rock and I have kept the canteen on which are inscribed the initials, J. H. S." By this time Stephens knew the man before him to be the man he had saved and, as he finished his story, Stephens stepped up to him and said: "If you can recall the rock in which you were placed, look at me and see if you can not recall the soldier who placed you there. My name is John H. Stephens and it is my canteen from which you drank. So give me your hand, comrade, we have drunk from the same canteen." Benson was struck speechless for a few moments by this unexpected revelation but gave a hearty grasp to the hand which was placed in his own. He soon regained himself and said: "This meeting I consider one of the most fortunate events of my life. Often have I longed to see the brave man who so generously saved nry life and to whom I am so deeply indebted. That moment has at last arrived and when least expected. What is most surprising is that we meet where we last parted, but, thank God in very different relations." They chatted on in this way until the sun had descended behind the hills and it was time to depart. They still had much to say so they arranged that both the old gentlemen should go back in THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 209 the same carriage and leave the younger members to take the other. This arrangement was very satisfactory to the younger pair and they made no objections. They went back to the hotel and spent the evening together. The old gentlemen told stories principally of their own experience in the war, while the young folks found no difficulty in enjoying themselves. It was a late hour when they retired that night but they were all up early as Stephens and his son intended to leave that morn-ing. They parted with many regrets and arrangements for future meetings. As they were about to separate Benson said, "Don't let anything hinder you from coming to see me next month, as we have arranged and be sure to bring your son with you." "I will come," answered Stephens, "but I can not speak for my son as he never did like the southern climate." But the merry twinkle in his eye and the smiles that appeared on the faces of all told that there was not much danger on that score. The two old gentlemen entertained a very warm friendship for each other from this time and made annual visits together to the battlefield of Gettysburg. But a still stronger friendship sprung up between the son and daughter which finally resulted in making a still closer connection between the two families. —H. A. L., '01. "SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER." Considered Historically and Critically. [GRAEFF PRIZE, HONORABLE MENTION.] OLIVER GOLDSMITH lived and died, and considered as a man, his life was a failure; but thought of as an author, one is obliged to exclaim "One of the few, the immortal names That were not born to die." Literary work always betrays in some manner the life and characteristics of its author, and in no production of merit is the writer revealed more fully than in the works of Goldsmith. In his essays we recognize the hand-to-mouth journalist and the struggling genius ; in the compiled histories we see both the hand of a master of beautiful style and the carelessness of a debtor ; in the Vicar of Wakefield we get an inside view of his father's family as it was during his boyhood days ; in the Traveler we see N 2IO THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. the homesick wanderer ; in the Deserted Village we hear the la-ments of the man over the decaying surroundings of youth ; in the Good-natured Man to have a testimony of his generous na-ture ; and She Stoops to Conquer immortalizes a supposed episode of his school-days. Thus all through his works we see the author as he was. But after all he is best revealed to us through the agency of his novel and his poems ; and it is a conceded fact that when he abandoned poetry for prose, the world became that much poorer. However, necessity, as a law, considers only self, and when the need is money it bows not to the general good of mankind. Poetry made him famous, but poor men cannot live upon fame ; so to supply the money to silence impatient creditors, he compiled histories. " I cannot afford to court the draggle-tail muses," he said to Lord Lisburn, " they would let me starve, but by my other labors lean make shift to eat, to drink, and have good clothes." While he was working at paying compilations however, he wrote the Vicar of Wakefield. That work elevated him to the front rank of prose writers, and " the success which had attended him as a novelist emboldened him to try his fortune as a drama-tist." Accordingly, " he wrote The Good-natured Man, apiece which had a worse fate than it deserved." " In 1773 Goldsmith tried his chances at Convent Garden with a second play,—She Stoops to Conquer." The history of the production of this play is rather peculiar, and illustrates the error of judgment, by which even competent men are led astray at times. At the time a coolness existed between Garrick, the great English actor, and Goldsmith, caused, it is said, by the actor's criticism on the character of Lofty and other supposed defects in the Good-natured Man ; but this coolness was not as frigid as it had been shortly after the unpleasant criticism ; and it is evident from his conduct, that the author would have submitted the new play to his estranged friend at Drury Lane had it not been already promised to Colman, the manager of Convent Garden. It is also evident from subsequent developments that Garrick would have ac-cepted the play. Goldsmith was usually reckless in the matter of fulfilling his promises, but in this he was honorable and gave the play to Colman. It seems that Colman was unconscious of the real merits of the manuscript, and kept it in his possession for months • THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 211 without replying to the author, impatient for a decision. Finally, when the "fountain of patience" was exhausted, Goldsmith wrote to the manager, begging him to give a decisive answer, and not keep him in suspense any longer. He promised to remove, without argument, any objectionable parts of the play ; and said that he would refuse to allow it to be submitted to any other judg-ment save the manager's own. He concluded by saying, " I have, as you know, a large sum of money to make up shortly ; by ac-cepting my play I can readily satisfy my creditors that way, at any rate I must look about to some certainty to be prepared. For God's sake take the play and let us make the best of it, and let me have the same measure at least which you have given as bad plays as mine." To this appeal Colman replied by returning the manuscript, upon the blank leaves of which he had written "distasteful re-marks," renewing his previous promise, however, to produce the play at some future time. This discourtesy provoked Goldsmith to such an extent that he offered the play to Garrick, but Johnson, the author's tried friend, persuaded him to withdraw it, saying, as an argument, that it would be disadvantageous to take it from Convent Garden in such an abrupt manner. Then Johnson had a strong interview with Colman and persuaded him with "much solicitation, nay, a kind of force" to produce the play. Colman disliked the play and predicted its failure, even after he was seemingly compelled by Johnson to produce it. After considering its merits, such a judgment seems very strange to us. Colman was not alone in the matter of condemning it, how-ever, for some of the best actors joined in chorus with his dislike and refused to take any part; but their places were filled by others and the rehearsal began. But even then the end of all difficulties was not yet in sight, for the piece was without a dignified name. The Mistakes of a Night, which is now the second title, was considered too low for the play. "We are all in labor," said Johnson, whose efforts to have the play produced were enthusiastic throughout the whole period of disappointment and delays, "for a name to Goldy's play." The Old House a New Inn was suggested by one of the literary wits, but that, too, was dismissed on the plea of its awk-wardness. Then Reynolds, the great artist, announced to the I f 212 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. members of the club what he thought would be an appropriate title—The Belle's Stratagem. This name was still under consid-eration when, it is said, Goldsmith, in whose mind Dryden's lines may have reverberated, "But kneels to conquer but stoops to rise," suggested, She Stoops to Conquer. The night of March 15, 1773, having arrived, the play was produced by Colman at Convent Garden. It is said, that Gold-smith dined that day with his friends, and, says Sir Joshua, "nearly choked" with agitation. When they started for the theatre, he turned his steps in a contrary direction, and wandered about in St. James Park. But the triumph of his grand comedy was complete. Contrary to the expectations of the manager and many of the actors, it proved a very brilliant and triumphant success for its author. George M. Towle says, speaking about Goldsmith's death, "Exactly one year after the hisses at the Good-natured Man had been gloriously avenged by the roars of applause and laughter over She Stoops to Conquer, Goldsmith was struggling with his fatal illness. Still a drudge and a debtor, still struggling with money troubles, still a poet for fame, but a hack for bread, his buoyant spirits at last succumbed." A uervous fever laid him prostrate, and on the morning of April the 4th, 1774, when asked by his doctor, "Is your mind at ease?" he replied, "No, it is not." These were his last words: the great genius sank untimely, though wearied, into an unmarked grave, leaving "She Stoops to Con-quer" as a lasting monument of his literary triumph. "The candid critic is a gentleman of whom all authors approve if he praises their last volume. 'What I wanted,' they explain, 'is no gush of praise, as from a friend; but simply a calm, just re-view, slating my work if it deserves slating, commending it if it deserves commendation.' Noble fellows. Then when the critic, who is very young in this case, observes that the work bears dis-tinct traces of genius, is Shakespearian without Shakespeare's coarseness, reminds one of Milton in his best moments, and sug-gests Tennyson before the Poet Laureate's hand lost its cunning, the author smiles gently to himself, and repeats that what he wanted was an honest criticism, and he thinks he has got it." THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 213 The kind of criticism which Mr. Barrie describes in the fore-going quotation is only too common in current literature. Praise, not justice, is that which is wanted by the average author. But when we consider the fact that there are only a few living master-critics, we will not be surprised when we read the so-called criti-cisms of literary productions. Criticism is an art, and only those who devote a whole life-time to its study can ever hope to master it. To criticise any work, whether of a poetical, fictional, scientific, philosophical, historical, or dramatic character requires a master-knowledge of the subject on the part of the critic. Dramatic criticism requires an additional preparation—that of observation, for only by observation can the technique of acting be mastered,—perhaps, even then, participation in the renderings of the play may be required. If this be true, dramatic criticism is the most difficult of all. Nevertheless with all due regard to the greatness of the task before us, we humbly offer the following criticism of She Stoops to Conquer. Time establishes the value of anything ; and when a play con-tinues to be popular one hundred and twenty-six years after it was written, it must be of more than ordinary merit; and such, indeed, is She Stoops to Conquer There is, however, a dispute about this play which has never been settled, i. e. is it a comedy or a farce? The Encyclopedia Britannica says, '"The Good-natured Man had been too funny to succeed; yet the mirth of the Good-natured Man was sober when compared with the rich drollery of She Stoops to Conquer, which is, in truth, an incomparable farce in five acts." In Chambers Encyclopedia we read that "he escaped from enforced compilations (Histories of Rome and England, History of Animated Nature) with his best poetical effort, The Deserted Village (1770); and three years afterward achieved the highest dramatic honors by She Stoops to Conquer; still one of the most popular of English acting comedies.'' Horace Walpole, as quoted by Mr. Black in his Life of Goldsmith says that She Stoops to Conquer is only a farce. Prof. Ward in his Eng. Dramatic Literature says that Farquhar's Beaux Stratagem "is written in the happiest of veins; and may be regarded as the pro-totype of Goldsmith's She Stoops to Conquer, like which it hovers rather doubtfully on the borders—not always easy to determine— 214 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. between comedy and farce." Black's Life of Goldsmith speaks of the play as being a comedy ; so does Forster in his Life and Times of Oliver Goldsmith. Other authorities, such as English Men of Letters, Irving's Biography of Goldsmith, essays and magazine sketches could be quoted ; sufficient could be adduced to show conclusively that this question is a mooted one. But what is a comedy ? What is a farce ? The Encyclopedia Dictionary, one of the stardard works of its kind, says that a comedy is " a dramatic representation of a light and amusing nature, in which are satirized pleasantly the weak-nesses or manners of society and the ludicrous incidents of life." If this is a true definition of the limits of pure comedy, then She Stoops to Conquer is not a comedy in all its parts. It is a " dra-matic representation of a light and amusing nature," but it is not a satire on the "weaknesses or manners of society;" and the "ludicrous incidents of life " which form the ground-work of the play are either the work of the poet's imagination or a grossly exaggerated " incident of life." The best narrative of this " incident " is given by Forster ; " at the close of his last holidays, Goldsmith, then a lad of nearly seventeen, left home for Edgeworthtown, mounted on a borrowed hack, which a friend was to restore to Lissoy, and with stores of unaccustomed wealth, a guinea, in his pocket. The delicious taste of independence beguiled him to a loitering, lingering, pleas-ant enjoyment of the journey ; and instead of finding himself under Mr. Hughes' roof at nightfall, night came upon him, some two or three miles out of the direct road in the middle of the street of Ardagh. But nothing could disconcert the owner of the guinea, who with a lofty, confident air, inquired of a person passing, the way to the town's best house of entertainment. The man ad-dressed was the wag of Ardagh, a humorous fencing-master, Mr. Cornelius Kelly; and the school-boy's swagger was an irresistible provocation to a jest. Submissively he turned back with horse and rider till they came within a pace or two of the great Squire Featherstone's, to which he respectfully pointed as the ' best house' of Ardagh. Oliver rang at the gate, gave his beast in charge with authoritative rigor, and was shown as a supposed-ex-pected guest, into the comfortable parlor of the squire. Those were days when Irish inn-keepers and Irish squires more nearly THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 215 approximated than now, and Mr. Featherstone, unlike the- ex-cellent but explosive Hardcastle, is said to have seen the mistake and humored it. Oliver had a supper which gave him so much satisfaction that he ordered a bottle of wine to follow; and the attentive landlord was not only forced to drink with him, but with a like condescension the wife and pretty daughter were invited to the supper-room. Going to bed he stopped to give special in-structions for a hot cake to breakfast, and it was not till he had despatched this latter meal and was looking at his guinea with a pathetic aspect of farewell that the truth was told him by the good-natured squire. The late Sir Thomas Featherstone, grand-son of the supposed inn-keeper, had faith in the adventure, and told Mr. Graham that as his grandfather and Charles Goldsmith (Oliver's father) had been college acquaintances, it might be the better accounted for." Was this episode a real one in Goldsmith's life? If so, why did he wait so long before he used it ? The question is un-answerable. It is very probable, however, and may have oc-curred ; and if did occur it comes within the limits of pure comedy, although it is grossly exaggerated in She Stoops to Con-quer, and that exaggeration comes near, if not altogether within the domain of faice. A farce, according to the previously-quoted dictionary, was " originally a petty show exhibited in the street; now a recog-nized performance at the theatres. The difference between farce and comedy is that the latter keeps to nature and probability, and therefore is confined to certain laws allowed by critics ; whereas farce sets aside all laws upon occasion. Its end is to make merry, and it sticks at nothing that may further it.'' Hence the dialogue is usually low, the persons of inferior rank, the fable or action trivial or ridiculous, and nature and truth everywhere heightened and exaggerated to make more palpable ridicule." If this be a correct definition, then a number of the parts of She Stoops to Conquer are really farcical. Scene II of Act I is farcical to the de-gree of vulgarity ; too low for reception by polite ears. It was, we are told, incorporated into the new play by the author to get revenge on the public for condemning the scene of the bailiffs in the Good-natured Man. Other scenes of the play are farcical; but so far as unnaturalness and palpable ridicule are concerned, noth-ing in the entire play exceeds Scene II, Act V. 2l6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Taken altogether, She Stoops to Conquer is neither wholly a comedy nor wholly a farce; for if we draw a line between the provinces of comedy and farce we will see that this play could not be placed on either side of the line entirely,—in one place it must be classed as a farce and in another as a comedy. But it is unimportant so far as the merits of the play are concerned—they are so numerous and evident that everything else appears of small moment. The ambition of the author was to please the public and for financial profit, not binding himself in so doing by the rules laid down by critics. Rules of grammar and criticism are good enough for the talented writer but, the genius is above them. Goldsmith has been accused of stealing ideas from Farquhar, the great Irish dramatist, but whether he did or not is a secret which died with him. It is true that the junior Marlowe's charac-ter resembles that of Capt. Durette in Farquhar's, The Inconstant, but the resemblance is too weak to convict our author of stealing, for there were undoubtedly bashful men in real life when Gold-smith lived and wrote whom he could study and use as proto-types. Perhaps he himself is the original of the character, for we know that he was "free among creatures of another stamp," but we have no accurate knowledge of his conduct "among women of reputation and virtue" during hisyouuger days. Again it is said that Farquhar's "Beaux Stratagem" is the prototype of "She Stoops to Conquer." This may be true, but it seems strange that a man of superior literary attainments should copy from an inferior or use as a model the work of another man when the ground work of his own production was suggested by an episode in his life. Perhaps Goldsmith was present at a performance of Beaux Stratagem or he may have read it, and the impressions made upon his mind in either case might have influ-enced him while he was writing his second play; but if such an influence was present why was it felt only in the second play,— excluding utterly the first? The author is dead; his lips are sealed; so it is impossible to gain an answer from that source ; but the fact seems evident that Goldsmith invented his own plot, employed his own methods and constructed his own form. Whatever resemblance exists between the two plays is merely accidental. From a literary point of view, She Stoops to Conquer is a great improvement on The Good-Natured Man. The dialogue is THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 217 more easy and natural, the style is more refined, and the thought more lofty; but, then, defects are nevertheless apparent, able to be seen by the critic at a glance. —JOSEPH H. KEUER. "THE RISE OF THE DUSKY OLD MAN ELOQUENT." "The conditions of success are universal and unchangeable." —Douglas. MANY visitors to the Nation's Capital have fixed their gaze upon a tall, broad-shouldered man, whose strong, intelli-gent, and kindly face, framed in snowy beard and hair, seemed to possess an irresistible attraction. Inquiry brought the answer, " It is Frederick Douglas." This foremost of Africo-Americans was born a slave,—he supposed in 1817,—on the eastern shore of Maryland. He was separated from his mother in babyhood. When he was seven years old she made a last visit, walking twenty-four miles in a single night that she might see him. At the age of nine years he was sent to Baltimore where a kind mistress taught him to read; but her husband forbade her to give further instruction, declaring it would unfit him to be a slave,—the best reason for learning him to read. He learned all possible from his playmates; and picked up the art of writing at a ship-yard and from the copy-books of his young master. Soon there fell into his hands a copy of "The Columbian Orator," in which there were speeches of Fox and Pitt. These he read and studied repeatedly, each time with increased delight; and to them attributed the development of the oratorical ability which afterwards enabled him to command the applause of listen-ing throngs. When he was sixteen, he was sent back to the plantation and, for the first time, made a farm hand. Here he saw the lash and felt its stinging stroke. His first attempt to escape failed, but in 1838, in the disguise of a sailor, he boarded a train for New York, and in twenty-four hours was in a free state ; but he was not a free man,—only a fugitive,—nor did he ever feel safe until eight years later he "made a present of himself to himself, the expense being $750." I I s 218 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. When this negro bought himself he was famous, not only in America, but also in England, where he was kindly received. In 1839 this "graduate of a peculiar institution with his di-ploma written upon his back " made a speech before an Abolition meeting, which speech W. L,. Garrison declared to be worthy of Patrick Henry. From that day to the day of his death—a few years ago—Frederick Douglas was the recognized leader of his race. " He was not only the leader, organizer and adviser of his race, but he was an eminent man among men " and held positions of prominence under the government. He was one of the greatest orators and one of the greatest men of the century. His work is done; his deeds are recorded ! The world knows his worth as a statesman and reformer, and recognizes his power as an orator ; but a more important lesson may be learned by the student from his surmounting obstacles and overcoming difficulties. L,et him impress upon our minds the truth of the opening sentence and the following lines :— " It is a great thing to be an Englishman ; it is a great thing to be an Irishman ; it is a great thing to be a German ; but it is an incomparably greater thing to be a man." —'01. EDITORIALS. THERE are three men in college whose departure would be a blessing. One is the man whose marvelous abilities are never appreciated. Somehow or other, though his talents beyond doubt indicate highest genius, his narrow-minded fellow students cannot see them. Therefore he grumbles and talks con-stantly of " how things are run around here." The second man is he whose destructive tendencies show themselves whenever a body of students assemble at night. Certainly his nature is very low whose impulse on such occasions is to destroy college or any other property. The third man is he whose conversation ostra-cises him from nearly every student in college, for few of our stu-dents are not gentlemen. Without these three men, who we are glad to say are few and far between, Gettysburg would be better off. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 219 A few weeks ago in an editorial of the Gettysburgian were re-marks complimentary to the MERCURY. Since the Gettysburgian always has been most loyal to Gettysburg in spite of dishearten-ing opposition and ridicule, we make no apologies for giving our sister paper the praise she has so long deserved from us. When the Gettysburgian was first published college sentiment strongly opposed it. It was thought that the paper was gotten out for the financial interests of its publishers, irrespective of the effects its publication might have upon the regular college journal. However, its founders believed that the Gettysburgian, as a weekly, not publishing " literary" articles, would in no way in-terfere with the success of the monthly, but in fact would stimu-late the latter and benefit college by giving it a weekly publica-tion ; as for the financial success of the paper complete reliance was placed upon its merits. That the founders in their expecta-tions were right, two years of hard-earned and triumphant suc-cess have proven. Although the Gettysbitrgian, whose existence compelled the MERCURY to assume a form exclusively literary, was for a long time regarded by the monthly as an unfriendly rival, to-day the two papers are published without thought of competi-tion other than the most pleasant. The Gettysburgian publishes the news of college, while the MERCURY publishes examples of the literary work done in college. Each has its own sphere, and we are glad to say is keeping in it. As for " personalia," prob-ably the most interesting news to alumni, the Gettysburgian ranks with the first college papers in Pennsylvania. Most college publications contain in each of their issues ar-ticles on exchanges. On account of rivalries and differences be-tween institutions, no college paper cares to say much about the defects in exchanges and so the exchange article, though invari-ably interesting, is too often pardonable flattery. The MERCURY seldom contains an article on exchanges because if her true criti-cism is given, she will be misunderstood and she does not wish to give any but her true criticism. We do not say that very favor-able criticism should not be given when deserved, but criticism favorable when not deserved is altogether wrong; and of this wrong, publications of colleges in the highest standing are fre-quently guilty. 220 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. THE HEROES OF MANILLA BAY. I. They come, they come— And the rolling; drum is drowned by the nation's cheer. Huzzah, they come ! Our sailors come! Back from the Orient wave, they come— The bravest of the brave, they come ! Rejoice, rejoice, Columbia— Raise high thy voice, Columbia: "Our brave come home !" Thunder the cry From zone to zone Nor let it die Until its echoes carried hig-h Reach the patriots gone before ! Oh, the story of their glory Is and evermore shall be A tribute to the great and free Land of God and Liberty. II. And home they came, Strong, true, the same brave hearts that knew not fear. In peace, they hear again the roar That they had heard in distant war On that great day The First of May, When Dewey steamed into Manilla Bay. To enter meant death— And the world held its breath As, "Steam ahead," The hero said, And they steamed straight ahead ! Then the guns shook the deep, And the breezes that sweep Round the world Bore to us the news of the fight— And we knew when they hurled Solid death at the foe, Since God loves the right, How the battle would go. Yes, our thundering guns shook the deep, And the heart of Spain sank with her fleet— A famous day, That First of May, When Dewey steamed into Manilla Bay ! THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 221 We praise them not for what they did So much as what they dared to do, For every man on every crew Faced what he thought was death. III. Over the plains, across the sea That knocks at the Golden Gate, We offer the hand of Liberty To a benighted state. We would give all men freedom, We would give life for right; We cannot withhold army or gold While man has not the light! * * * * Our God, who made us Do Thou aid us To do right! Remove our blindness And in kindness Give us light ! The great Republic, loving right, Implores Thy guidance through the night— In Thee we trust, For Thou art just, In Thee, our only King, we trust: Roll back the clouds, great God, and give us light! —"ZUR.' The wild November comes at last Beneath a veil of rain ; The night winds blow its folds aside, Her face is full of pain. The latest of her race, she takes The autumn's vacant throne: She has but one short moon to live, And she must live alone. —Stoddard. In rattling showers dark November's rain, From every stormy cloud, descends amain. —Ruskin. 222 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. HARMONY OF CHARACTER. CHARACTER exhibits man at his best. As a circle can be a perfect one, only when every part of its line is equidis-tant from a common centre, so man can be perfect only when his conduct is controlled by the action of some great central principle. As the beauty and the splendor of a painting depends upon the proper blending of its colors, so the beauty and the splendor of human character depends upon the proper combina-tion of every good and essential quality. As a diamond reaches its highest worth and shines at every point only when cut and polished with the greatest care and attention, so man reaches his highest development, and shines before the world and before his Maker, only when he has pruned himself of every excessive prop-erty and has polished and refined every good and essential quality to the standard of God himself. The effect of great success is produced by a harmonious combination of every good and essen-tial quality. As the lack of a single shade of color may hinder the productiveness of the artist's picture, so the lack of a single qualification may hinder the productiveness of all the rest: or as, the excess of one atom of oxygen in its composition changes water, that aqueous element without which there can be no life, into hy-drogen di-oxide, which, if taken into the system is poisonous, so the excess of one qualification may undo all that the proper action of the rest have accomplished. "Men carrying the stamp of one defect, their virtues, else be they as pure as grace, as infinite as man may undergo, shall, in the general censure take corruption from that particular fault.'' How was it with that most interest-ing young man of the Scriptures, who in all the eagerness of self-confidence stood complacently before his master and asked: "Good master what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" And with what elation of soul did the young deceiver listen to the words of the great heart-searcher. "If thou wilt enter into life keep the commandments." And with what audacity and feelings of ex-ultation did the young man reply: "All these have I kept from my youth up. What lack I yet?" By a single stroke: "Yet lackest thou one thing," all his hopes are crushed. However spotless he may have been, however energetic or industrious or intelligent, he yet lacked that one essential quality, the absence of which for aught we know, was fatal to the life of that young man. Who will deny that Lord Byron's life was a failure ? Lord THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 223 Byron's? a life which but for low and degrading passions would have gone down to posterity as a model of excellence and of beauty; a life which but for that wayward and irritable temper should thunder in the ears of every young man as a model. "Character is the spiritual body of a person and represents the individualization of vital experience, the conversion of uncon-scious things into self-conscious beings." By character we mean the possession of such qualities of heart and mind and soul as shall give a useful, valuable and beneficial direction to human effort, stimulate it to untiring diligence in its pursuits and fortify it against great discouragements. Its aim is high in every depart-ment of life, social, moral and intellectual. It seeks the greatest possible good to the greatest possible numbers. Its benevolence spends itself upon the wants of others and in its ample folds it embraces the wants and the necessities of man whenever and wherever found in all pursuits and conditions of human life. It travels over land and sea. Like an angel of mercy descending from above and winging its flight throughout the world, it goes wherever the footsteps of man have gone and dispenses blessings, wherever human misery may be relieved or human want assisted. Such is the proper standard of human character. We take it that success in life depends upon the degree of effort put forth and its continued application. "I went by the field of the slothful and by the vineyard of the man void of understanding and lo, it was all grown over with thorns, and thistles had covered the face thereof, and the stone wall was broken down; then I saw and considered, I looked upon it and received instruction." In all the pursuits of life, emulation is the most powerful spring of the efforts and improvements of man. A virtuous, praiseworthy and commendable desire to excel, constitutes one of the safest prin-ciples by which a young man can be guided. The pages of history glow with instances of heroic daring and devotion that seem in-credible, and can only be accounted for by this principle. The plains of Marathon and Thermopolse furnish striking examples of the prowess and undaunted energy of man when this principle is fully developed. What was it that enabled Columbus to conquer the most unsurmountable obstacles and peril the dangers of an unknown sea ? What was it that made Regulus proof against the tears of his friends, thelove of his wife, the affection of his children, the fear of death ? —"FRITZ." 224 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Fie upon thee, November ! thou dost ape The airs of thy young- sisters;—thou hast stolen The witching- smile of May to grace thy lip, And April's rare, capricious loveliness Thou'rt trying to put on ! —-Julia C. R. Dorr. Dreary is the time when the flowers of earth are withered.- Bryant. C P. SOLT MERCHANT TAILOR Masonic Bldg., GETTYSBURG Our collection of Woolens for the coming-Fall and Winter season cannot be surpassed for variety, attractive designs and general completeness. The latest styles of fashionable novelties in the most approved shades. Staples of exceptional merit, value and wearing-durability. Also altering, repairing, dyeing and scouring at moderate prices. .FOR UP-TO-DATE. Clothing, Hats, Shoes, And Men's Furnishing Goods, go to. I. HALLEM'S MAMMOTH CLOTHING HOUSE, Chambersburg St., GETTYSBURG, PA. ESTABLISHED 1867 BY ALLEN WALTON. ALLEN K. WALTON, President and Treasurer. ROBT. J. WALTON, Superintendent. flummelstomn Broom Stone Gompany Quarrymen and Manufacturers of Building Stone, Sawed Flagging and Tile Waltonville, Dauphin Co., Pa. Contractors for all kinds of Cut Stone Work. Parties visitinjr the Quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. R. Telegraph and Express Address. BROWNSTONE, PA. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Century Double-Feed Fountain Pen. Fully Warranted 16 Kt. Gold Pen, Iridium Pointed. GEO. EVELER, Agent for Gettysburg College PRICE LIST. No. 1. No. 1. No. 3. No. 3. Chased, long- or short $2 00 Gold Mounted 3 00 Chased 3 00 Gold Mounted 4 00 Spiral, Black or Mottled $2 50 Twist, " " 2 SO Hexag-on, Black or Mottled 2 50 Pearl Holder, Gold Mounted 5 00 THE CENTURY PEN CO., WHITEWATER, WIS. Askyour Stationer or our Agent to shovJ them toyou. Agood local agent wanted in every school. ^mmmwmwmmmmmwMmmmmmmwmmgg Printing and Binding "We Print. This Book THE MT. HOLLY STATIONERY AND PRINTING CO. does all classes of Printing- and Binding-, and can furnish you any Book, Bill Head, Letter Head, Envelope, Card, Blank, or anything pertain-ing to their business in just as good style and at less cost than you can obtain same elsewhere. They are located among the mountains but their work is metropolitan. You can be convinced of this if you give them the opportunity. Mt. Holly Stationery and Printing Co. *SPRINGS, PA. ^iUiUlUilUUiUiUiUiUilUUJUiUiUiUiUlUiUiUiUMR H. S. BENNER, .DEALER IN. Groceries, Notions, Queensware, Glassware, Etc., Tobacco and Cigars. J7 CHAMBERSBURG ST. WE RECOMMEND THESE BUSINESS MEN. Pitzer House, (Temperance) JNO. E. PITZER, Prop. Rates $1.00 to $1.25 per day. Battlefield a specialty. Dinner and ride to all points of interest,including the three days' figrht, $1.25. No. 127 Main Street. MUMPER & BENDER Furniture Cabinet Making, Picture Frames Baltimore St., GETTYSBURG, PA. You will find a full Hue of Pure Drugs and Fine Sta- People's Drug Store Prescriptions a Specialty. .GO TO. f?otel Gettysburg Barber Sfyop. Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON J. A. TAWNEY 9. Is ready to furnish Clubs and Bread, Rolls, Etc. At short notice and reasonable rates. Washington & Middle Sts., Gettysburg. W.F.CODORI, sS^ti Dealer in Beef, Pork, Lamb, Veal, Sausage. Special rates to Clubs. York St., GETTYSBURG. Davib Croxd, Dealer in ^tne (groceries anb notions «_x_4Jork Street. .GO TO. CHAS. E. BARBEHENN, Barber In the Eagle Hotel, Cor. Main and Washington Sts. YOHN BROS. Agents for the Keystone State, Waldo, Washburn, Groupner & Meyer. Highest Grade Mandolins, Guitars, Banjos, Mandollas and Mandocellos. Headquarters for Phonographs, Graphophonesand supplies. Trimmings of every description. All sheet music one-half off. Large discounts on Books and studies. 326 Market St., Harrisburg, Pa. FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. Baseball ^applies, .SpalOfng's Xeague J6all, /TIMte, /Tlbasfts, Etc. Managers should send for samples and special rates. Every requisite for Hennis, ©olf, Crfcftet, Uracfe anO ffielo, ©Bmnaeium Equipments ano ©utfite Complete Catalogue Spring- and Summer Sports Free. The Name the Guar-antee.' 1 a. ©. SpalDing & 3Broe. New York .". Philadelphia V Chicago ROWE. YOUR GROCER Carries Full Line of Groceries, Canned Goods, Etc. Best Coal Oil and Brooms at most Reasonable Prices. OPPOSITE COLLEGE CAMPUS. S. J. CODORI, %* Druggist*** Dealer in Drugs, Medicines, Toilet Articles, J- Stationery, Blank Books, Amateur Pho-tographic Supplies, Etc., Etc. BALTIMORE ST. R. H. CULP PAPER HANGER, Second Square, York Street. COLLEGE EMBLEMS. EMIL ZOTHE, ENGRAVER. DESIGNER AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER. 19 S. NINTH ST. PHILADELPHIA. FA. SPECIALTIES: Masonic Marks. Society Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All Goods ordered through C. H. Tilp. Gotrell Leonard) 472-474 Broadway, Albany, N. Y. nakers of CAPS, GOWNS and. HOODS To the leading American Colleges. Illus-trated Manual, etc., upon application. Meneely Bell Co. TROY, N. Y. MANUFACTURERS OP SUPERIOR BELLS The 2000 pound bell now ringing in the tower of Pennsylvania Col-lege was manufactured at this foundry. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. You can't expect to create the im-pression that you are well dressed unless your clothes are MADE FOR YOU. Equivocate as you may, the fact remains that ready-made garments lack that air of exclusiveness which custom work possesses. J. D. LIPPY, Merchant Tailor 39 Chambersburg- St., Gettysburg-, Pa. G. E. SPANGLER, Dealer in Pianos, Organs, Music, Musical Instruments, Strings, Etc. YORK STREET, 1ST SQUARE. GETTYSBURG. L. D. Miller, GROCER Confectioner and Fruiterer. Ice Cream and Oysters in Season. 19 Main St. GETTYSBURG City Hotel, Main St. Gettysburg. *J* Free 'Bus to and from all Trains Thirty seconds' walk from either depot Dinner with drive over field with four or more, $1.35 Rates $1.50 to $2.00 per day. John E. Hughes, Prop. fm. FAMILY ONE YEAR/ rA6AINST ILLNESS. PHYSICIANS"* PLUMBERS' BILLS.DUETO IMPURE AIR. ^FR0HCL066EDDj»INS. n receipt ot $|oo KLBANYN: A&V Yort. Sos/on. PAJMe/p/>/d. CMcdgo. Sdflf/snasco, /.one/on. Ps/7S.SerM Co/os/?e. CALL ON F. Mark Bream, The Carlisle Street Grocer Who always has on hand a full line of Fine Groceries. .Photographer. No. 3 Main St., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. Our new effects in Portraiture are equal to photos made anywhere, and at any price

The College Mefcuty. VOL. IV. GETTYSBURG, PA., FEBRUARY, 1897. No. 10. THE COLLEGE MEftClPRY, Published each month during the college year by the Students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. STAFF. Editor: ROBBIN B. WOLF, '97. Associate Editors : LEWIS C. MANGES, '97. ED. W. MEISEN H ELDER, '98. SAMUEL J. MILLER '97. CHARLES T. LARK '98. JOHN W. OTT, '97. CHARLES H. TILP, '98. E. L. KOLLER, '98. Alumni Association Editor: REV. D. FRANK GARLAND, A. M., Tanetown, Md. Business Manager: HARRY R, SMITH, '97. Assistant Business Manager: JOHN E. MEISENHELDER, '97. -"","./One volume (ten months). . . . $1.(10 lijl'ms • t Single copies, . . .15 Payable in advance. All Students are requested to hand us matter lor publication. The Alumni and ex-membera ot the College will favor us by sending Information concerning their whereabouts or any Items they may think would be Interesting for publication. All subscriptions and business matters should be addressed to the business manager. Matter intended for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address, THE COLLEGE MERCUBY, Gettysburg, Pa. CONTENTS. EDITORIAL, --- 142 COLLEGE SPIRIT, - - 145 AN OYSTER ROAST, 146 COLLEGE L-OCALS, -. 14S ALUMNI NOTES, 150 LITERAL TRANSLATION OF THE IX ODE OF HORACE, - 152 OUR BABY, --- 152 ATHLETIC NOTES, --.•'■ 152 TOWN AND SEMINARY NOTES, 153 LITERARY SOCIETIES, 154 FRATERNITY NOTES, 154 EXCHANGES, 155 EDITORIAL-WE were delayed about two weeks in get-ting- out this issue of the MERCURY by the printers, who have been working night and day on the Spring election tickets THE plan proposed, in our last issue, for getting alumni news from all over the country has met with such encouraging response that it will be given a trial. The names and ad-dresses of those who have promised to help us are: Dr. Charles Baum, 630 North Broad St., Philadelphia; Rev. J. J. Young, D. D., 79 Christopher St., New York City, N. Y.; Rev. L. M. Kuhns, 2539 Pierce St., Omaha, Neb.; Mr. W. J. Gies, 2 Hillhouse Ave., New Haven, Conn.; Rev. J. Elmer Bittle, Turtle Creek, Allegheny county, Pa.; Rev. George Beiswanger, 1722 North Fulton St., Baltimore, Md.; Rev. Albert Bell, 117 East Maple St., York, Pa., and Rev. E. J. Metzler. Altoona, Pa. Several others written to, have riot yet replied. These wide awake gentlemen, loyal' sous of Alma Mater, take a lively interest in all that pertains to the history and work of the College, and the readers of the MERCURY may hereafter expect to find a newsy and lengthy column of Alumni personals. Their fellow Alumni living in their respective regions can forward items either to them or to this office. It is to be hoped that this evidence of interest in the Alumni will be reciprocated by an increasing interest of the Alumni in the MERCURY, and we suggest that one way of do-ing this would be for each subscriber to get his neighboring Alumni to send in their subscrip-tions. * * * THE "Board of Trustees" held their regu-lar semi-annual meeting on the 16th ult., H3 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. about eighteen of the members being present. Their most important action related to the date of Commencement. This has been changed from the next to the last Thursday in June, to the first Thursday in June. Several reasons lead to this. The General Synod meets the second week in June and a number of the "Board" and Faculty are delegates to the Synod. It has been learned through ex-perience that the boys don't do very good work in warm weather. The attractions out of doors seem to outweigh the attractions of-fered by the sciences. After the first of June, base-ball and tennis generally command more time and energy than study. The plan, how-ever, has some disadvantages, since College and Seminary Commencements will come on the same day of the same week. The winter term will close Nov. 26th and will open the next morning. A short recess will be given at Easter, from Thursday even-ing till Tuesday morning, thus giving the boys the privilege of celebrating the Resurrection Festival at their homes. * *- * WE were gratified at the hearty response of the boysr who are not members of the ''Staff," to the notice on the bulletin board. The pub-lication of one or two of the articles had to be deferred for lack of space. A similar notice will be put up each month, and it is to be hoped that the response will be equally prompt. * * WE desire to call attention ^o Prof. Kling-er's correction ot a mistake made in our last issue, and take this means of assuring him that the mistake was altogether unintentional and published without due consideration or inquiry. THERE is a certain feature in some of our neighboring institutions, which, if added, might be of great benefit to our Alma Mater. We refer to lectures, not only by the Profes-sors, but also by others. There are quite a number of cultivated Alumni in the neighbor-ing towns and cities who no doubt would con-sent to deliver a lecture to the student body on some educational topic. These would serve to broaden the minds of the students and would be highly appreciated. One or two lectures ,in the Y. M. C. A. course constitute all that we hear outside the class-room. The Stuck-enberg course of lectures was a step in the right direction. Let us have some others. * * * THE boys have decided to give an entertain-ment on the night of the 22nd. The subject has not yet been announced. The proceeds will be devoted to the interests of the Athletic Association. These plays are quite common at some other colleges and this proposed step shows that the Gettysburg boys mean to rank with the best. The young ladies of Irving- College have been quite successful in ther ef-forts and the boys can always do as well as the ladies. Let the coming play be made so inter-esting that it will be an inducement to con-tinue in that line and thus have the.monotony of the college course somewhat relieved. * LET it not be forgotten that the time for the "Inter-Collegiate State Oratorical Contest" is approaching. It will be held at Muhlenberg, on the 12th of March. Gettysburg is entitled to one contestant. In order to make a selection of this one, there will have to be a preliminary contest. Let there be a lot of applicants, so that the man who represents Gettysburg shall truly represent her. Let us be determined to win the prize this year. We have never yet won it and now it is our turn. It would be well for the literary societies to attend to this matter promptly. * * * SOME exception has been taken, especially by "The Yale Gettysburg Club" to some statements in our last issue in the essay on "College Literary Societies." Among others THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 144 was the statement that "Harvard always beats Yale in literary contests.'' As an explanation we would say that the essay was written some time ago and only given for publication be-cause the editor had been disappointed in sev-eral promised articles. .It was handed in on the spur of the moment and without revision. Since the writing of the essay Yale has had some signal literary victories over Harvard and Princeton, so that the words "always beats" were a little too strong and likely to create some misapprehension as to the undoubted high literary standing of Yale. * ., * "J. A. H." suggested in a previous number of the MERCURY, that there would be a larger number of Alumni in attendance Commence-ment week, if instead of the regular Alumni meeting, there would be an Alumni dinner. The suggestion seemed to meet with general approv-al, but, so far as we know, no action has been taken to accomplish this. With a little pre-sumption, we beg to offer an amendment to his suggestion, which is to substitute an Alumni dinner for the President's reception. This latter has been one of the most attractive features of Commencement week, but it has not been ap-preciated by the Alumni. One great advan-tage of the President's reception is that it affords a means of entertainment for the visit-ing young ladies, who would no doubt be ex-cluded from an Alumni dinner. But they have confessedly been so much abused of late that we think the change would be welcomed. On the other hand, an Alumni dinner would be for the Alumni and only those would attend it whose interest in the College would make the meeting very entertaining to all. We claim no originality for the above pro-posal, and it certainly is worthy of the consid-eration of the proper authorities. PHILIP MELANCTHON.—The year 1897 will be memorable as the four hundreth anniver-sary of the birth of Philip Melancthon, the scholar of Germany. All over the land of his birth, throughout the Luther-lands of Europe, and in America, and doubtless also in Eng-land, there will be "Melancthoncelebrations". Great preparations are being made for the event and the result will be a better apprecia-tion of the man and his services in the cause of literature and in the advancement of the kingdom of God in the Reformation. Some of the ablest men of our own church will deliver addresses, many of which wili find their way into permamnent form in magazine articles, and Melancthon literature will be deservedly increased. A glance over Poole's Index will be sufficient to convince one of the crying need of such literature in the English. The "Life of Melancthon" will also issue from three dif-ferent firms by as many writers in the near future. One of these is now on the market from the Pilger Co., of Reading, another will follow in early summer from the Lutheran Publication house in Philadelphia, and another in '98 from Putnam & Sons, of New York. Doubtless others besides Lutherans will join in doing honor to the memory of this great scholar, whom Luther denominated as "incon-ceivably learned". There is no doubt to be entertained of the superiority of his intellect, but his unbounded success as a writer, his prodigious learning, his purity of diction, his scholarly attainments must be attributed to this in addition, viz, that that he was an untiring toiler. Union of talent and application made him a scholar. He was a student—he studied. He determined when he went to the University of Wittenberg that "youth should study as well as frequent the university". His zeal in this "particular never abated to the end of his life. His great desire was to furnish young men with the motives and means for study. To this end he made abridgements of the various branches of philo-sophy, and reduced almost every art and science into a form which was of invaluable assistance to the student. For many years his Logic, Ethics, Treatise on the Soul, and Physics were used in all the Lutheran schools. He applied himself so earnestly to study that if II * '45 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. his friends were alarmed for his health and the elector wrote him, kindly admonishing him to be careful of his health. He studied medicine, theology, jurisprudence, and mathematics, besides his thorough mastery of languages. His success must be attributed very largely to the fact that he knew how "to toil terribly". His life has in it a lesson for the easy-going, careless student of today whose highest ambi-tion is "to get through" college, whose last thought is of acquiring an education. G, ILLITERACY OF BOYS.—In an article in the Educational Review by E. L. Godkin, on the "Illiteracy of Boys," the position is taken maintaining that our public schools give tbo little attention to English in the preparation of boys for College, and that private schools are little in advance of public schools in this par-ticular. The author says, "I meet everyday with men whom we call educated who do not seem to care how they speak or write. Their speech is full of solecisms, their letters and notes are unpunctuated scrawls and in their pronunciation the vowel sounds are summarily "got rid of." The colleges of America have in the past placed far too little stress on prepara-tion in English for admission. It was not un-til 1874 that Harvard required "any sort of Engish qualification" for entrance. One of the reasons alleged for faulty English is that in America education counts for little, socially, while in England bad grammar is supposed to indicate mean origin. Carelessness in speech is said to be growing. Many of the newspa-pers are given to slang and the language of the street, with a view to popularity. From the cradle to the college the home is a sharer in the blame for this illiteracy. Parents are too much given to "baby talk," thus cultivating a habit of carelessness in themselves and in their children. Too little attention to the matter of chaste English is given in the conversation at table and about the hearth-stone of the home. On the street children will unlearn in an hour the lessons of a week. Even publishers of books are guilty of sending forth millions of pages of trashy literature couched in wretched English. A higher standard for admission to college in English is needed and more atten-tion to the study of English in all our public schools is imperative. In our own institution the work heaped on the Professor of English literature is enough for three departments at least. Not less Latin or Greek but more Eng-lish in the classical course is the crying need of the hour in the educational work of the col-lege. G. To THE EDITOR OF THE MERCURY : I desire to correct a misapprehension of the aim of the "Philosophical Society" and of my relation to it. The society is not a "class," but simply a body of Seminary and College students, who come together fortnightly for the purpose of discussing some of the funda-mental processes of thinking, and also to talk over some of the problems of the day. I am not the "teacher" in any sense of the word, but a member holding the office of Vice President. The society was not organized by me, but is the outcome of the interest in scholarship excited in the student body by Dr. Stuckenberg's lectures. When asked by the students to become a member of such a body, I gladly consented, with the distinct understanding that I was to go in as ' 'one of the boys." I am ready at any time to organize a "class" in any subject belonging to my department, and to "teach" it with all my heart, but to trespass upon another depart-ment is neither my intention nor my right. OSCAR GODFREY KLINGER. COLLEaE SPIRIT. What is meant by college spirit? It means the love a student has for his college. It means j the interest he exhibits in her standing with other institutions, her government, her athlet- \ ics, her morals and her welfare in general. A student possessed with true love for his college will not permit her rating to be lowered, but W^i THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 146 would rather seek to elevate it; and in so do-ing see that no unscrupulous methods are em-ployed. He will defend his college from the assaults of those who unjustly attack her, as a true soldier defends his country, and would stand by his colors as firmly as a color-bearer does in battle. Further, he will assist his superiors, I mean his professors, b}' obeying them, for if he pays little attention to their counsels "he is but cutting off his nose to spite his face." There are many students who be lieve that their professors take no interest in their welfare, a belief in which I think they are very much mistaken. By what methods can a student elevate the standing of his college? One method has al-ready been given; to this may be added that he do his work faithfully and honestly, for what a student is after he is graduated will be mostly attributed to his college. For it does not ad-mit of a doubt that, all other things being equal, the alumnus of an institution who is seen by the public leading his fellows in professional, business or other pursuits will have that honor credited to the training he received at college, and thus people will be led to believe that his college is a college worthy to educate their sons. In the race for college honors, for there are some who work merely to obtain that end, a spirit worthy of honor is in that student who obtains the crown on his own merits, but words of condemnation too great cannot be spoken of that student who works merely for honor and, in addition, uses dishonest means. No true college spirit here. As an example of false college spirit there is a student in a Theo-logical Seminary who, while he was in college, was a plodder, but where he is now he can ob-tain no mark or honors and has stopped his plodding. Is this true college spirit ? Far from it. Further, in the government of an institution a true college spirit may be shown. Those who are in charge of the government do not always know what men in the march to success are the gamblers, the drunkards, and the van-dals. Those students who believe in pure government as an essential to the success of a college ought to show their loyalty and have ousted from the army these men. Surely, is not college love, loyalt}' and spirit very defi-cient here ? Next to divine law comes the moral law and such students as are immoral should not be among our number. There can be no doubt that in athletic con-tests the spirit of a college is shown as promi-nently as anywhere else. How great is the rejoicing over a victory and the brooding over defeat. The men who constitute our athletic teams should be men of true spirit, for the}7, to a certain degree, make a college what it is. So that those who are deficient in their studies, void of respect, loose in morals, should not be permitted to represent the college. College spirit has two sides, good and evil, and will make an everlasting impression upon the young man, for from the seed college spirit is reaped a habit, from a habit a character, a character a destiny. Shall it be good or evil ? M. AN OYSTER ROAST. So calm and quiet was the night. Not a sound was heard along historic Seminary Ridge except the monotonous puff, puff, puff of the engine in the steam-plant back of the Seminary buildings. The light of the mid- December moon, filtering through the naked trees, seemed to change the puffs of steam, which escaped with lazy precision and punctu-ated the silence of the night, into halos of wreath-like brilliancy. Towards the buildings which crest the hill and are inhabited by the youthful saints—for whose pretty brows the ephemeral halos were probably intended—were hurrying many gay and well-groomed couples; college widows, of established age and dignity-; society queens, of numerous ill-starred conquests; vivacious debu-tantes, of unknown possibilities; each piloted by a theological social lion. The long expected night had arrived; the I■ H7 THE COLLEGE NEERCURY. society event of the season was about to be given by these promiscuous scions of unclassi-fied genealogical trees. A whole barrel of choice oysters had been purchased. For the sake of novelty and economy, the engine house served as a reception-room, cloak-room and banquet hall. The coal dust and smutty soot flakes had been carefully removed from the j floor and walls; tri-colored bunting and multi-colored lanterns had been borrowed for the oc-casion and draped semi-artistically about the walls and girders; a long table covered with immaculate linen and illuminated by hand-some banquet lamps, also borrowed, extended the length of the room. Mr. Jones, the en-gineer, was the chefiox the occasion, but inci-dentally fed the furnaces with coal and kept his eyes on the barrel of "blue-points which had been placed right outside the door which was left conveniently ajar. It was a peculiarly novel scene, after all had assembled; "The mild eyed, ,melancholy lotus ' eaters'' never dreamed of anything quite like it. Occasionally some of the volatile products j of highly heated bituminized coal escaped from the furnaces and mixed with the prevalent aeriform matter of different origin but pro-duced no effect upon the assemblage other than a sudden ebullition ofjocosity. Anything which under ordinary circumstances would produce discomfort seemed to cause volleys of second-hand wit to ricochet impetuously along the line of hungry guests who were now, awaiting the first course of "raws." Meanwhile "Hans," "Judy," "Dick," "Pete" and "Billee," a quintettee of jolly col-lege boys, had mysteriously met in front of the old, wide-winged, Doric edifice on the college campus. After a short parley they retired into the shadow of "Gym" but quickly returned bearing something between them. As they darted stealthily from shadow to shadow, the little brown stone cherubs high up in the tower of Recitation Hall, looked down and smiled as they recognized a little, old, red wheelbarrow ill concealed among the five. They had seen such sights before. When "Hans" had led his party safely to the edge of the Seminary grove, where they say, the spectre soldiers stand in battle line on somber July nights, he placed his men on guard and started out to reconnoiter. The barrel was soon located; a signal from the captain quickly brought his four muscular companions to the coal-bin from which they silently removed the barrel. Be-fore leaving "Hans" returned to look upon the victims. While peeping through the dust covered windows he heard some belated guests approaching and lightly stepped into the shadow. "Doctor, do you smell the oysters ?'' he heard a theological professor's wife ask her husband as they approached the door, and he replied, "yes, don't they smell delicious?" and "Hans" muttered sotto voce, as he went back to his companions, "Well, I guess nit." The "robbery was soon detected and con-sternation seized upon the banqueters. Carl Browne Coxey looked like a cross between a frightened poodle and a Circassian freak, as he pushed his hands wildly through his hair, and with frightful facial contortions, said, "I'll give twenty dollars for the apprehension of the purloiners of our ostreoid bivalves." Freddie Balm, in his unseemly haste to obtain the re-ward, dashed from the building, climbed a treacherous tree to look into a darkened room, fell and broke the government fence. John Evangelical Hindall dropped his padded shoulders, blinked his eyes and said, "ei,ei,ei." Rev. Mephistopheles Crowmore, who came from the far, far west, croaked dolefully about "snakes in the grass," and "Pud" Shower, appreciating the joke, but forgetting his sur-roundings, fiercely danced the Choochie- Choochie. J. H. Arms sent to town for a few oysters and a photographer so that he might have his picture taken while in the act of eat-ing one of the "succulents" and thus prove that he had enough, anywa}'. While these incidents were occurring, Mr. Jones was flashing his dark lantern up and down the grove, and its intermittent light was observed by five young fellows, satiated with laughter and oysters, who were leaving a hid- THE COLLEGE MERCURY. den nook in Reynold's grove, and moving toward the College. Each one carried with him a fine, large oyster shell, which now adorns his room, only some fair hand has since then painted upon it an old, red wheelbarrow, with this inscription below: '■The best laid schemes of mice an' m-.-n, Gang aft a' glee." COLLEGE LOCALS. EDMUND W. MEISENHKLDER and E L. ROLLER, Editors. number have weeklies ? Pay up your back subscriptions ! This is the only way to keep the MERCURY moving. Dr. B.—"Now Mr. N. where was the Flaminian road." Mr. N., '98.—"Between Rome and Ar-menia." Hurrah ! At last we will get a new yell. It is a long felt want. Now all we need are the fellows to give it, and they are always plenty. Mr. D.—"Hamilton died by committing a duel." Probably we do speak too often about sup-porting the Spectium, but we ask 5'our for-bearance. Let each lower classman ask him-self if he is doing as much for the present Spectrum as he wants the '98 men to do for him. There is no reason, except it be our-selves, why we should not produce an annual which shall equal the annual of any other col-lege. Other colleges have no difficulty as re-gards literary material, why should we ? Surely we think we are equal in this respect to the college men of other institutions. What do you think ? Dr. S.—"What does arboreal mean ?" "Guv." '99.—"Wild. It is used when we want to designate wild animals." Already some of our boys have been out practicing base ball. It is a good idea. We expect to see the finest base ball team our col-lege has ever had. Begin work early and get on the first team. There is always room at the top. Dr. S.—"What purpose does the tail of the monkey serve." Mr. C, '98—"Apprehension. Nobody knows who stole the Sem. oysters. If you find out, report to Harmes or Cox. "That oyster supper cost us all the way twelve dollars." Mr. D., '99.—"Professor, what was that ex-ercise law ?" Prof. H.—"I suppose you mean the excise law." B., 1900 has been the first unfortunate to go through the ice. No serious results have fol-lowed. Do you think that the MERCURY can be run on wind ? No we must have money. Would 3'ou like to see the MERCURY fail, when all other colleges have monthlies and a good Mr. L., dead?" (in Greek,) "Prof, is a corpse The first one of the entertainments arranged by the Y. M. C. A., took place on Friday evening, Jan. 15th. The concert was given by the Mozart Symphony Club and was a'fine one. This concert has been the best, which we have had the opportunity of enjoying, for a long time. We have had some poor ones and we were in prime condition to appreciate a good company. Herr Hoch was the favorite of the evening and acquitted himself nobly, and much to the delight of the audience. The conduct of the student body was admir-able and was so thought by the company them-selves, who left very well pleased with their treatment. There is but one criticism to make, namely, the concert was not sufficiently well attended. Turn out and patronize the other entertainments. Some treats are in store for you. Remember, we want to see a Y. M. C. A. hall grace the campus not many years hence. One of the '99 men gives promise of making a man as noble as George Washington, inas-much as he cannot tell a lie. The following story about S., will corroberate this statement. Proctor.—"S., was that you who blew that horn?" S. '99.—"No, sir!" Proctor.—"Didn't you blow that horn ?" S—"No, sir !" Proctor.—"See here now S., don't tell me a lie, didn't vou blow that horn?" S.—"Yes, sir." Several surprising statements have already been made by some of the Juniors in Logic. F., 98 says—"An animal that swims is a a fish. Man swims. Therefore a man is a fish." "Earney" A., 97, has a ver>^ refined musi-i 1 ■ l 149 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. cal taste ; but still he thinks the young (?) lady with the Mozart Symphony Club "should have sung United States." S., '98, (In Juvenal)—translates "cum tu dcponis amiclus turgidus" as follows: "when you lay aside your dirty clothes." The Preps wonder how A. B. B. V. O., gets excused from chapel and church on Sunday. Sound sleep is a very necessary thing. E., 97, reading in papers the account of the fire at Wanamaker's Dept. store, spreads the news that "John Wanamaker's Depot store was burned." S., 1900 usually does his sleeping in French class and becomes very indignant when Dr. M. disturbs his sound slumbers by calling on him to recite "Tom" N., (class of 1919) has developed wonderful propensities for spelling—his latest spelling for dog is "D-O-Voni !" The lecture by Judge Alfred Ellison on "Kings and Queens or Earth's True Royalty," was well attended and enjoyed, despite the condition of the chapel. The lecture abound-ed in humorous anecdotes, and the lecturer recited quite a number of his own poems dur-ing the course of his talk. Again has King Death come into our midst and deprived us of Mr. H. Dee Peters, of the class of 1902. He was the step-son of Rev. D. T. Koser, of Arendtsville. He left school about the middle of December and died two weeks later from hemorrhages of the lungs, being only twenty years old. He was a young man of ability and firm Christian character and gave promise of brilliant success in college and in life. His sister, who accompanied him to and from school every morning and even-ing, must now come alone. While he was here for only one term-, and not very well known, yet his death should be an example to us, who are behind. We too, may be taken away, we know not how soon, and therefore should al-ways be ready, as he was, and not be afraid to meet our Judge. The MERCURY extends sincere sympathy to the friends and family of the deceased. [The above was inadvertently omitted from our last issue.] The Easter vacation has been shortened to five days, and the college year will end the last week in May, and Commencement will oc-cur the first week in June. This change meets the approval of the boys generally. The Photographers, Tipton and Mumper, have been seen quite frequently this term on the campus and in the buildings taking views for the Spectrum. One view, that of the whole campus, a combination of four different plates, is an especially fine piece of workmanship. This is the "dull term" of the year—noth-ing to break the monotony but the course of lectures and concerts given by the Y. M. C. A. Everyone should take advantage of them. K., '97, says that "The Gospels include Acts, Romans and Epistles to the Hebrews. Dr. H.—Mr. S., '99, How many men were in Saul's army when he went out against the Philistines ? Mr. S. (getting the signal mixed,)—30,000. Dr. H.—Did you say 3000? Mr. S.—Yes, sir. Dr. H. (who heard the prompting)—Sound must increase as it travels from the back part of the room to my desk. Mr. C, '99, remarked as he left Dr. M.'s room that the next time he visited the dutch locality of Recitation Hall he would wear his shield so as to be protected from the flying missiles which occasionally pervade that local-ity. Mr. S., '99, (on returning from a call at 11.30 P. M., decides on practicing an exercise in elocution). Taking a full breath he slowly but loudly repeats, Now—I—am—alone. Mr. C, '99, (from under the covers in an adjoining room). If you don't break that off you won't be very long. Jerry of'98 and Willie of '99, two of the crack shots on the campus, ^recently exhibited some fine marksmanship by'chasing an (idea) over the athletic field. They mistook a bundle of charred paper which was tossed about by the wind for a chicken hawk and several shots were fired before the mistake was seen. The following officers have been elected by the Seniors, for class day exercises: Master of Ceremonies, Henry W. Bikle, Gettysburg; Ivy Oration, George W. Englar, Linwood, Md.; Ivy Poem, ,J. William Ott, Rocky Ridge, Md.; Class History, J. Hay Kain, York, Pa.; Class Poem, Fred. W. Fri-day, Jefferson, Md.; Class Roll, Clifton G. White, Manheim, Pa.; Faculty Roll, White Hutton, Chambersburg, Pa.; Presentation Ora-tion, Robbin B. Wolf, Gettysburg, Pa.; Man-tle Presentation, Frank S. Leisenring, Cham- THK COLLEGE MERCURY. !50 bersburg, Pa.; Tricks, John E. Meisenhelder, Hanover, Pa.; Love Cup, Charles B. Erb, Boyertown, Pa.; Our Absent Ones, Arthur B. Coble, Lykens, Pa.; Class Prophecy, William E. Wheeler, Baltimore, Md.; Conferring of Decrees, Samuel W. Miller, Edgemont, Md. ALUiviNi- '37. In looking up the members of the vari-ous classes, the Alumni Department of the '98 Spectrum has ascertained that Thomas Means, Esq., who was supposed to be the oldest living graduate, died in Centreville, Ind., March 5th, 1894. '39. Rev. W. F. Eyster, D. D., of Crete, Neb., the surviving member of '39, is now the oldest living graduate. '41. Rev. Nathan H. Conwell, of Philadel-phia, died last summer. His death was not generally known. '42. Rev. M. Sheeleigh, D. D., read a poem at the Melanchtou Memorial Services, which were held in St. Matthews church, Philadel-phia, Feb. 16, 1897. '43. Rev. W. M. Paxton.D. D. LL. D., pro-fessor of Homiletics, in Princeton Seminar}-, preached the sermon at the installation of Rev. D. W. Woods, Jr., pastor of the Presbyterian church, Friday evening, Jan. 29. '45. Rev. Wm. Uhl died recently at Los Angeles, Cal., after having spent a long and eventful life. '46. At the recent meeting of the Board of Trustees, Rev. W. M. Baum, D. D., and Rev. L. E. Albert, D. D., were appointed a com-mittee to present the matter of providing a new dormitory, to the church at large. '52. The address of Geo. H. Spang, Esq., is changed from Bedford to Hollidaysburg. '59. Rev. J. G. Goettman, D. D., Trinity church, Pittsburg, is seeking rest and heakh in the Somerset county mountains '60. Rev. L. Groh, pastor of St. Mark's Lutheran church, Omaha, was presented by his parishioners with a handsome mantle clock. At the last communion there were seven accessions. '63. Prof. E. J. Wolf, D. D., will deliver the address at the Melanchthon celebration, under the auspices of the New York Luther League. '68. Rev. L. M. Heilman, D. D., of Harris-burg, has been suffering with bronchial trou-ble for the past few months. He spent some time in Colorado, but finding that the climate did not agree with him, has now gone to Florida. We hope that he will find relief in that sunny clime. '70. Rev. A. G. Fastnacht is editor of the York Lutheran, and Rev. W. S. Freas, D. D., '73, is business manager. Rev. Fastnacht re-cently celebrated his twentieth anniversary as pastor of one of York's churches. '77. Rev. S. Stall, D. D., editor of the Lutheran Observe), is one of the associate edi-tors of the Open Church, a quarterly magazine of applied Christianity. To the last number he has contributed a valuable article on 1' Methods of Church Work.'' '73. Rev. Dr. Freas made one of the ad-dresses at the dedication of Trinity United Evangelical church, of York, on Sunday after-noon, January 24th. '73. Rev. E. H. Leisenring preached his seventh anniversar}* sermon January 3rd. There are three young men at college from his congregation. '74. Rev, C. M. Stock, of Hanover, was elected Secretary of the Board of Trustees at. its recent meeting. '76. The Pittsburg Times of Jan. 2nd, says : "A remarkable action was taken by the Coun-cil of the First English Lutheran church, of which Rev. Wm. A. Shipman, a minister of much ability and great popularity, is pastor. Upon his solicitation an open court was estab-lished in which all literary, socialistic and soci-ological questions shall be discussed with open doors and free speech to all denominations.'' '77. The good people of Grace church, Win-chester, Va., celebrated, in a royal manner, the birthday of their pastor, Rev. W. L. Sea-brook. Both he and his family received many beautiful presents. '77. Harry M. Claybaugh, Attorney-Gen-eral for the State of Maryland, has been se-lected .as a member of the reception committee for the Inaugural Ball. '77 Rev. H. B. Wile, of Carlise, addressed the students in Brua Chapel, Sunday after-noon, Jan. 31st, the Day of Prayer for Col-leges. He also preached in Christ church in the evening to a large congregation. He is a THE COLLEGE MERCURY. very eloquent speaker and is very popular among the students. '78. Rev. Albert Bell, of St. Luke's church, York, is instructing a class in vocal music in his church. '79. Rev. Luther Kuhlmau, of Frederick, Md., filled the pulpit of Dr. Hamma, at Al-toona, Pa., recently, during the Doctor's ab-sence in Washington. '80. Rev. Geo. S. Bowers, pastor of St. Mark's Lutheran church, Hagerstowu, was re-cently presented with a large hall rack and a fine Smyrna rug besides many other useful things, by the members of his congregation. '80. Rev. L. N. Fleck, Stoyestown, Pa., was remembered by one of his Sunday Schools with a purse of money, and by another with the gift of a fine overcoat. The next conven-tion of the Allegheny Synod will be held in his church at Stoyestown. '81. Rev. S. J. Taylor, of Berlin, Pa., read a paper on "The New Birth" before the Min-isters' Club of Meyersdale, Berlin and Salis-bury at the regular monthly meeting, Feb. 1st. '83. Rev. L. M. Kuhns, of Washington, D. C, was recently in Akroii, O., preaching for pastors Keller and Lesher. '83. Rev. F. H. Crissman, ofthe Brushtown Avenue church, has been on the sick list but is now convalescent. '83. Rev. W. W. Anstadt was installed as pastor of Zion's Lutheran church, Hollidays-burg, on Sunday evening, January 17th. Rev. P. G. Bell, of Altoona, and Rev. W. A. Shipman, '76, of Johnstown, conducted the installation services. '84. Rev. L- M. Zimmerman, pastor of Christ Lutheran church, Baltimore, had a very severe attack of La Grippe recently. '86. Rev. Luther DeYoe, ofHarrisburg, Pa., is resting a little while at Atlantic City. He ministers to a very large congregation, and has been over-taxed-. He hopes very soon to be in his pulpit again. '86. The new church building at White-marsh, Pa., Rev. J. Eugene Dietterich, pastor, was dedicated on Sunday, February 7th. '88. On the 29th of Dec. Rev. S. D. Daugh-erty and his wife gave a reception to the young people of his church, in honor of the College and University students of the congregation, who were home for the holiday vacation. '88. Rev. J. M. Francis, of Columbia City, Indiana, is now writing his sermons on a new Universal "Hammond" typewriter, the gift of a few of his friends. '88. Rev. D. Frank Garland, of Taneytowu, Md., has been engaged by the Lutheran Pub-lication Society to write a "Life of Melanc-thon." The book will contain about 145 pages and is intended to serve as a hand-book. It will be published some time during the present year. '90. Rev. E. E. Blint recently held a two weeks' service in his church at Littlestown. The meetings were interesting and instructive. Rev. Blint is doing a most excellent work in his field. '90. Rev. W. J. Bucher, of New Bethle-hem, has been called to Clarion, Pa'., and will accept. '90. Rev. Noah E. Yeiser, of India, writes for the back numbers of the MERCURY and sends in his subscription for another year. Though thousands of miles away, he has not forgotten his Alma Mater. The MERCURY extends best wishes for his success in bis no-ble work. '91. Rev. Stanley Billheimer, of West Wash-ington, had his salary increased recently. Plis congregation is small, but appreciative, and owns a very valuable property. '92. E. H. Herman is in deserved promi-nence in the councils ofthe Republinan party of Maryland. '92. Rev. H. E. Berke}-, who was very in-fluential in the establishment of the new paper, The York County Lutheran, has been elected as its editor. '92. Rev. Jesse W. Ball, of Los Angeles, Cal., in a recent issue of The Littheran World writes of the polyglot character of his congre-gation, in which he has representatives of Norway, Sweeden, Denmark, Holland, an American Indian and a converted Jew. '93. Rev. Andrew J. Rudisill, of New Bloomfield, recently visited his parents near Gettysburg, and also looked up his friends at College and Seminar)'. '93. Rev. and Mrs. G. M. Diffenderfer, of Newport, visited friends in Gettysburg last month. '93. Rev. Marion J. Kline was installed pas-tor ofthe Bethlehem Lutheran church. Harris- THE, COLLEGE MERCURY. ■52 burg, Jan. 24. Rev. Dr. Huber, '55, deliv-ered the charge to the pastor, and Rev. Dr. Gilbert, '57, Harrisburg, to the people. '93. The address of Rev. Eugene E. Neu-dewitz is changed from 228 W. 10th St., New York, to 85 Wayne St., Jersey City, N. J. '95 Dr. M. L. Boyer is practicing medicine at 1309 N. 29th St., Phila., where he has a splendid practice. '95. EL L. M. Hoffman, (Yale '97) one of Yale's most prominent athletes, won another first prize at the recent exhibition in the Yale Gymnasium, for superior work on "the long horse." The prize awarded him is a very handsome gold cup, appropriately inscribed, and is the fifth trophy of the kind already won by Mr. Hoffman. The prizes previously won, were a "first" on "the side horse," "two firsts" in "tumbling," and a "second" on "the long horse." '96. W. H. Mengeslatelj' visited the College and Seminary for several days. He intends to enter the Seminary next Fall. LITERAL TRANSLATION OF THE IX ODE OF HORACE. You see Soracte deep with snow, And the trees with heavy weight bent low, And river chilled with stinging frost; Rut cheerful be what e'er the cost. Bring out the good old Sabine wine, And happy be while yet in prime, Leave else to gods who rule supreme, Whose power stills the winds most keen, The aged ash trees are unmoved, The cypress tree, the same doth prove. Ask not what chance may bring to thee. It may be sorrow, may he glee. While you are yet quite young in years, Have pleasure with the dearest dears Until old age his steps advance. Indulge at times in merry dance. Stroll on the campus and side-walks, And with the young have pleasant talks. If you in games were won't to play, Speak if light laugh did her betray. Steal golden ring from dimpled hand. She may resist, but not with stand. C. S. It., Professor—What is the difference between idealism and realism ? 'Varsity Girl—Idealism is when you con-template matrimony. Professor—Yes ; and realism? 'Varsity Girl—You get that afterward.— Philadelphia Review. OUE BABY. I heard a sweet sound soft and low, Come drifting 'mougst the trees, While on the Campus I stood frying each note to seize. I quickly urged myself to where I heard the sweet sound fall, And found out to my great surprise, It was in Phrena Hall. I stopped outside the door a while, Then quietly went in And pretty soon, just as before, I heard the sound again. The babe which made the sound I heard, Was not named John or Hannah, But merely bore this pretty name : "Our Babv"—Grand Piano. ATHLETICS. CHARI.ES T. LARK, Editor. Capt. Burns, '01, with his usual push and determination, has been getting our base-ball material together and unless appearances are very deceitful, the "orange and blue" will be represented on the diamond this spring by a finer team than she has had for some years. Our men are training hard and regular prac-tice in the "cage" and bowling alleys, is adhered to, from which there can be but good results. The problem of the pitcher is the most serious one which confronts a college team, and it very often happens that, through weak-ness in this respect, man}'otherwise fine teams fail to make the showing they should. We are indeed exceptionally fortunate in having so many applicants for this position, a number of whom have considerable reputation for their ability in this line, among which number are: Burns, '01; Dale, '00; Gladfelter, '00: Roehn, '99; Culler, '98. As most of the above mentioned men are in the lower classes we may feel sure of having good men in the box for some years to come. White, '97, who has had considerable ex-perience on his class team, will, in all proba-bility, occupy the position behind the bat, made vacant hy Tate, '96. Stifel, '00, has been elected by the Athletic Association to the managership of the Track Team of which Krb, '97, has been chosen cap-tain, and systematic practice is indulged in. The team already contains a number of ath- '53 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. letes of no mean ability and, as the new men are rapidly falling into line, we may confi-dently expect to be represented on the track by a lot of men who would be a credit to any institution. Our base-ball season will be considerably shortened, owing to the fact that College will close three weeks earlier than it did in former years, Commencement being on June 3rd. Manager Armstrong has already arranged for a number of games and has but a few more dates open. He is working hard to get a game with U. P. as we are quite desirous of crossing bats with the University. TOWN /\ND SEIVJINARY NOTES. s. J. MILLER, Editor. TOWN. A fire alarm system is being agitated in Get-tysburg, to be used in connection with the telephone. A large gong would be so placed that by touching a button at the exchange the alarm would be given indicating the location of the fire. The Lutheran Observer gives the following account of the battle-field parks at Chicka-mauga and Gettysburg. The Government has spent a much larger sum of money at the for-mer place than at the latter. Of the 3874 acres to be acquired at Gettysburg, the Government has 845 acres of which 521 acres were donated by the Gettysburg Battle-field Association. It has, on the other hand, bought 5568 acres at Chickamauga out of the 8000, within the limits prescribed by the Act. The Government has expended $758,876.20 at Chickamauga and only $251,219.46 at Gettysburg. The County Sunday School Convention will be held in this place, Feb. 23. It will likely j be held in the Presbyterian church. Rev. T. P. Ege, last Wednesday a week, at-tended the winter session of the Archdeaconry of the Episcopal church, convened in Harris- ! burg, and took part in the discussion, the sub-ject of which was the church's attitude toward the social element. A bill appropriating $50,000 for a statue of President Lincoln at Gettysburg, was passed by the U. S. Senate. About twenty-members of the Bar and Bench of Adams county attended the annual Bar supper on the evening of the 19th tilt. The occasion was an extremely pleasant one. 1 Speech-making was a very interesting feature of the evening. Judge Swope was toast-mas-ter and the following responses were made : "Some Words of Advice from the Nestor of Our Bar," Hon. D. McConaughy; "The Bench of Adams County," Wm. McSherry, Jr., Esq.; "The Bar of Adams County," C. S. Duncan, Esq.; "The Diligent Practitioner," Hon. G. J. Benner; "Our Law Makers," W. C. Sheely' Esq.; "Lawyers' Wives and Law-yers' Sweethearts," Judge Swope and Hon. G. J. Benner; "Legal Ethics," John B. McPher-son, Esq ; "Reminiscences of Our Last Bar Supper," Edw. A. Weaver, Esq.; "The Press and Its Mission," C. E. Stahley, Esq., "Rem-iniscences of Philadelphia Bar," J. L. Kendle-hart, Esq.; "Permanency of Our Annual Sup-per," Wm. P. Quimby, Esq.; "Cordiality of Bench and Bar," Judge Beales. A Farmers' Institute was held in Gettys-burg, Friday and Saturday, Feb. 12th and 13th, under the auspices of the Department of Agriculture of Pennsylvania. Day of Prayer for Colleges was observed Sunday, Jan. 31st, in Christ Lutheran church in the morning and in Brua Chapel in the af-ternoon. The morning services were con-ducted by the pastor. Rev. Herbert Alleman, and in the afternoon, under the direction of the College Y. M C. A., by Rev. Wile, of Carlisle, Pa., his theme being "Godliness." On Friday evening, January 29th, the re-cently elected pastor of the Presbyterian church, Rev. D. W. Woods, Jr., was installed. The exercises were very interesting and im-pressive and were largely attended. Rev. W. S. VanCleve presided and Rev. Wm. M. Pax-ton, D. D., LL. D., Prof, ot Homiletics in the Theological Department of Princeton Univers-ity, delivered the installation sermon. Rev. Dr. J. A. Crawford, of Chambersburg, deliv-ered the charge to the pastor, and Rev. Dr. S. A. Martin, President of Wilson College, the charge to the Congregation. SEMINARY. The Missionary Study Class has completed the course on Missionary Biography and has taken up for this term, "Missions and Apostles of Medieval Europe." Rev. Cross preached at Stone church, Sun-day, Jan. 17th. Revs. Nicholas and Ibach were out preach-ing on 31st ult. TH1C COLLEGE MERCURY. T54 Rev. Arthur Bredeubek, of the Senior class, was unanimously elected pastor of the Luth-eran church, at Thurmont, Md. Messers. Berger and Fulper made Home Missionary addresses at Flohr's church, on Jan. 31st. LITERARY SOCIETIES. JOHN W. OTT, Editor. PHRENA. The following officers were installed on Fri-day evening, Jan. 29th, 1897: Pres., Stockslager; V. Pres., Tholan; Rec. Sec, Bikle, Jr.; Chap., Woods; Mon., Miller; Critics, Bikle, Sr., Duck, Clare, Woods; Asst. Lib., Miller. The following special program was rendered by our '00 men on Friday evening, Feb. 5th. Piano Duet Gates and Frey Declamation .Bechtol Declamation - Young Essay Miss Frey Vocal Selection Quartette Declamation Hickman Essay Brandt Declamation Gilbert Declamation Hammacker Piano Duet Gates and Clare Essay .' Hurst Debate. Resolved, That despotism is the best form of government for an ignorant people. AFF. NEG. Miller, Frey, Ernest, Hummer, Weigle Clare. Vdcal Selection Quartette PHILO. Noticeable interest was taken in the first program of the term, and especially on the part of the new men. Koller and Sieber, '00, were initiated into the society on Jan. 22c!, '97. Preparations are being made for a special program to be rendered this mouth. Philo's interest in the "Amateur Theatrical" was evinced at the last meeting by the appoint-ment of a committee to consider the advisa-bility of getting up a dramatic entertainment. A complete catalogue of Yale has been for-warded to the society, for the reading room, by W. J. G., '93, on behalf of the Gettysburg Club of Yale. FRATERNITY NOTES. PHI KAPPA PSI. M. W. Weidman, M. D., '61, has been elected President of the Pennsylvania State Medical Board. Harry M. Clabaugh, '77, Attorney-General of the State of Maryland, was appointed a member of the Inaugural Ball Reception Com-mittee. S. D. Schmucker, Esq., '61, of Baltimore, and W. E. Parsons, D. D., '67, of Washing-ton, D. C, attended the recent meeting of the Board of Trustees of the College. M. C. Horiue, D. D:, '62, recently dedi-cated the new Bethany Evangelical Lutheran church, Reading. Rev. S. A. Martin, D. D., President of Wil-son College, Chambersburg, Pa., was present at the installation services of Rev. D. W. Woods, Jr., as pastor of the Presbyterian church, Gettysburg. W. R. Reitzell, '96, is studying law at Cor-nell Universit}'. PHI GAMMA DELTA. Bro. C. W. Fairbanks, Theta Deuteron, was elected by the legislature of Indiana to succeed Hon. D. W. Voorhees as Senator from that State. Bro. H. B. Wile, '77, delivered the address to the students in Brua Chapel on the 31st, ult, the Day of Prayer for Colleges, and preached in the College church in the evening. Bros. E. G. Miller. '85; D. F. Garland, '88, and L. E. DeYoe, '89, visited friends in town last month. Bros. H. L. Stahler, '82, and L. Y. Smith, '90, Sigma Deuteron, spent several days with the Chapter a short time ago. Bro. Shaar spent last Sunday with his par-ents at Steelton. SIGMA CHI. Rev. C. M. Stock, '74, was elected Secre-tary of the Board of Trustees of Pennsylvania College at a recent meeting held in Gettys-burg. Rosensteel visited the Chapter at Dickinson several weeks ago. Newton Fredericks, who left college a short 155 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. time ago, intends to enter the Lawrenceville Preparatory School at Lawrenceville, N. J. Wm. H. H. Bixler ex-'98 is taking a course in dentistry at Louisville, Ky. Garnet Gehr, '91, was elected attorney for the Commissioners of Franklin county. W. W. Good, ex-'99, has entered Troy Business College. Charles Humrichouse, ex-'97, has been made junior partner in his father's wholesale coffee and sugar house in Baltimore. PHI DELTA THETA. M. J. Killian, Va., Alpha, recently filled the pulpit of Trinity Lutheran church, Chambers-burg, Pa. D. Julian Forney has just recovered from a slight illness. Kain was elected historian of the Senior class, in place of Ott, resigned. A charter has been granted to the Case School of Applied Science, Cleveland, Ohio. The annual chapter letters, now coming in, show marked progress in all of the sixty-nine. The Fraternity is preparing to celebrate the birthday of its oldest surviving founder—Rev. Robert Morrison, Miami, '49. ALPHA TAU OMEGA. William H. Menges, '96, spent Sunday, Jan. 30th, with the Chapter. Chas. B. Erb, '97, has been elected Captain of the College Track Team. Paul W. Roller, '94, recently preached in the College church. Paul W. Kuhns, '89, of Omaha, Neb., was married a few days ago. Maurice R. Zullinger, '98, is at the Johns Hopkins Hospital, having an operation per-formed for his disease. John W. Cable, ex-'97, is a student at F. and M. College. Joe S. Hay, ex '95, is in attendance at Bellevue Hospital, New York. Chas. S. Emmert, ex-'97, recently gave a German to his Hagerstown friends. estate now amounting to nearly $3,000,000 to colleges named in his will. This will be distributed equally to the fol-lowing institutions, after the legal expenses are deducted: Amherst, Boudoin, Dartmouth, Williams, Yale, Columbia, Hamilton, Lafay-ette, Lincoln, Maryville, Marietta, Adelbert, Wabash, Park, Wesleyan, Universities of Ro-chester, Cornell, Virginia, Hampton, and the Union Theological Seminaries.—Ex. In all the Universities of France there exists no college periodical, no glee clubs, 110 frater-nities, no athletics, no commencements. The requirements of Johns Hopkins Univer-sity have been so high that but 784 of 2,976 students have obtained degrees.—Ex. Princeton has made application to establish a chapter of the Phi Beta Kappa Society there. The request will probably be granted. The student who refuses to subscribe for a College paper and then reads it over the shoulder of his neighbor, is short enough to tie his shoe-strings to his necktie.—Ex. Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast. That is the reason they put a brass band around a dog's neck. Write for the MERCURY ! To increase its readers' knowledge : Subscribe for the MERCURY ! For the sake of the College : Encourage the MERCURY 1 In the work it is to do ! Support the MERCURY ! The whole year through. "Give me a kiss, my darling do," He said when he gazed in her eyes so blue. "I won't," she said, "you lazy elf, , - Screw up your lips and help yourself."—Ex. He hugged the fair Miss Lemon, And squeezed her very tight, She angry grew and drawing back Hit him with all her might. He sues her for striking him; ■ In court she him thus taunts, "Who could expect to squeeze a Lemon Unless a punch he wants?" —Princeton Tiger. EXCHANGES. FURNITURE. Cabinet Making, PICTURE FRAMES. Mr. Fayerweather has willed his residuary Baltimore street, Gettysburg, Pa. ADVERTISEMENTS. BASE ISisitors to J3 /A _J J_J £ettl/si>urSr College, . . SUPPLIES, . . cBpalcliqcj Loag ue Ball, jWiits, Mas^s, otQ. Managers should send for samples and special rates. Every requisite for TENNIS, GOLF, CRICKET, TRACK AND FIEI-D. GYMNASIUM EQUIPMENTS AND OUTFITS, COMPLETE CATALOGUE SPRING AND SUMMER SPORTS FREE. "This Name the Guarantee." A. Q. Spalding: & Bros., NEW YORK, PHILADELPHIA, CHICAGO. iioa CHESTNUT STREET, PHILADELPHIA *llJright's £ngraving jfcouse VflAS become the recognized leader in unique styles of *?& COLLEGE and FRATERNITY EN-GRAVINGS and STATIONERY, College and Class-Day Invitations, engraved and printed from steel plates; Programmes, Menus, Wedding and Reception Invitations, Announcements, etc., etc. Examine prices aud styles before ordering elsewhere. '50 Visiting Cards from New Engraved Plate for $1,00. ERNEST A. WRIGHT, 1108 Chestnut Street, PHILADELPHIA Hon. W. J. Bryan's Book All who ure interested in furthering the snle of flow. W. J. Bryan's vrw bonk sl.oultl correspond Immediately wit), the publishers. The work will contain . . . AN ACCOUNT OF HIS CAMPAIGN TOUR. HIS BIOGRAPHY, TCrnD'BYHISWIFB HIS V0S1 IMrORTADT SPStCHIS 'HI RIS1JI,TS OF THE CAUPAIGli OF \m. t REV IE* OF THE POLITICAL SITUA'lIOiN. • •OACCNTS WAMT^D © • • Mi myan tins an-nounced his intention of devoting: one-half of all roy ItH'S to furthering the cause of bimetallism. Tii^rH are already indications of an enormous sale. Address W. B. COlNKtY COMPANY, Publishers 341-351 Dearborn St.CHICAGO Settysburg, tPenn*a, -WILL FIX!) THE-Cumberland Valley R. R. running in a South-westerly direction from Harrisbnrg, Pa., through Carlisle. Cfiambcrshurg, Hagerstmvn tin 1 Martinsburg to Winchester, Via., a direct and available *£ route from the North, East and vyesl to Gettysburg, Pa., via. Harrisbnrg and Carlisle. Through tickets via. this route on sale at all P. R. R. offices, and baggage checked through to destination. Also, a popular route to the South via. Carlisle. Ask for your tickets via. I. F. BOYD, Superintendent. id Valley Railroad and Carlisle. Pa. II. A. RIDDLE, lien. Passenger Agent. FPU. H. MlNNlCH, onfeetionervj, OYSTERS Manufacturer, Wholesale and Retail hni/r,- in NEXT DOOF^ TO 5 Suits from $121 to Lowest Maes. 5 p° PAIR'S0 E' f Pants from S4.DD to $121, (^Centre ?«>quare.^ COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS 1 SURGEONS, -^-BALTIIVIOFIE, IV|D.-^ ^mmsm ?>i^^Y&zgmm3&Q%t&- KM The College of Physicians and Surgeons of Balti-more, Maryland, is a well-equipped school. Four ses-sions are required for graduation. For full informa-tion send for the annual catalogue, or write to THOMAS OPIE, M. D., Dean, Cor. Calvert and Saratoga Sts. Established 1876.- eSfPBNBOSB MYMSJ JEWELER, Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons, College Souvenir Spoons, No. 10 Baltimore Street, GETTYSBURG, PENN'A. J# A. TAWNEY Is ready to furnish clubs and boarding houses BREAD, ROLLS, &0., at short notice and reasonable rates. Cor.Washington and Middle Sts., Gettysburg. sy 6i£o. 1

I The College Mefcufy. VOL. IV. GETTYSBURG, PA., OCTOBER, 1896. No. 6. THE COLLEGE MEfiCURY, Published each month during the college year by the Students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. STAFF. Editor: ROBBIN B. WOLF, '97. Associate Editors : LEWIS C. MANGES, '97. ED. W. MEISENHELDER, SAMUEL J. MILLER '97. CHARLES T. LARK '98. JOHN W. OTT, '97, CHARLES H. TILP, '98. E. L. KOLLER, '98. Alumni Association Editor: REV. D. FRANK GARLAND, A. M., Baltimore, Md. Business Manager : HARRY R, SMITH, '97. Assistant Business Manager: JOHN E. MEISENHELDER, '97. -TWT,™,. /One volume (ten months), . . . $1.00 1ERMS-\Slngle copies, 15 . Payable in advance. All Students are requested to hand us matter for publication. The Alumni and ex-members of the College will lavor us by sending information concerning their whereabouts or any items they may think would be interesting for publication. All subscriptions and business matters should be addressed to the business manager. Matter Intended for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address, THE COLLEGE MERCURY, Gettysburg, Pa. CONTENTS. EniTORIALS, • - -- .".-.-- 82 A SUGGESTION, - - - - - 84 LIST OF NEW STUDENTS. - - --- 84 COLLEGE LOCALS, -- - - - - - ' - - -85 THE PENNSYLVANIA CHATAUQUA, - - - - - 89 ALUMNI NOTES, .--89 TOWN AND SEMINARY NOTES, 92 FRATERNITY NOTES, .-.--.---93 LITERARY SOCIETIES, --.-.--94 ATHLETICS, - 95 EDITORIAL. WELCOME ! boys of 1900. Words more fit-ting to open the first column of this issue, could not be found. So much enthusiasm in the reception of a class has not been shown since the advent of the class of '93. Seniors, Juniors and even "those Sophs" vie with each other in saluting the Freshmen. We welcome them because of their number, their manly ap-pearance and finally their gentlemanly de-meanor. Their memorable battles with the Sophomores are over. The war was conducted on the same lines as last year, viz: the banner fight and the class rush. The history of the banner fight is brief. The Sophomores hung theirs on a high sycamore on the campus and surrounded the tree. The Freshmen raised their banner on the college cupola and blocked the stairway. Great excitement ensued. Each class fixed their eyes on the enemy's flag and recognized the impossibility of capturing it. The struggle, as usual, ended with Dr. Mc- Knight and Gov. coming on the scene and re-moving both flags. It is about time for this child's pla}r to stop. The class rush was, beyond a doubt, won by the Freshmen. The Sophs were completely out-numbered and they could not keep to-gether as well as the enormous mass of Fresh-men. This, too, is a practice that could be dispensed with. Several boys came near losing their lives. One of them, a good foot-ball man, sustained a compound fracture of the collar bone. Often neither class bears off a de-cisive victory and even when the victory is de-cisive, it amounts to nothing. The classes had much better show their superiority to one another by base-ball and foot-ball games. * * * THE foot-ball season is again here and that 83 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. with far better prospects than we had last year. Several very heavy men fill up the vacancies in the lines created by the exit of the class of '96, and some strong active men the places be-hind the line. Nearly all our good players were graduated in '96, but the captain, man-ager and last but not least, "the trainer," are doing faithful work to put a victorious team into the field. For only the second time in the history of Gettysburg foot-ball we have a trainer. Nothing is more essential to success in foot-ball than to have a graduate from one of the university teams drill our eleven. Who-ever the captain may be, he is looked upon by the players as one of themselves and they fail to render implicit obedience, but they readily listen to the coach because they recognize his superior knowledge of the game. Mr. Best, the coach, hails from Mechanicsburg, Pa. He played left end and end rusher on the Lehigh University team for two years and not only bucked up against some very strong teams, but also had the advantage of training under such coaches as Graves, Heffelfinger and Hartwell. He possesses all the attributes of a good trainer and the effects of his work are fast becoming manifest. Mr. U. A. Jump, the former coach, brought out the best team we have ever had and doubt-less Mr. Best will do equally well. IT is humiliating to chronicle the fact that one of the students has turned thief. During the class rush one of the Freshmen had sixty-nine dollars of hard earned money stolen from his room. The thief was evidently acquainted with the room and its occupant and since he took the money and left a gold watch, we are forced to the painful conclusion that it was one of our own number. The student body has taken the matter in hand and will do every-thing to detect and punish the scoundrel. There have always been boys in college who stole books, stick-pins, etc., but this is the first considerable robbery that has ever occur-red. The business staff of the MERCURY is con-strained to give the subscribers a broad hint about the payment of their dues. We do not mean that you should pay for several 5'ears in advance, but pay your back dues. A few sub-scribers are in arrears for three years. If you continue delinquent after kindly advice, we shall have to use a more effectual method. * * * ALL new students should subscribe for the MERCURY, and not only should they subscribe for it, but they should give it their support all around. Hand in some article of interest to students or alumni, or forsooth a few verses of poetry. The paper is published solely by the students and all members of that body are ex-pected to give us their hearty co-operation. * * * COLLEGE never opened under more favor-able auspices. Sixty-one were enrolled as Freshmen, while two men joined the Sopho-more class and one the Junior. The dormi-tory is literally filled to the brim. The Pre-paratory Department also opened with a larger number than ever before. A list of the new boys will be found on another page. * * * AT a recent meeting of the Athletic Asso-ciation, it resolved upon pwe athletics. This was brought about by the refusal of Dickinson and other colleges to play with us as long as we had outside men on our teams. It is an excellent move on the part of the boys and cannot be too highly appreciated. Ever since the advent of inter-collegiate athletics, we have had non-collegiate men on our teams, and while they strengthened the teams, they put a damper to the college spirit. Students refused to support a team which was not a college team and the athletic interest was rather low. The movement was not intended as a slight to the town boys who have helped us win many games, but was simply to meet the demands of our sister colleges. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 84 A SUGGESTION. The small attendance at the Alumni meet-ings of the past three or four years has forced itself upon the notice of the General Associa-tion and caused the appointment of a commit-tee to devise a more popular entertainment for those who revisit their Alma Mater. It is un-fair to able speakers to ask them to prepare careful addresses and then confront them with thin audiences in Brua Chapel. Perhaps a formal and more distinctly social affair would have better chances of success. I have a pro-posal to offer which may be taken for what it is worth. The plan is substantially that which has been incorporated at Yale University. The thing essential to good fellowship is a dinner, or cold lunch, not expensive, but suf-ficient to constitute a comfortable repast. It ought to be at an hour near enough to the usual hour of dinner to take the place of that meal. One o'clock immediately after the com-mencement exercises, or possibly after the ora-torical contest would be a suitable time. The day on which most graduates from abroad can be present should be chosen. First of all should come the graduates seated by classes and assigned to places of honor ac-cording to seniority of degree. Those who have received honorary degrees should, of course, be included. The members of the Board should by all means be present, whether bearing degrees or not. Many of them are eminent benefactors of the college and their attendance could not but be inspiring. A few distinguished guests from outside would add in-terest and dignity to the occasion. The presiding officer should be either the President of the College or the President of the Board. He should have the privilege of calling for brief speeches from the best after-dinner speakers present. Special efforts should be made to encourage class reunions at the third, fifth, tenth, fifteenth, twentieth, and other quinquennial anniversaries. When once it is known that at these intervals one is cer-tain to meet a considerable number of his sur-viving classmates the motive for coming at such times will be very strong. At these re-unions each class might choose some one to represent them at the general alumni dinner and might notify the presiding officer to call upon them in their proper order. The tone of the speeches should be such as will conduce most to the good humor and gratification of those present. While the graver interests of the college need not be for-gotten they must not be intruded so as to in-terfere with the absolute enjoyment of the oc-casion, which should be, as far as possible, a time for renewing the care-free and generous associations of youth. It fell to my lot during the past summer to compile a brief history of the college. I was impressed as never before with the dignity and honorableness of its past, with the rank and respectability of its graduates, and with the extent and degree of its usefulness to many of the churches, to society and to the nation. More than a thousand men of power and dis-tinction, three-fourths of whom survive, are enrolled as graduates, while several thousand are indebted to it for less complete training. Surely it is worth while to strengthen by all proper means the tie that unites us and to give one another the encouragement that comes from the consciousnesss of union in a great in-stitution. J. A. H. LIST OF NEW STUDENTS. FRESHMEN. B. Baker, Lititz. R. Bechfol, Lockhaven. A. Bennett, Thurrnont. S. Bottiger, ITazelton. A. Brandt, Lebanon. E. Bregenzer, Baltimore, Md. F. Carver, Hanover. B. Cessna, Bedford. B. Claney, Allegheny. D. Clare, Abbottstown. T. Cole, Altoona. Dale, Lemont. N. Diehl, Cashtown. J. Dietrich, Frackville. C Dougherty, Gettysburg. W. Dress, Steelton, A. Dustman, Gettysburg. J. I. Humer, Middaghs. C. Hurst, Mechanicsburg. R. Z, Imler, Bedford. Miss A. M. Keith, Gettysburg.! Miss M. L. Keith, Gettysburg.! J. F. Knittel, Catawissa. F. E. Kalb, Allegheny. J. S. Kohler, Glenville. H. G. Koppenhafer, Millersburg. S. I. Lafferty, Altoona. W. G. Lawyer, Westminster, Md. J, C. McCarney, Arendtsville. J. G. Mcllhenny, Gettysburg. W. N. McNair, Middletown. J. C. Markel, Columbia. W. J. Miller, Philadelphia.! W. R. Miller, Friesburg, N. J. 85 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. R. H. Ebcrly, Mechanicsburg. H, D. K. Ebersole, Hummelstown. F. H. B. Ernest, Elizabethville. J. II. \V. Fahringer, Catawissa. A. Miss C. G. Frey, Gettysburg. E. W. Frey, York. W C. L. Gates, Gettysburg. M A. D. Gilbert, Friesburg. F. K. E. Good, Gettysburg. G. C. H. Gunter, Pierson, Fla. L. J. K. Hamaeher, Steelton. C. J. F. Hcilman, Harrisburg. W 8. A. Hitchner, Friesburg. G. C. Howard, Gettysburg. H. {Special. SOPHOMORES. W. R. Edwards, P. of Rocks, Md. W. J. Klinei'elter, Glenville. . W. Schwartz, Red Land. P. Shoup, Greensburg. L. A. Sieber, Gettysburg. T. Smith, Johnstown. S. Stalnaker, Hanover. , H. Stiefel, Allegheny. . Stock, Hanover. M. Traub, Bloomsburg. D. Weaver, Newry. A. Weigle, Mechanicsburg. Wendt, New York. , C. Williams, Gettysburg. C. Wisotzki, Gettysburg. N. Young, Anselma. JUNIORS. J. A. Singmaster, Allentown. PREPARATORIANS. Annrick, H. G., Koser. Annrick, J. B., Leffler, Buehler, Lightner. Miss Blocher, Loudon, G. W., Bordy, Loudon, C. B., Bower, Mehring. Burns, Miller, Miss Carrie Brown , McClean, Miss Cora Brown, Munro, Crouse, Key, Culler, O'Neal, Currens, Miss Peters, Deatrick, Peters, Miss Diehl, Perriod Evans, Renner, Eveler. Roscnsteel, Earnshaw, Swope, D., Easterday, Swope, C, Eckert, Stonesifer, Fredericks, Snyder,' Fite, Sharp, Gates, Miss Sieber, Grenoble, Taylor, Gladfelter, ■ Tawuey, Hageman, Trostle, Hegeman, J. L., Van Dorn.' Hegcrman, R. L., Miss Warner, Hoffman, Weber, Kahler, 'Miss Ziegler, Ziegler. COLLEGE LOCALS. EDMUND W. MEISENHELDER and E L. KOLLER, Editors. "Pearlie" says that we seniors study politi-cal economical. Mr. K., '99, asked Dr. M. whether he could be excused from taking German because he could converse in Pennsylvania Dutch. It has been learned from an ex-member of '99, that Mr. M., '96, is going "out there to the reverend school." For almost a week '99 had boasted of her physical powers. She had tired all the stu-dents with the boasts of what she would do to the "baby Freshies" in the class rush. On the night of Sept. 8th, different sounds were heard coming from the "Prep." campus. 1900, after some delay, had mustered together their forces and at 9.45 P. M. sent forth their }Tell of defiance. '99 responded in good time, and also with an almost full class. At no time during the evening was '99 in it, but they were pushed around the field from time to time, at the will of 1900 until about 11 o'clock, they decided to play "quits." We are sorry to add that during the course of the evening several men wore pretty badly hurt from being tram-pled upon ; but we are also happy to add that all are now recovered from their injuries. Dr. B., "How many declensions do we have in Latin ?" K., '99, "six." Mr. S., '97, Dr. there are cobwebs on the end of the telescope.'' Dr. N., "They must have come off of your brain." Dr. N., (to Mr. W., '97, who has been play-ing with some of the astronomical instruments) "Mr. W. you would make a good Freshman." Mr. L-, 1900 thinks that the foot-ball team is going to travel in style since he heard that they thought of getting a coach. Mr. C, '98, thinks that there is a certain Moral Freshness in "As You Like It." Prof. H., "Mr. K., do you know what a buss is?" Mr. K., '98, "No sir." "Kitzy" has forgotten it, that is all. He knew what it was at one time. Mr. H. '98, (in Latin) "I thought it meant to perpetrate the memory of the dead.'' Dr. B., "Doubtless you mean perpetuate." Mr. F., '98, thinks that the Sphinx of Egypt is a wasp. Mr. K., 1900, does not like the sulphur water he gets here. The Biological Course is at last a reality and we are glad to see such a large number of students take an interest in it. It is elective for those only who have the study of medicine in view, and the benefit derived by those from such a department is infinite. From the odors and sounds proceeding from THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 86 the room set apart for this purpose, it bids fair to excel our chemical laboratory. The MERCURY extends the heartiest wishes for the success of the department. Contrary to the usual custom of placing a class flag on the dormitory, '99 placed theirs in the top of a tall tree on the campus; giving for their reason for so doing that they did not care to have the college property injured in any way. "A poor excuse is better than none" and this departure from the time hon-ored custom was looked upon as a cowardly piece of work by the upper classmen, especially since one of the ' 99 class was stationed on the tree. This rendered the capture of the flag absolutel)' impossible. 1900 now ran up their flag on the top of the dormitory and uttered their cry of defiance, Neither class moved to tear down the ban-ner of the other and the whole affair was end-ed in a manner satisfactory to both by the ap-pearance of Dr. McKnight. As is the custom on these occasions, the Freshmen should have answered the challenge of the Sophomores instead of running up a flag of their own. Altogether it was a disgraceful proceeding from beginning to end. This college has had brought into its notice one of the most despicable deeds of which a collegeman is capable; the theft of money from a fellow student. This is the most cowardly act that has occurred for some time and the miscreant, if he is able to be found,-will and should be treated with the utmost severity. Such things must cease, since the property of no student is safe so long as there is a thief in their midst. We are glad to make note of Pearl's mous-tache. We were afraid that nobody else would. Pearl says "it is home-raised." The foot-ball team has again been organized and quite a number of new men are enrolled as applicants. A coach has been hired and the boys are working hard. Let those who do not play give the players their encouragement, for it is only by this means that the team will be a success. Our boys cannot win every game and we hope that the student body will realize this. Do not discourage the players with any unfavorable remark. Foot-ball is not play, but the hardest kind of work. Let class teams be organized, for class spirit makes college spirit and that is what we need most of all. This year's Freshman class is the largest in the history of the college, and we hope that among its numbers may be men who will do their utmost for the promotion of all college interests. Men are needed in the Y. M. C. A. in the societies, class-rooms and foot-ball field. Let each and every member of 1900 work his best in these departments. The class of '98 has always been and always will be a prominent factor in the history of this college. Her classical men have already started upon their scientific career, and won-derful discoveries are being made. The first one was made by Herbert, who discovered that Lab. matches can be ignited only on the box. The second was made by "Zim," who discovered that some of his Lab. supplies had mysteriously disappeared. The question in which most upper classmen are concerned is, "Who shall we bum for this 01 that since George L., '98, has left us? " The '98 Spectrum is now under way and contributions are solicited from the different classes. Every man in college, aside from general appeals for support to the students as a whole, should be personally and privately interested in the Spectrum. Let the Spectrum receive the hearty support of the classes, and we are sure that '98 herself will not forget the aid she has received and will, in turn, assist in every way possible succeeding Specbums. "Sister," '97, is preparing to astonish the the world with his new water cycle. The first attempt was not very successful, the only re-sult obtained being a suit of wet clothes. We would suggest that "Sister" wear a bathing suit when riding along a mill race. This would save him the trouble of borrowing another suit from an obliging farmer. One of the redeeming features of the new men is their extreme politeness. A Freshman unintentionally rubbed against a Soph, the night of the rush, and immediately begged his pardon. H., 1901, is also very polite. In the game at State College, he remarked to his opponent: I beg your pardon sir, but don't you know you daren't hold me? Y., 1900, on the return trip from State Col-lege thought he would ride on a pullman car. When the porter came round for the money, Y. told him he was traveling with the foot-ball team. THE MUSICAL ORGANIZATIONS.—We are 1 glad to see that the musical clubs have com- 87 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. menced work so early ; this is always an ad-vantage and insures good concerts all through the season. The clubs have practically the same members as last year—two having drop-ped out of the Octette. CLUB. Second Tenor, White, '97. GLEE First Tenor, Nicholas, '98. Ott, '97- First Basso. Second Basso. Roller, '98. Manges, '97. Lark, '98. VIOLIN QUARTET. Erdman,'98; Lark,98; Smith,'99; Manges,'97. The voices of a number of applicants for the Glee Club were tested recently and Armstrong, '97, for second tenor, and Lauffer and Mussel-man, '99, for second basso, were selected on trial. Mr. Manges, who so ably managed the clubs last year, was re-elected, and under his management there is no reason why the clubs should not have a brilliant and successful sea-son. POLITICS.—Just at this time, when there is so much discussion about Bryan and McKinley, Free Silver and Gold, the students of Gettys-burg College are manifesting their political views. Beginning with the first morning, and perhaps earlier, the Silverites with their Bry-an hats, were observed arguing earnestly with the Gold bugs. But, since the most conclu-sive argument is that of voting a "straw vote" was held, which resulted as follows :. McKinley, Bryan, Palmer, - Levering, - This shows pretty nearly the sentiment of the fellows, although this isn't exactly it, for quite a number agreed to vote for "Billy" Bryan "just for fun." THE Y. M. C. A. RECEPTION.—One of the pleasant things for the new men, and one that helps to relieve, or abate for the time be-ing, their homesickness, is the annual recep-tion to new Students, given under the auspices of the Young Men's Christian Association. This year it was held Friday evening, Septem-ber 4th, in Philo hall, and was well attended. Excellent addresses were made by Dr. Mc- Knight, Prof. Klinger and Dr. Huber. The second part—held in the historic ' 'sweat-box'' —seemed to attract most of the fellows. Ice cream and cake were served to all. It is an 108 34 18 10 excellent custom and one that should be con-tinued. JOIN A LITERARY SOCIETY !—We cannot urge too strongly upon the new men the ad-vantage of joining one of the two literary so-cieties— either the Philomathean or the Phren-akosmian. The training given by these so-cieties is helpful throughout the course and in after life, and one who is not a member of either of the societies will only realize what he is missing when thrown into contact with those who are members. Join a society ! THE TWO FIRES.—There were two fires lately, occurring in the same week, and of in-terest here because the students of college con-tributed a large share in saving property. The first was a barn north of college, struck by lightning and considerable live stock burned. The other, occurring on a cold and windy Sat-in day night, was the barn and stable of Mr. Sheads, proprietor of the unfermented wine establishment on Seminary Ridge. The fire burned fiercely for quite a while, and it was only through the efforts of the students, who were there in full force, that the house, ad-joining the burning barn and stable, was saved. Mr. C, 1900, (in History)—"At this time the Dutckess of York .'' Dr. M. (interrupting)—"I guess you mean the Dutchy of York." Now, what is the differ-ence between a duchess and a dutchy t Mr. C.—"A dutchess is a woman, and a dutchy is a man ! '' Dr. M.—"You are evidently being misled by a popular nickname. It is not the dutchy the boys sometimes call me ! " The Juniors were in Lab. learning the sym-bols of the elements, and Dr. B. said: Mr. T. what does Ba stand for?" The class, evi-dently thinking of B. A. T., roared. There are two songs—and two only—that seem to be the favorites around college: "Just Tell Them That You Saw Me," and "She May Have Seen Better Days." Morning, noon and night you can hear the soul inspiring strains of one of the two songs either sung, whistled or played on Webby's flute. Can't we have something new. "B. A. J. T.," '98, says that only the dum-mies in the Junior class take Anglo Saxon and that the ones who take the Biological course are even worse dummies because "they got their legs pulled for five dollars." He takes Calculus. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 88 L., 1900 (in History) Henry VIII tried to •'get a pull with the Cardinal, so that" Dr. M., "Mr. E- what did you say?" E., "Why Henry VIII tried to get on the right side of the Cardinal.'' F., 98, recently electrified the class by the startling statement that "in this year there were about twelve months !" Herbie always was noted for original sayings. We have been reliably informed that R., '99, received a large size turn down from a fellow traveller on the train while coming to Gettys-burg. When a free-silver Sophomore gets to arguing with a sound money politician and lawyer of Philadelphia, he is very much like the man who fell out of the balloon. Some freshmen are green, others are ver-dant; but about D., 1900, there is a delightful woodland freshness that is amusing. He was persuaded to hand in to the Athletic Associa-tion a written application to catch for the Col-lege base ball team. We have also heard that he wants to try for the Glee Club. F., '98, says "Co-operation is the thief of time." Next thing you know he'll be writing a revised version of Proverbs. "Kitzy" wanted to hear Nick give "Push along my honey, push along," on the micro-scope. Although Nick can imitate almost any-thing, he admitted that that was one too many for him. New yells lately heard : Bargains ! Bargains ! Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! Cohen Brothers! Gettysburgia ! Klink, Klank, Klunk, Klink, Klank, Klunk, Psychology, Psychology, Watch us flunk. Ninety-eight. Biological! Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! Ninety-eight, Gettysburgia. K., '99, had numerous sad experiences with some of the ladies who were here with ' 'The Lancers." One told him that she was tired of talking to kids. Another told him she could not dance with him, and pointed to her sleeve to show that she was in mourning. K., then said, "is your sleeve ripped? I can soon fix that." Again when he was happily talking to one of them, her mother came up and drove him off. We regret that he had such hard luck in his maiden effort in courtship. Y. M. C. A. NOTES. It must be gratifying to every man who loves the work of Christ, and especially de-sires its success among our students to see"the interest taken in it by the new men. The very first meeting saw many of them give themselves to the Association, entering with spirit into its aims, and manifesting an unus-ual sense of its importance in the college life. We look forward to a year of earnest, devoted, successful work. To those who have not yet joined us we say come with us, we need you, we need your thoughts, your prayers, your ability to labor for Christ. At the latest business meeting Prof. O. G. Klingc was elected treasurer of the building fund in place of Dr. H. L. Baugher resigned. The Association feels grateful to Dr. Baugher for his careful husbanding of the Association's funds, and we are sorry to have lost him. We hope he will still visit us and help us in our meetings. The Association has this year taken up a new line of work in this department, suggested in part by the Northfield Conference, where the importance of the Bible Study Department of the college association was dwelt upon at considerable length. The Freshman and Soph-omore classes will have what is termed ' 'perm-anent courses," with the student leaders as has been customary; the former studying the Eife of Christ and the latter the Eife of Paul. The Juniors and Seniors will have Professors for leaders and will, together with their lead-ers, choose their own line of work; Prof. Himes taking the Seniors, and Prof. Breiden-baugh the Juniors. These classes, it should be observed, are entirely separate from the college curriculum and are adopted solely for co-operative, devotional study. A short time ago "Simon," '98, jumped out of his bed about midnight and rrapped at his own door in order that he might get in and retire. During the heavy storm on Sept. 29, '96, Dr. Nixon is said to have been on the roof, whether to find out the velocity of the wind, or to keep the roof from blowing away is not known. The '98 Bible class called on Dr. Baugher on the eve of Oct. 1, '96. 89 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. Mr. K., '99, recently explained the familiar saying of "bench, bar and pulpit," in the fol-lowing manner : "The bench is the bench of justice; the bar is the bar-room, and the pulpit is where the preacher stands." Dr. B., "What is arsenic acid." A. B. Buun, '98, "Vinegar." Dr. M., Translate, il a soi xante millions de francs. D., 1900, "He has 60 miles of France. In a student's college course there come few such pleasant times as the class of '97 enjoyed with Mr. Wolf at his home on the evening of September 16. Great were the anticipations of the boys, but they were far surpassed in every particular. As they approached his home they found the grounds beautifully lighted with Chinese lanterns, while the novel '97 pumpkins delighted everyone. Mr. Wolf was assisted in receiving by his father and mother, his sister and Miss Nicholson, of Phil-adelphia. A large number of Gettysburg's most charming young ladies, together with some who were visiting from Washington and Philadelphia, graced the occasion. Delight-fully interesting games were provided and the happy hours sped oidy too rapidly. The cat-erer's art was well tested that night, for from oyster pate through the various courses to cof-fee, everything was excellent and most daint-ily served. Later in the evening the college songs at the piano and the sweet strains of the beautiful guitars and Spanish mandolins on the veranda, lent their charms to the tete-a-tetes and moonlight strolls. For it was moon-light, and such moonlight as the girls call "divine." It was a perfect evening in every respect and everyone left grateful to Mr. Wolf not only for his most pleasant entertainment, but for one of the brightest memories of our college days. "THE PENNSYLVANIA CHATAUQUA." The usual inter-collegiate oratorical contest was held on the 29th of last July at Mt. Gretua, under the management of the Penn-sylvania Chatauqua. Gettysburg was represented for the first time and acquitted herself in a way that dem-onstrated the thoroughness of training she gives her students. Several colleges were represented, Lehigh, Franklin and Marshall, Haverford, Gettys-burg, Dickinson, Ursiuus and Muhlenberg. Ursinus received the prize, a silver cup, and Franklin and Marshall came in second. Gettysburg, .the judges decided, was supe-rior in composition. Let us take an interest in this contest and determine that next year the palm will be ours. ALUWINI. L. C MANGES and CHARLES H. TILP. Editors. '42. Rev. Geo. Parson, D. D., of Sunbury, Pa., is recovering from a severe illness. '42. Rev. A. J. Weddell, D. D., pastor em-eritus of Trinity Lutheran church at Norris-town, Pa,, died suddenly at his home in that city on September 14th. '46. Rev. A. M. Geiger, D D., spent a por-tion of the summer on the great lakes. He is now the guest of his brother, Dr. H. R. Gei-ger, Springfield, O. '57. The volume of the Lutheran Commen-tary, by Rev. H. L. Baugher, D. D., is now in the press. '57. Rev. J. A. Earnest, D. D., of Mifflin-burg, Pa., was married on Sept. 8th, to Mrs. Maria Louisa Cronmiller, of the same place, by Rev. M. L. Shindel. We extend hearty congratulations. '58. Rev. S. B. Barnitz, D. D., the Western Secretary of the Board of Home Missions, re-cently spent a Sunday at Beloit, Kansas, win-ning golden opinions from his hearers. '62. Rev. J. B. Keller of Smithsburg, Md., has resigned. '62. By the will of Miss Sarah Acker, lately deceased, St. Paul's Lutheran church, Lion-ville, Pa., of which Rev. F. Klinefelter is pas tor, becomes the recipient of the interest of $1,000; one-half for the benefit of the congre-gation, and the remainder to be used for the cemetery. '63. Dr. Davis Garber, Professor of Mathe-matics in Mnhlenburg College, died recently at his home in Allentown. '68. Rev. Lee M. Heilman'schurch at Har-risburg, was recently the recipient of a fine THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 90 two manual pipe organ valued at $1,800. The donors, Rev. E. Dason, a retired Lutheran minister, and his wife, are members of Rev. Heilman's church. '70. Rev. E. Manges, of Felton, Pa., as-sisted Rev. H. H. Flick at his Harvest-home communion, at Fisherville, Pa. '71. Rev. S. A. Weikert was presented with a handsome nickle-plated Victor bicycle by the clergyman's friends. '71. Rev. Chas. E. Hay's translation of "Luther's Theology," by Koestlin, is now in press. '72. Rev. Jno. Brubaker was elected a direc-tor of the Seminary, by the Allegheny Synod, at its recent meeting. '72. Rev. B. B. Collins, of Meyersdale, Pa., was a delegate to the large K. of P. convention at Gettysburg, last mouth. '73. Rev. Wm. S. Freas, D. D., of St. Paul's Lutheran church, of York, was pleas-' antly surprised by his devoted people on his return from his vacation. The pastor's study had been attractively repapered and renovated. '73. Christ Second Lutheran church, of Al-toona, of which J. F. Hartman is pastor, cele-brated its twenty-fifth anniversary from the 4th to the 9th of September. '74 The new Lutheran church at New Mill-port, Pa., Rev. M. O. T. Sahm, pastor, is to be dedicated on October 18th. It is a hand-some edifice and cost nearly $7,000. '75. St. John's Lutheran church of Lewis-town, is to celebrate its centennial anniversary from October 18th to 25th. The pastor, Rev. M. S. Cressman, has arranged ah interesting program. Dr. S. A. Ort is to speak on Sun-day morning, and after a week of interesting services, the closing sermon is to be preached by Rev. J. M. Reimensnyder, D. D., of Milton. '75. Rev. M. L. Young, Ph. D., has enter-ed upon the 13th year of his pastorate at Meyersdale, Pa. '76. Rev. Wm. A. Shipman, of the First Lutheran church of Johnstown, Pa., spent part of his summer vacation in Gettysburg. '77. Hon. H. M. Clabaugh, Attorney Gen-eral of Maryland, recently paid the college a visit. He was accompanied by Governor Lowndes, of Md. He takes a great interest in his Alma Mater. '77. Rev. W. M. Baum, Jr., of Canajoharie, New York, spent his vacation in Philadelphia, Pa. '77. Rev. Charles S. Trump, of St. Johu's Lutheran church, Martinsburg, W. Va., has returned from his trip to California. '78. Rev. Adam Stump, of York, Pa., since his return from the West, is delivering a series of interesting lectures on the condition of the West at the present time. '80. Rev. Prof. L. B. Wolf, of Guntur, In-dia, has a book in press entitled, "After Fifty Years," or a history of Foreign Missions in the General Synod. '80. The work of Rev. C. W. Heisler, of Denver, Col., at the late meeting of the Rock River Chatauqua, is very highly spoken of by the press of Sterling, 111. '81. Rev. J. W. Byers, Ph. D., D. D., of Nevada, Ohio, has been appointed one of the Board of School Examiners of Wyandot county, Ohio. '82. The session of Mount Amoena Semi-nary, Mt. Pleasant, N. C., opened on Septem-ber 10th with a large and flattering attendance of young ladies, and others have entered this week. Rev. Prof. C. L. T. Fisher is still at the head of the institution. '82. Rev. A. R. Steck, pastor of St. James Lutheran church of Gettysburg, spent his vacation at Stewartsville, N. J. '83. At a recent meeting of the Allegheny Synod Rev. W. W. Austadt was elected as a delegate to the General Synod and also direc-tor of the Seminary. '83. Rev. Prof. H. G. Buehler and wife, of Lakeville, Conn., have returned from their European trip. '83. Rev. P. Livingston has entered upon the seventh vear of his pastorate in St. Mark's York, Pa. '84, Rev. F. L. Bergstresser was elected a director of the Seminary to serve an unex-pired term of one year. '85. Rev. H. M. Heilmau, of Bethany Luth-eran church, Altoona, Pa., spent a portion of his vacation at Cape May, New Jersey. '86. The corner-stone of Whitemarsh Evan-gelical Lutheran church, near Fort Washing-ton, was laid on Sept. 27, in the presence of a large number of people. The exercises were 91 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. in charge of the pastor, Rev. J. Eugene Diet-terich. He was assisted by Rev. U. S. G. Rupp, '90. '86. M. G. Motter was recently elected as-sistant Prof, of Anatomy in the Biological de-partment of Georgetown University. '87. A very good photograph of Rev. H. C. Alleman, pastor of Trinity Lutheran church, Chambersburg, Pa., appeared in the Valley Spirit, of that city, recently. '88. F. E. Metzger, professor of Ancient Languages in Lutherville College, Md., and Miss Martha Thomas, Eckhart Mines, Md., were married at Frostburg, Md., on Septem-ber 10th. '88. Rev. D. Frank Garland, pastor of the Church of the Reformation, Baltimore, Md., has tendered his resignation in order to accept a call to Taneytown, Md. He will begin at the latter place in October. '88. Rev. Luther S. Black, of the College church, Gettysburg, Pa., goes to Johnstown, N. Y., October 1st. '88. Rev. S. D. Daugherty, of Sharpsburg, has accepted a call to Grace Lutheran church, Altoona, Pa. '89. Morris W. Croll has gone to Cleve-land, Ohio, to resume his duties as teacher of English in the University School where he taught last year. '89. Prof. Ira Tipton has accepted a pro-fessorship in the Hill School, of Pottstown, a private school that prepares students for Yale College. We are informed that his duties will be to teach Latin and English. '89. Burgess R. E. Wible delivered the ad-dress of welcome to the Annual State Conven-tion of the Jr. O. U. A. M., which was held in the M. E. church of Gettysburg. '91. Mr. Schmucker Duncan has returned to Yale College to take up some special studies. '91. R N. Hartman, Ph. D., has charge of the Quant. Chem. Lab. of Tufts College, and will do investigation work under Prof. Arthur Michael. He expects to enter a German uni-versity next year. '91. Rev. C. L. Ritter was one of the speak-ers at the large gathering near Middletown, Md., on August 29th. '92. Rev. George Beiswanger, of Calvary Lutheran church, Baltimore, Md., has issued a neat card of topics of his sermons for the next 6 weeks. He will by special request preach a series of sermons on "What is Mar-riage?" "Is it a failure?" "Whom to Marry," "When to Marry," "How to Marry." '92. The newly erected church at Saddlers, near Shrewbury, York county, Pa., Rev. H. E. Berkey, pastor, is to be dedicated on the first Sunday in November. The church is a union one. Rev. H. H. Weber, of York, Pa., is to preach one of the sermons in German and raise the amount of money necessary to dedi-cate free of debt. '93. Virgil R. Saylor has been elected prin-cipal of the Salisbury schools at Elklick, Pa. '93. Rev. John C. Bowers, of Jefferson, Md., has accepted the call to St. Mark'sLuth-eran church, Washington, D. C. '93. Rev. A. A. Kelly, pastor of the Luth-eran church near Mechauicsburg, and Miss Mary C. Bushman, of this place, were married at the home of the bride's parents on Balti-more St., on Wednesday, Sept. 9. The Rev. A. R. Steck, pastor of St. James Lutheran church, of this place, assisted by Rev. W. C. Wire, pastor of Lutheran church, of Littles-town,, performed the ceremony. '93. Rev. G. W. Enders, Jr., was installed as pastor of the Lutheran congregation at Argusville, N. Y., on Sunday, Aug. 18. Dr. G. W. Enders, of York, Pa., and Rev. A. S. Hardy, of Seward, N. Y., officiated. '93. W. H. Deardorff, M. D., who gradu-ated from Jefferson Medical College in June, has been elected resident physician at the the Methodist Hospital of Philadelphia. '93. Rev. E. E. Parson was ordained to the ministry by the Allegheny Synod at its recent meeting in Altoona, Pa. '94. H. A. Allison has accepted a professor-ship in Susquehanna.University. '94. Charles Piper has opened a gent's fur-nishing store in Tyrone, Pa. '94. C. F. Kloss will take a post graduate course in Philosophy at Yale. '94. Frank E. Fickinger, Principal of the Chambersburg, Pa., schools, was here for a few days looking up his old friends. '93. Fred. H. Bloomhardt spent a few days with the boys in college before returning to the University to resume his studies. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 92 '94. Elmer E. Stahl has been elected prin-cipal of the Glenville Academy. '94. Clyde B. Stover is Dr. Breidenbaugh's efficient assistant in Chemistry. '94. We are grieved to hear of the sad death of Samuel B. Sorrick. '95. John H. Diehl and Robert L. Meiseu-helder have entered the Junior class of the Seminary. '95. Rev. L. H. Waring was ordained to the ministry by the Allegheny Synod at its re-cent meeting. '96. D. E. Rice is an assistant professor in the Harrisburg High School. '96. G. O. Ritter has gone to Selinsgrove to enter the Theological Department of the Susquehanna University. '96. A. C. Carry has entered Mt. Airy Sem-inary, Philadelphia. '96. The following have entered the Junior class of the Seminary : Fred. J. Baum, W. G. Brubaker, I. O. S. Moser, Charles O. Shaar, H. D. Shimer, W. C. Spayde, G. Z. Stup, J. O. Yoder. '96. L. P- Eisenhart is tutor in mathematics in the Preparatory Department. '96. Mr. Norman Heindel has returned to •New York city to resume his studies in the law department of Columbia University. He remarked before leaving that he would be home to cast his first vote for McKinley at the coming election. TOWN AND SEWIINARY NOTES. S. J. MILLER, Editor. The work on the new High School building is being pushed rapidly. It will be known as the Meade High School and proves to be both attractive and convenient. The St. James Lutheran church has been beautified with a coat of paint, the brick work red, the wood work olive. The Rev. L. S. Black left for his new field of work at Johnstown, N. Y., on the 10th of September. Rev. H. A. Alleman, of Chambersburg, filled the pulpit of Christ Lutheran church, both morning and evening, on Sept. 13th. The game of base-ball which was played on the college athletic grounds, Saturday, Sept. 12th, by the Gettysburg and Hanover teams, resulted in a score of 13 to 5 in favor of the former. The Gettysburg team has the reputa-tion of winning every game played this season. Rev. A. R. Steck, of St. James Lutheran church, preached his second anniversary ser-mon on Sept. 13th. About 40 uniformed firemen, accompanied by the G. A. Band, attended the centennial celebration of the Columbia Fire Company on Sept. 23, 24 and 25. The veteran Bucktails of the 150th Penn-sylvania Regiment held their Biennial reunion at this place on the 24th and 25th inst. They held a business session for the purpose of elect-ing officers, at which time it was decided that they hold their next Biennial meeting here, and also that an effort be made to have a bri-gade instead of a regimental reunion. It was in this regiment that the memorable John Burns fought and saw hard service, all the regimental officers being wounded in the fight. The 37th Annual State Session of the Jr. O. U. A. M., which met here recently, was at-tended by over six hundred delegates. The principal contest of the session was for the office of State Vice-Counselor. The successful candidate was Dr. M. P. Dickeson, of Rock-dale. The following official program was ren-dered : Tuesday afternoon—Parade. evening—Illustrated lecture on Cemetery Hill. Wednesdajr evening—Memorial Services. Thursday evening—Band Concert. From now on the electric cars will run only on special occasions. The seventy-second annual convention of the West Pennsylvania Synod convenes Wed-nesday evening, Oct. 14, in the St. James Lutheran church, this place. The veterans of the Sixth Pennsylvania Cavalry, (Rush Lancers) and their friends, arrived here on the 26th, making their ninth annual pilgrimmage to this historical place. As usual, they held a camp-fire in the evening which proved very interesting. Their tour included Gettysburg, Baltimore and Washington. Capt. Long acted as their guide while here. Teachers' County Institute, which will be held in Gettysburg from Nov. 23rd to 27th, 93 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. promises to be a grand success. Prof. Thoman has made arrangements for the following en-tertainments: Monday evening, Dr Y. M. Philip, of Penn'a. Tuesday "' Col. Geo. W. Bain, of Kentucky. Wednesday " Hon. H. W. J. Ham, of Georgia. Thursday " Hon. M. W. Howard, of Alahama. Friday " The Torbet Concert Company. SEMINARY. Seminary opened Sept. 13th, with about its usual attendance. The class which entered thisjyear numbers nineteen. The dormitory was damaged slightly by the recent storm. The trees along the path from the town to the Seminary were twisted around considerably, some having their limbs broken, others being uprooted. Rev. E. J. Wolf, D. D., preached the ser-mon at the corner-stone laying for the new Lutheran church at Spry, York county, on Sept. 6th. Rev. John C. Bowers, of Jefferson, Md., has accepted the call of St. Mark's Lutheran church, in Washington, D. C. Rev. Bowers graduated from the Gettysburg Theological Seminary in the class of '96. On the 27th of September, Rev. J. E. Hein-dle preached at York Haven. Rev. Dr. Richards assisted Rev. A. R. Steck in the administering of the Holy Communion in the St. James Lutheran church, Sept. 27th. FRATERNITY NOTES. PHI KAPPA PSI. Our institution was recently honored by a visit from two loyal Phi Psis, the Governor and the Attorney-General of Maryland, Lowudes, '64, Pa. B, and Clabaugh, '77, Pa. E. C. S. Duncau, '82, was elected President of the Alumni Association last commencement. H. P. Sadtler, '88, of Baltimore, paid us a flying visit a few days since. We were delight-ed to have him with us. We had the pleasure of having with us for a few days at the beginning of the term, W. F. Lutz, '94; A. C. Carty, '96; W. R. Reitzell,'96. W. F. Lutz, '94, is engaged in journalistic work in Bedford. H. M. Witman, '63, is now in attendance at Yale Divinity school. A. C. Carty is now enrolled in the Lutheran Seminary at Mt. Airy. W. R. Reitzell, '96, is studying law in Hagerstown. White, '97 and Lark, '98, are members of the newly organized Musical Clubs. George D. Weaver was initiated June 13. PHI GAMMA DELTA. Bros. J. A. Singmaster, '73, and E. G. Mil-ler, '85, were present at the opening of college. Bro. D. F. Garland has moved to Taney-town, where he has taken charge of the Trin-ity Lutheran church. Bro. H. C. Alleman, '86, preached in the College church on the 13th ult. Bro. F. H. Knuble, '93, returned from Ger-many on the 5th, ult., and recently spent a few days with us. Bros. DeYoe, '85; Blint, '89, and Fickinger, '94, paid us flying visits last month. Bros. Baum, '96, and Shaar, '96, have re-turned to the Seminary, and Bro. Rice, '96, is teaching at Harrisburg High School. Bro. Lichtner, of Ohio Wesleyan, was in town during the Jr. O. U. A. M. Convention. Bro. Fite, '98, and Stiefel, 1900, played on the foot ball team at State College and U. P. Bro. W111, J. Miller, Jr., was initiated the 13th, ult. . • SIGMA CHI. Dale, Lemont, Pa.; Loudon, Altoona, Pa.; Rosensteel, Johnstown, Pa., were initiated Sept. 5th. Fredericks and Monroe, of Lock Haven, Pa., were initiated on the 12th ult. We have had pleasant visits from the follow-ing Brothers: Shipman, '74; McKee, '88; Fox, '89; Fisher, Alpha Kappa, '94; Hays, Omicioh, '94; Deatrich, '94; Loudon, '96; Heindel, '96; Bixler, W. H., '98; Bixler, A. M., '99- Loudon intends entering the Medical De-partment U. of P. Heindel will continue his course in law at Columbia University. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 94 Dale, Lawyer and London represent us on the foot-ball team. Hersh, '91, has elegant prospects of being the next District Attorney of Adams county. PHI DELTA THETA. C. S. Smith was initiated Sept. 5th. C. W. Leitzell, '94, spent the summer in Gettysburg. B. R. Lantz, '94, supplied the charge at Kittinger, Pa., during the summer. L. S. Black, '88, has resigned as pastor of Christ Lutheran church and accepted a call to Johnstown, N. Y. We wish him success in his new field. C. W Ziegler, '96, spent his vacation in Gettysburg. J. W. Ott and J. E. Meisenhelder accom-panied the foot ball team to State College on the 26th of September. ALPHA TAU OMEGO. W. H. Menges, '96, was with us during the opening days of this term. A. R. Warner, '96, paid the Chapter a short visit recently. W. O. Nicklas, '94, has been admitted to the practice of law at Chambersburg, Pa. E. S. Stalnaker, 1900, was initiated into the Fraternity Monday night Sept. 14th. J. P. Michler, '97, will enter the law depart-ment of the Washington & Lee University. LITERARY SOCIETIES. JOHN W. OTT, Editor. PHILO. The first of the series of popular "Author's Evenings," was given on Sept. 18. The sub-ject was Shakespeare. Our thanks are due Miss Wisotzki and the Misses Keith, for their assistance at the piano, which added greatly to the evening's program. Miss Leeds, of Washington, D. C, and Master Mark Eckert have also played for us. We were glad to have with us our old friend Bloomhardt, '94. Every new man, and some of the old ones, too, should have heard his speech on the benefits derived from literary society work. New members thus far initiated are Spayd, '99, Ney, McNair, Heilmau and Deitrick, 1900. Others have been elected. The officers now serving are: Armstrong, President. Smith, R. L-, Vice President. Fite, Treasurer. Tilp, Librarian. Miss Sieber, Critic. Kitzrneyer, Cor. Secretary. DeYoe, Rec. Secretary. The next special program will be rendered Sept. 23rd. PHRENA. Phrena Society began her year's work on September 4th with the prospect of an unus-ually prosperous year before her. A large number of the Freshman class are already members, having been initiated while in Prep. In addition to these Weigle and Hurst ot the Freshman class, and Bowers of the Prepara-tory, have been elected to membership. Sloop, '99, and Weigle, 1900, were initiated on September 25. The reading-room was put in working order at once. The new men are welcome to its privileges at all hours. Edward W. Meisenhelder, '98, is Editor-in- Chief of the class annual which is to be pub-lished by his class. Phrena holds the editorship of the MERCURY for this year. On October 9, the following special program will be rendered in her hall. The program will begin at eight o'clock. All are cordially invited. The program of the evening's enter-tainment is as follows : SUBJECT :-HARRIET BEKCHER STOWE. Music—Piano Duet, Misses Kieth Declamation—Longfellow's—"The Slave's Dream," - Lauffer Essay—Biographical Sketch, - - - - , - - Wolf Music—Plantation Melodies. Declamation—Longfellow's—"Quadroon Girl," - Fleck Declamation—Whittier's—"A Virginia Slave-mother's Fare-well to Her Daughter," - - E. W. Meisenhelder Music—Violin Solo, Manges Essay—The Story of Uncle Tom's Cabin, . Woods Declamation—Selection from Uncle Tom's Cabin. - Carney Oration—The Effect of Uncle Tom's Cabin, - - Duck Music—Piano Duet, - - Misses Keith Essay—Mrs. Stowe's Other Works, - - - Stockslager Oration—Harriet Beecher Stowe, - Bikle, Sr. Music—Plantation Melody. The following men hold the chief offices at present: Pres., Duck, '97; Vice Pres., E. W. Meisenhelder, '98; Sec'y, Hickman; Treas., J. E. Meisenhelder, '97; Critics, Bikle, Sr., '97; Bikle, Jr., '99; Woods, '98; Stockslager, '97. Want of space forbids the names of the minor officers. 95 THE COEEEGE MERCURY. ATHLETICS. CHAUI.ES T. I,ARK, Editor. What a bright outlook for the athletics of our institution ! The large crowd of new students contains many athletes of no mean ability. Matters look decidedly encouraging. The present interest in foot-ball is unparalleled in the history of our institution. Our coach, Mr. Best, ex-Eehigb, is exerting himself to the utmost to bring our team up to a high standard-of excellence and his efforts are being rewarded. Of the men who com-posed our last season's team, but five returned to college this fall. It is on this account that the work of developing a good team is a very difficult task, as the men with whom Mr. Best has to deal, are almost all inexperienced play-ers; however, the improvement of the team since it is under his hands, is very marked. Among the contestants for the team who are training hard, are the following : '97—Man-ges, Ott, Schriver, Sheely, Wolf, Smith; '98— Nicholas, Tholan, Krafft, Briner, Kephardt, Fite, Kuendig; '99-Roehner, Herman,Spa3'de, Brumbaugh, Smith, J. M., Smith, C. H., Doty, Cumbler, Trimble; 1900—Young, Good, Steifel, Wisotzki, Koppenhaver, Dale Brandt, Eberly, Williams; 1901—Hagerman, Burns, Kohler, Eoudon. The opening game of the season was played at State College. This institution has one of the heaviest and strongest teams in the State. Our men played against opponents averaging 15 pounds heavier than they were. Had it not been for the fact that we are not in the habit of canceling games, this one would have been declared off on account of the poor phys-ical condition of our men. For the above rea-sons and as this was our first game, the result caused no surprise. Gettysburg on several oc-casions had the ball dangerously near their op-ponents' goal line, making repeated gains but fumbling at critical moments. The playing of this game was of great value to our numer-ous unexperienced men. The result was : Gettysburg, o; State, 40. Captain Burns has been looking up material for our next season's Base Ball team and is much encouraged with the prospect. Among the valuable additions for the nine are: Dale, 1900; Hagerman, 1901; Hurst, 1900; Glad-felter, 1900; Carver, 1900; Stallnecker, 1900; Ney; 1900; Heilman, 1900, and our coming catcher, Deitrick, 1900. At a recent meeting of the Athletic Associa-tion, it was decided that hereafter all our Ath-letic teams be composed of strictly college men. At the same time the Association, recognizing the excellent services rendered by Armstrong, '97, as Manager of our last season's base ball team, re-elected him for the coming season. Lark, '98, was elected Assistant Manager. We would urge on all students who have not already done so, the necessity of their uniting themselves with the Athletic Association. The joining of this Association is not only your privilege but it is a duty which you owe to the Athletics of your institution. We are more than proud of the record made by our team on Sept. 30th, against the strong-est eleven in the country, that of the Univer-sity of Pennsylvania. It is very much to the credit of our men that their team could score but four touch downs in two twenty minute halves, three in the first and one in the second. Their star half-back, Morice, helped swell the score very materially by kicking two goals from the field in the second half. Dale and White did the best work on our part. Dale kicked very well and went around the end for 8 yards, while White went through tackle for 6 and gained 8 by circling the end. In all we gained, by carrying the ball, about 25 yards and captured it twice on downs. Their touch-down in the second half came near riot count-ing, as time was up while the man was run-ning with the ball. Our fellows well deserve the rousing recep-tion the}' received on their return home for, by playing the game they did, they added much to the athletic prestage of our institution. The men composing our opponents' team, such as Wharton, Woodruff, Morice, Dickson, etc., played their positions as they should be played. The line-up was as follows : GETTYSBURG. • POSITIONS. PENNSYLVANIA. Doty left-end Boyle Nicholas left-tackle Uffeuheimer Hagerman left-guard Woodruff Steifel centre Overfeild Koppenhaven right-guard Wharton Ott, Tholau right-tackle Farrar, McCracken Young right-end B. W. Dickson Lawyer quarter-back A. K. Dickson White left-half-back Gelbert Williams, Sheely right-half-back Morice Dale full-back Jackson Score—Pennsylvania, 32 ; Gettysburg, o. Touchdowns—Jack-sou, 3; Boyle, 1. Goals from field—Morice, 2. Substitutions— Tholan for Ott, Sheely for Williams Goodman for B. W. Dick-son, McCracken for' Farrar. Referee—George W. Brooke. Umpire—Dr. Charles H. Schroff. Linesman—Geo. W. Wood-ruff. Time of halves—Twenty minutes each. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 96 The fact that no foot ball team can stand three hard games in one week, was very forci-bly presented to us on Oct. 3rd, when our boys were defeated by F. and M. to the tune of 24 to nothing. State College, U. of Pa., and F. and M., is decidedly too much of a program for one week. Our team was considerably broken up by the games with State and U. P., and played by no means in their usual form. "The game was noticeable for the small amount of kicking indulged in by either side and the gains were principally made through tackles and around the ends. For Gettysburg, White and Sheely played a star game, while Cessna, Hosterman and Eocher, made brilliant plays for F. and M." We expect to return the compliment on the 17th, at which time we meet F. and M. on the home grounds. Manager Wheeler has had some difficulty in arranging dates but has finally secured the fol-lowing fine schedule: Oct. 10—Open. Oct. 17—F. and M. at Gettysburg. Oct. 24—Ursinus at Gettysburg. Oct. 31—Swathmore at Harrisburg. Nov. 7—Open. Nov. 14—Lehigh at Bethlehem. Nov. 21—St. Johns at Gettysburg. Nov. 26—Dickinson at Carlisle. "BRE'R JOHNSON'S" SERENADE. "Oh, kum kiss me ma honey ! Kum kiss me ebery minit. Dat yaller gal acros' de way, Lor' massey ! she ain't in it. "Yo' am de darlin' of my heart, , Yo' am de one I'd die fo'! Rise quickly from yo' slumbers sweet An' luk out ob yo' windo'. "Here in de dark ob night I stan', Singin' like bluddy murder, But, honey, ef yo' don' lub me I can't go on no furder. "De coon sleeps in de hollo', De woodchuck 's in his hoi', Al' am quiet lik, an' peaceful, 'Cept my lub tormented sol'." WE follow the Wittenburger in coming out for silver; that is, the dollar you owe for sub-scription to the MERCURY. Foot Ball Supplies. EVERYTHING FOB THE PLAYER, Jackets, Shoes, Stockings, -Jerseys, Shin Guards, Etc. Spalding's Official Intercol- *$& legiate Foot Ball, W'-/;"-^. Officially adopted by the Intercollegiate Association. COMPLETE CATALOGUE FALL AND WINTER SPORTS FREE. A. Q. Spalding & Bros., NEW YORK. PHILADELPHIA. CHICAGO. L. D. HjlLLER, 19 Main St., GETTYSBURG, Q-roosT, Qonfectione? and ffiruitsrsr. Ice Cream and Oysters in season. 4fc A 1\ i\ . Send us your ad- %i* "1 Jl I low NUPO dress and we X eiHPBNfiOSB MYBfiSjfc-- WATOHMAKEE AND rlEWELER, Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons, College Souvenir Spoons, No. io Baltimore Street, GETTYSBURG, PENN'A. J. A. TAWNEY Is ready to furnish clubs and boarding houses BREAD, ROLLS, &0., at short notice and reasonable rates. Cor.Washington and Middle Sts., Gettysburg. W^aHPIllHowwiS DEALERS IN Fresh Beef, Veal, Lamb, Pork, Pudding, Sausage, HAMS, LARD, &c-. GETTYSBURG, IMIM'A. JOHN L. SEEsiDS. NEW CIGAR STORE Next door io W. M. 'Depot, Gettysburg, 0 TO^ ^ ♦•HOTEL GETTYSBURG* -^BAfiBBfi SHOP.K-Centre Square. _B. M. SEFTON. 2fou will find a full line of Zrure *Drugs 6c J'ine Stationery Sreopte'a 7) rug otore. ^Proscriptions a Opocialty. cL Lj^lurqpGP, ZPhotographerj No. 2g Baltimore St., 1 GETTYSBURG SPECIAL ATTENTION PAID TO ollege £ffl ffiine QolUotion of. BATTLEFIELD VIEWS .tdU^>a'2s on hand. MAIL ORDERS RECEIVE PROMPT ATTENTION. (pStfc^ §£%jSj£^t --A-3>T:D— Hlliott & HOUSOP. N. B.—Stiff Eats made to Fit the Head in two minutes. H4T$,«P$, —^ —- BOOTS * SHOES. GS=Satisfaction Guaranteed.^) No. 6 S. Baltimore Street, GETTYSBURG, PA. por all Ihe latest styles in Suitings andTrousers, AND FULL LINE OF Cents' Furnishing Goods, Call or, D. H. WELSH, York, Pa. ADVERTISEMENTS. ••■/: • - i, . fe wj" | "~r ■ W~'~—f* I—v? ■SlV'7" A"*> ■ v/vi* I. Classical Course for the Degree of A. B. II. Scientific Course for the Degree of B. S. III. Post-Graduate Course for the Degree of Ph. D. IV. Special Course in all Departments. V. Elective Studies in Junior and Senior Years. VI. New Testament Greek and Hebrew in English Bible Department. Observatory, Laboratories and new Gymnasium. Four large buildings. All buildings heated with steam from central plant. Libraries, 25,000 volumes. Fine Museum. Expenses low'. Department of Hygiene and Physical Culture in charge of an experienced physician. Accessible by frequent railroad trains. Location, on BATTLEFIELD of Gettysburg; most pleasant and healthy. PREPARATORY DEPARTMENT, in separate buildings, for boys and young men preparing for business or college, under special care of the principal and three assistants, residing with students in the building. For full particulars, apply for catalogue to HARVEY W. MCKNIGHT, D. D., LL. D.,PRES'T., PeiiinsyUvfanSa QoHtege,, ©©ttysfoiwg, Pa»

Issue 62.1 of the Review for Religious, 2003. ; Life Together Ignatian Heritage Spiritual Fiber Personal Witness QUARTERLY 62.1 2003 Review for Religious helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to holiness by making available to them the spiritual legacies that flow from the cbarisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2002 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tk? n, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. 0 L~VING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Adv#ory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 62.1 2003 Building a Healthy Community Ecosystem Robert P. Maloney CM speaks of the critical need in religious life today for superiors who are real animators of their communities, and presents five moments that are essential for healthy local communities. 17 The Spirituality of CICLSAL's "Starting Afresh" Charles M. Mangan reviews a recent document from the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life, Starting .qfresb front Christ, which treats the primacy of the spiritual life for all consecrated persons. 27 38 Dialectic in the Spiritual Exercises William P. O'Brien SJ presents a model of the inner dynamic in people making the thirty-day retreat as a progression of dialectical shifts, and he shows how the text of the Ignatian Exercises follows this progression. Ignatian Women Past and Future Joan L. Roccasalvo CSJ writes about women who participated in the early apostolic works of the Society of Jesus. She then looks at four groups of women religious with an Ignatian spirituality and offers suggestions for renewal in the face of today's religious-life issues. Review for Religious 63 Learning from Jesus, the Son of Man A. Paul Dominic SJ explores the phrase "Son of man," used by Jesus to refer to himself, and sees implications for us Christians. 72 Perseverance: The Courage to Persist Dennis J. Billy CSSR describes perseverance in religious life as a daily activity requiring both a personal and communal commitment to the vows and community life. 83 When One Flower Blooms It is Spring Everywhere Catherine M. Hennessy MSC discovers in the diagnosis of Parkinson's disease a summons to grow in faith, trusting one's entire self to God, a journey without a timeline. 90 Solidarity with Afridan Women Religious Annmarie Sanders IHM finds that a research trip to investi-gate the educational needs of African women religious opens new insights into the mysterious power of intercessory prayer as an expression of solidarity, 4 Prisms 96 Canonical Counsel: Discretionary Dismissal 103 Book Reviews o2.1 200~ You now have in your hand the first quar-terly issue of Review for Religious. You may not have noticed the difference. Perhaps you did note that the usual dating by months was miss-ing on the cover and inside too. Instead of January-February 2003 on the cover, there is only the word Quarterly, with the designation 62.1, followed by 2003. With our worldwide dis-tribution between the northern and southern hemispheres, it seemed good not to identify our quarterly issues by seasons since there could be only confusion about whose summer and whose winter was being named. Each issue will be iden-tified throughout by its volume (e.g. 62) and its own particular number (e.g.1) and, of course, the year. The quarterly issues will be mailed in January, April, July, and October. Each issue will maintain the same quality articles by our contributors. But we hope that you will find a greater reading ease because of the slight change in our type size and its leading. The number of pages in each issue remains the same. Where we as editors intend to experiment and hope to get your response is in the two sup-plements that are included in your subscription price for the year 2003--the first identified with the Lent/Easter seasons and the second with the Advent/Christmas seasons. The supplements Review for Religious will be 32-page issues, with articles more relevant to the identified liturgical seasons. Each article in the supplement issue will be followed by some suggestions for your own prayer and reflection, stimulants for conversations between two or more, and perhaps a brief prayer or Christian heritage citation that will stir your own interaction. Rather than leaving a reader passive, we hope to encourage a greater personal involvement with an article and even more easily prompt a community discussion. We look for readers' reaction and response back to us as editors. If these experiments provided in the supplement issues receive shaping and support by your responses, we will eventually include them in the article presentations in the ordinary quarterly issues of the journal. In each supplement we will pro-vide a postcard for easy response. But you can also write, fax (314-977-7362), email (review@slu.edu), or log on to our web page (www.reviewforreligious.org). We ask that you do give us your response. The first supplement will be mailed in March and the second in November. Review for Religious has provided articles of infor-marion, pastoral help, and reflective inspiration through-out its history during the past century. As. we are in the beginning years of this new millennium, we desire to sustain and even enhance that long tradition. But now, through our supplement experiment, we seek to serve you, our readers, with a journal that more easily accom-modates the dialogue so necessary for our Catholic life-- dialogue with our God, dialogue within Ourselves, and dialogue with one another. As Pope Paul VI said, our way of being church is .today the way of dialogue. The editors of the Review desire that this journal continues to play an integral part in our being church. We hope that you will enter into the dialogue with us. ¯David L. Fleming SJ ~" 62.1 200:t ROBERT P. MALONEY Building a Healthy Community Ecosystem High above the mountain ranges of the Western United States glides the California condor, the largest bird in North America. With its wingspan of nine feet, it soars to an altitude of three miles~ swooping down from time to time to feed on red meat and salmon with a healthy appetite. Black body, bare head, red knees, this majestic bird has flown over the mountains and valleys of California, Nevada, and Arizona for millennia. But by 1990 only twenty-three remained, six in California and seventeen near the Grand Canyon in Arizona.It was an endan-gered species. Every species needs its own peculiar eco-logical system in order to survive. When that system is rich, the species thrives. As its ecosys-tem deteriorates, the species gradually dimin-ishes and may become extinct. Millions of Robert P. Maloney ClVl, superior general of the Congregation of the Mission, is a frequent contributor to this journal. He resides at Congregazione della Missione; Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma, Italy. Review for Religio us species that once inhabited the planet earth are now extinct. So too will it be one day for the human race. Will its ecosystem be destroyed by a violent cataclysm of human making, a massive bomb? Will it be destroyed when a g!ant asteroid crashes into the planet? Will it be destroyed by a suffocating pollution? Who knows? And religious life? Or the life of particular congre-gations of sisters, brothers, and priests? Nature teaches us the simple lesson that they will grow and flourish only if the ecosystem found and developed by their founders centuries ago, and renewed from time to time, remains salubrious. Otherwise they will decline and perhaps one day disappear. The Builders of the Ecosystem Today the word animation is used again and again. It means to give life, breath, soul, spirit. The documents of most contemporary communities state that superiors (or coordinators, supervisors, or whatever word is used to designate them) in a worldwide congregation, or in a province, or in a local house are called to be animators among the men or women with whom they live. This is no easy task. In fact, it is an enormous challenge. Two pieces of data highlight for me the critical nature of this challenge; one is existential, the other juridical and anthropological. The existential datum. Over the last several years, about three hundred members of my congregation between the ages of thirty-five and fifty have passed through a three-month ongoing formation program in Paris. They have come there from more than fifty coun-tries on all the continents. The priest who has been in charge of the program from the beginning has told me that the concern they have most frequently expressed is an uneasiness about community living. They sense that something is lacking in our life together. In the last three ,7 62.1 2003 Maloney * Building a Healthy Community Ecosystem If the superior is good at the job, the chances are that the local community will be very much alive. decades, most of our provinces have taken significant steps forward in the renewal of our apostolic life. Little by little we have focused more clearly on the poor and on our missionary nature. But many in the program ask: Have we found the right formula for our life together? Does community provide the faith support, the solidar-ity in action, the encouragement, the understanding, the home that many today--especially the young--seek when they join an apostolic society? This uneasiness, expressed by many, is the challenging existential datum that I find myself pondering. The second datum is juridical/anthropological, and it too is enormously challenging. Article 129 of the con-stitutions of my own con-gregation, which is similar to articles in ma.ny other constitutions, says: "The Congregation forms itself particularly in the individ-ual local communities." Even apart from juridical considerations, that is where congregations really live and .grow--in the local community. That is where we are either happy, or unhappy, where w.e either pray or do not pray, where we either feel support or do not feel it. That is where we either enjoy one another's company or flee from it, where we either plan and act in solidarity in serving the poor or where we merely park for the night at a convenient motel in order to go out again in the morning as a lone-ranger type of apostle. This juridical/anthropological datum raises the urgent question: Can we create in our local communities a healthy ecosystem where our members live, grow, and even thrive? Review for Religious But there is more to this second datum. The same article states: "The superior, as the center of unity and animator of the life of the local community, should pro-mote the ministries of the house and, with the commu-nity, should be concerned for the personal development and activity of each confrere." This paragraph states the importance of the local superior's role. He or she is a key animator in the local community, an energizer of its life and activity. Of course, superiors do not stand alone. Others share this responsibility. But, if the superior is good at the job, the chances are that the local community will be very much alive. And, if he or she is bad at it, the local community will have considerable difficulty finding the anima, the breath, that it needs in order to live healthily. What can we realistically hope for in regard to local superiors and local communities? I hope, first of all, that congregations will devise more effective ways for local superiors, along with those in their houses, to build up ecosystems where members will thrive. Surely, local com-munities are not all alike. Some are large. Some are small. Some revolve around a single work. Some embrace mul-tiple works. Given such variety, local superiors need to ¯ have specific tools for building healthy local ecosystems. That raises a critical problem and stirs up a second hope in me. The constitutions of most congregations propose a community plan for the life and activity of the local community. It is a covenant, so to speak. We com-mit ourselves to support each other in our apostolic labors, our life together, our prayer, our vows, our ongo-ing education--our very life. But I have the impression that many local communities--and this is the problem-- do not take the formulation, implementation, evalua-tion, and regular revision of a community plan seriously. During my visits to the provinces as superior general, I often note that local community plans are badly made9 62.1 2003 Maloney * Building a Healthy Community Ecosystem ¯ or are merely the daily order. This is also a frequent comment in the reports that provincials send me about their visits to local houses. So my second hope is this: that more and more members of congregations will take local .community planning seriously, and that local supe-riors will learn to do so too. Five Crucial Community Moments It is always important to speak about community con-cretely. Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said: "The person who loves his dream of community more than the real com-munity itself destroys community.''1 Community exists when we live it concretely and vitally. Let me dwell briefly on five significant elements in the ecosystem of community living. They are, so to speak, the air, the water, the sun, the fire, and the soil of local communities. Meals. It might seem strange that I begin with eating, though of course the principal communal act that Jesus left his followers was precisely a meal. My focus, how-ever, is not on food (though St. Vincent de Paul, my congregation's founder, encouraged treasurers to pro-vide good wine and good bread).2 My focus is on com-mon meals as a primary sign of union. When asked what are the most striking memories of their families, count-less people describe long festive dinners at Christmas or Easter in which people sat around the table telling sto-ries, or a time together on vacation when everyone ate together, and relaxed, sang, played games, and talked until late into the night. Of course, not every meal can be that way. But meals are a prime time for good human communication. They are times when our tradition is deepened because we hear stories from the past and speak of wonderful men and women whom we have known. They are times when our .tradition ia developed because new people express new insights and new ways of responding to the same values in the service of the poor. Review for Religious Decades ago reading at table occupied religious dur-ing meals. Today meals are an opportunity for genuine, interested table talk. But at times communities eat rapidly, with sparse conversation. In some houses it is hard to get everyone together even for a single meal a day. Crucial in the conversation that characterizes meals is attentive listening. As members of communities, we must be deeply interested in one another, in our back-grounds, our histories, our gifts, the projects that set us on fire. Few things are worse than having an excit-ing experience to relate, bringing it up at table, and finding no one eager to hear it. I regret to say that this happens often. Not long ago I felt agitated by what seemed an injustice done to a priest by a bishop. I tried to tell my story to two people. Both were preoc-cupied with other things that day. When I was a short way into my story, one after the other interrupted to tell his own story. I had to conclude that it was my turn to listen, and I never got my story out that day. Of course, the Eucharistic meal plays a most signif-icant role in our lives. It is a time for attentive listening to the word of God, for genuine stiaring in faith, and for union in the life of the Lord. Some of my striking memories in community have been wonderful Eucharistic celebrations. That brings me to a second key element in an invigoratingcommunity ecosystem. Prayer. Here let me mention two distinctive moments. Common liturgical prayer should be prepared well and celebrated beautifully and meditatively. When this is the case, it is a significant time for us to be in contact with God, with one another, and with young Crucial in the conversation that characterizes meals is attentive listening. I! 62 1 2003 Maloney ¯ BuiMing a Healthy Community Ecosystem people who hunger to.pray with us. It can be a time when we cry out: It is good to give thanks to the Lord, to make music to your name, O most High, to proclaim your love in the morning and your truth in the watches of the night. (Ps 92:2-3) Of course, if our prayer is routine, ill-prepared, and dis-tracted, it is of little value. Then, as a great saint once put it, it is like "barking dogs" in the presence of God. But, done well in the tradition of the church, l~turgical prayer is something beautiful for God and attractive to the .par-ticipants, especially today's young people in their thirst for an experience of prayer. Meditative prayer can seem a rather solitary exercise, but it is crucial that community members support one another in reflecting on God's word and in contemplat-ing God's presence. Over the years I have felt that sup-port very much. I. am encouraged when I find myself meditating with my brothers and sisters. If the liturgy is "the summit toward which the activity of the church is directed" (Sacrosanctum conciliurn, §10), meditative prayer is an important foundation stone. It strengthens 'our faith, and so, of course, communities members should encourage each other in it. Members of small communities often say that it is almost impossible for them to pray together because they are so few and are busy with multiple works. I am in utter disagreement with their conclusion. I realize, of course, that the prayer of a small community cannot be the same as that of a large community. But even in small communities we must pray together. If we do not find the time to do so, we are lost. Faith sharing is one of the contemporary forms that the traditional "repetition of prayer" is taking. It can be a powerful moment in building community if the mem- Review for Religious bers share their faith with great simplicity. Faith sharing is not meant to be a homily prepared ahead of time, nor is it meant to be a release for one's pent-up anxieties. Rather, it is a spontaneous expression of our hopes, our doubts, our joys, our pain as we live and pray before the Lord. If we wrestle with life and share our sense of who we are and what we seem called to be and do in the light of the gospel, I am confident that we will come to know and appreciate one another mucl~ more deeply. Fun. If prayer is the human heart searching for God, humor helps us to realize that God is unpredictable, as are most of us, his creatures. Humor is linked to our perception of incongruity. There is much that is incon-gruous in our lives, if only we can see it with a little bit of distance. It is very important to have fun in community. Fun fosters harmony, preventing us from being overly serious about ourselves. Important as it is that the community work together, it is also important that we relax together and laugh from time to time, that we enjoy one another's company. In this way we will see different aspects of each other's personality too. Thomas Aquinas says a striking thing about playful-ness: "Unmitigated seriousness betokens a lack of virtue, because it wholly despises play which is as necessary for a good human life as is rest." A local community should be creative in organizing times of diversion. I lived in a house where once a week, at night, we watched a video-tape of a movie together. Actually, we now do this from time to time in our general curia. We agree on the film ahead of time. Somebody prepares a few snacks, and we sit around and talk about it afterwards. I love it, and so does everybody else. Nobody has to come, but every-body does. I lived in a community in Panama wher~ we came together from separate mission houses every Monday in 62.1 2003 Maloney * Building a Healthy Community Ecosystem order to pray together, hold a meeting, and then enjoy the rest of the day in each other's company. Almost nobody on the mission ever missed that day. There are many other possibilities, but it is very important that we enjoy one another's company, laugh, relax, and at times simply have fun. Meetings. Even though meetings are sometimes a scourge in our lives, or, as many have suggested, one of the contemporary forms of mortification, they are nonetheless a very important community moment. They are a time when important communication takes place. They should be a moment in which everyone feels included and in which people feel a common responsi-bility for the values being shared and the decisions being made. I suggest that two meetings are of particular impor-tance. The first is the meeting for formulating the local community plan. Unfortunately, as I have already men-tioned, many communities still do this poorly, making it an occasion for deciding on an order of day, rather than a time for creativity. They are slow to exercise the flexi-bility that their constitutions provide. But the meeting for formulating the local community plan can be pre-cisely the time in which the ecosystem that I am describ-ing can be created, developed, enriched, and covenanted. The second is the meeting for evaluation, for revision de vie. We seek ongoing communal conversion within community. Evaluation times are times to reflect, hon-estly and peacefully, on our mission and our lifestyle. At such meetings people can offer suggestions for the growth of a local community. Often the key is balance, the ability to integrate various values: mission, prayer, life together. In our lives simple dialogue is essential, drawing out from one another our feelings and thoughts, posing helpful questions; giving one's own reaction with-out being either defensive or aggressive. Review for Religious Apostolate. The apostolates of religious communities have a communal dimension. In our era characterized by individualism, it is crucial that local superiors plan in common with the members of their houses, evaluate in common, and animate the members of the community to work as a team as much as possible. There are few things that tie us together more than cooperating in an exciting common apostolic project. It is wonderful when, in a healthy sense, we are all proud of what we do in a mis-sion or seminary or parish or school or soup kitchen or social-justice program. There are many ways of showing apostolic solidarity. Do we listen to what our brothers or sisters have done during the day when, com-ing home tired, they want to chat with us in the evening? Do we let them share with us the challenges they meet in their aposto- ¯ lates? Do we pray for and with our brothers and sis-ters in their apostolates? Can local communities truly be called "apostolic communities"? Or are they just workers' residences? Common interest in the work of each local community member is a powerful unifying force. A final word. Not every community w!ll renew itself and attain the ideals envisioned by the constitutions of the institute. A provincial and his council have the dif-ficult task of working toward the gradual renewal of the local communities. As they do that, I suggest that younger members be assigned only to communities that engage in a serious process of renewal. It is those com-munities that carry the seeds of future life. A province with three communities where the members live life The key is balance, the ability to integrate various values: mission, prayer, life together. 62.1 2003 Maloney ¯ Building a Healthy Community Ecosystem vitally has a real future. A province with twenty com-munities where the members just survive is not likely to survive. Unless a province builds genuinely participa-tive communities, it dies. And the California condor? I am happy to report that in the last decade its number has increased from twenty-three to a hundred and twenty (a good-sized province!). Those who love this majestic bird redeveloped an ecosys-tem where it could live and even thrive. I hope we can do the same thing in our local communities. Notes Dietrich Bonhoeff~r. Life Together (London, 1954), p. 15. SV llI, 505. SV refers to the 14-volume French edition of St. Vincent's works, edited by Pierre Coste (Paris: Gabalda, 1920-1925). Friday It's the day of the cross. A crucifix hangs on my bedroom wall, gore masked by silver paint, beams sanded smooth. Even in euphemized translation void of smell and moan of death the message is clean Dressing my unpierced body and combing hair unnettled with thorns, I look through the crosshairs of the coming hours and reflect on the risk of murmuring "Thy will be done." Patricia Schnapp RSM Review for Religious CHARLES M. MANGAN The Spirituality of CICLSAL's "Starting Afresh" (~'~! tarting Afresh from Christ: A Renewed Commitment to Consecrated Life in the Third Millennium" is the recent instruction, dated 19 May 2002, published by the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL). This fifty-seven-page document, originally written in Italian, stems from the congregation's plenary session on 25-28 September 2001 in Vatican City. Mindful of the 25 March 1996 apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata of Pope John Paul II and of his vision for the Third Christian Millennium as enunciated in his 6 January 2001 apostolic letter Novo millennio ineunte, the members of the plenary did not intend "to produce another doctrinal document, but rather to help consecrated life enter into the great pastoral guidelines of the Holy Father with the contributon of his authority and of charismatic service to unity and to the universal mission of the church" (§4). Charles M. Mangan is a priest of the Diocese of Sioux Falls and an official in the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life. His address is Villa Stritch; Via della Nocetta, 63; 00164 Roma, Italy. 17 62.1 2003 Mangan ¯ The Spirituality of "Starting Afresh" "Starting Afresh from Christ" presents many aspects of consecrated life, but it focuses "primarily on spirituality." Although onewill find references to the importance of the spiritual life for consecrated men and women throughout this text, one entire part, among four, is exclusively dedicated to the topic. This essay briefly discusses that part's seminal points concerning the primacy of spiritua!ity in the consecrated life. Part 3 is tided "Spiritual Life in the First Place" (§§20-32). From this let us identify five essential dimensions regarding spirituality for consecrated persons. A Receptivity to the Holy Spirit's Stirrings Just as the founders and foundresses of religious institutes yielded to the mysterious intimations of the Holy Spirit, so today's consecrated persons must be marked by their incredible docility to him, permitting themselves "to be led by the Spirit to a constantly renewed discovery of God and of his Word, to a burning love for God and for humanity, and to a new understanding of the charism which has been given" (§20). Those founders and foundresses enjoyed an initial experience of the Paraclete that is to be preserved and ever deepened by contemporary consecrated persons. The Holy Spirit's actions are always fresh and creative. Consecrated men and women, by their openness to him, are drawn into a profound intimacy with the Lord. An "intense sp!rituality" really means living according to the Holy Spirit. If consecrated life is to have the "spiritual rebirth" that it needs, then the spiritual life must occupy the foremost position in each institute and in the heart of each consecrated man and woman. How does a consecrated person live spiritually? By attending to the evangelical counsels, imitating the inner life of love and communion of the Blessed Trinity, adhering to the charism of the institute as contained in its Review for Religious constitutions, and embracing the church's teaching regarding consecrated life, especially Vita consecrata. A deeper spirituality then emerges, one "which is more ecclesial and communitarian, more demanding and mature in mutual support in striving for holiness, more generous in apostolic choices." Indeed, a profound spirituality demonstrated by consecrated men and women will be of particular benefit to the Mystical Body of Christ because of its ability to edi~ and summon others to a more authentic spiritual life. The movement of the Holy Spirit in the consecrated life effects genuine communion bervceen the members, allowing them then to share what they have received in their mission to the people of God. Jesus Christ, the Sole Point of Departure "To start afresh from Christ" signifies that consecrated persons, led by the Holy Spirit, recommit themselves to the critical path of conversion and renewal. The Apostles accepted this way twenty centuries ago. Only by conversion and renewal is one made available for the announcement of the kingdom of God. While one's sinfulness must humbly be acknowledged, it need not be an insuperable deterrent to following Jesus. He has bestowed his call on consecrated persons, all of whom require his abundant grace to respond generously. Consecrated life, to quote Vita consecrata, is "a living memorial of Jesus' way of living and acting as the incarnate Word in relation to the Father and in relation to the brethren" (§22). Christ is the center and source of all that consecrated persons are and do. The consecrated life does not exist without the evangelical counsels, which enable religious to love the Lord and embrace his will; the communitarian life, in which Jesus assembles his friends around himself and bestows on them his lasting presence; the mission, which obligates consecrated persons to seek 19 62.1 200~ Mangan ¯ The Spirituality of"Starting Afresh" Christ in others and convey his overwhelming love and mercy to them. If consecrated men and women do not realize God's love for them, their efforts will be useless. He has loved first. All love is a response to his love. Courage is essential in the genuine living of poverty, chastity, and obedience, the absence of which takes the wind out of the sails of consecrated life. The Holy Father earlier challenged all consecrated persons to let themselves be guided always by the contemplation of Christ's face. This contemplation is possible particularly in (1) his word and sacraments, primarily the Holy Eucharist; (2) the church, gathered in his name; (3) all people, especially the poor, the suffering, and the needy; (4) each event of life. Holiness is the result of the encounter with Jesus. Religious can recognize the Master only if they are steeped in faith. The "habitual reading" of the word of God, prayer, and acts of charity are demanded if religious are to know Jesus. A "lived spirituality," frequent pondering of their institute's charism, and prayerful investigation into the sources employed by their founder or foundress provide welcome vigor to the spiritual life of consecrated persons. The Centrality of God's Word As the Holy Father has observed, "the first source of all spirituality" is the Word of God. Without reading the Scriptures, consecrated persons will not obtain sanctity. Founders and foundresses, convinced of this, were captivated and inspired by the word. The consecrated men and women of our era likewise must be. Happily, there has been a renewal in love for and contact with the word within communities of consecrated persons. They must continually ponder Sacred Scripture, especially the Gospels. By referring often to their Rule and Review for Religious constitutions, consecrated persons find the "particular interpretation of the gospel given by the founder and foundresses as the result of a particular prompting of the Spirit, and it helps the members of the institute to live concretely according to the word of God" (§24). When consecrated persons are formed by the Lord's word, they develop into "servants of the Word in the task of evangelization." Prayer and contemplation have a specific rapport with the word of God. They furnish the ambient for receiving the word, and they themselves spring from that very Word. How tragic if a consecrated person tries to live without the Word! "As a consequence life itself loses meaning, the faces of brothers and sisters are obscured and it becomes impossible to recognize the face of God in them, historical events remain ambiguous and deprived of hope, ~and apostolic and charitable mission become nothing more than widespread activity" (§2 5). Contemplation, which originates in communion and friendship with Christ, brings forth vocations to the consecrated life. Pope John Paul II contends that the "first task" of consecrated men and women is contemplation. There are myriad forms of prayer and contemplation. One community will differ from another in this respect. Yet the Liturgy of the Hours and the Mass are paramount regardless of the institute. When consecrated persons go to Mass and recite the Liturgy of the Hours, God is adored, these consecrated men and women are blessed in their endeavor, and others who Contemplation, which originates in ¯ communion and friendship with Christ, brings forth vocations to the consecrated life. 2I 62.1 2003 Mangan ¯ The Spirituality of "Starting Afresb" notice are touched. Each consecrated person must daily set aside time "to enter deeply into silent conversation" with Jesus. Consecrated persons share who they are and what they have with the Lord, who in turn enlightens them so that they may progress along the path to everlasting life. Faithfulness to prayer is not always easy for the consecrated person. "At times fidelity to personal and liturgical prayer will require a true effort not to allow oneself to be swallowed up in frenetic activism." Christ, who inspires prayer, will bring forth good fruit from those consecrated persons who strive to communicate well and often with him. Eucharist as Privileged Locus for Meeting Jesus, and the Need for Asceticism and Penance The Mass is the renewal of the paschal mystery-- Christ's passion, death, and resurrection. There is for consecrated persons no substitute for the daily Mass and extended adoration of the Holy Eucharist. In the Mass we are doubly fed. We receive God's Word proclaimed in the Sacred. Scriptures and his very Body and Blood under the appearances of bread and wine. Nourished by the hand of the Good Shepherd through the daily Mass, consecrated men and women become more capable of praising him as he deserves, strengthening the bonds of communion, and participating in the apostolic mission to the world. "We all need the daily viaticum of encounterwith the.Lord in order to bring, everyday life into sacred time which is made present in celebration of the Lord's Memorial" (§26). What happens in the lives of consecrated persons because of their connection to the Eucharist? They become further conformed to Christ. As he offered himself to his Father, so consecrated persons offer themselves and are themselves offered by Jesus to his Father in paradise. The fortifying of communion and Review for" Religious mission that occurs because of the Eucharist is impossible without "mutual forgiveness and the commitment to love one another." Imbued with the spirit of the Eucharist, consecrated persons forgive and are attentive to the needs of their neighbors. Each Mass is an opportunity for consecrated persons to renew their commitment of service to their brothers and sisters. It is in the Eucharist that "the community of consecrated persons., becomes a witness of communion and a prophetic sign of solidarity for a divided and wounded society. In fact, the spirituality of communion, so necessary to establish the dialogue of charity needed in today's world, is born in the Eucharist." What Jesus did on Calvary was no less than give his life, which was "the greatest expression of his love--and the Eucharist relives the mystery of this moment" (§27). By the practice of asceticism, consecrated men and women demonstrate their wish to be united to the Son of God. Self-denial, which is to be "consonant with our times," associates consecrated persons to Christ. Then they seek his suffering face, as they do when they console the sick, the imprisoned, the poor, and sinners. The outreach rendered by consecrated persons has encouraged those they have assisted to have recourse to the sacrament of reconciliation. Consecrated men and women, too, must regularly avail themselves of confession. Given the new moral and spiritual poverties of our age, consecrated personsare to do as Jesus would: aid the needy in their trials and "take upon themselves the pain and the sin of the world, consuming them in love." Communion: Sine Qua Non for Consecrated Life The "spirituality of communion" compels consecrated persons to do all. they can to start or continue a dialogue rooted in charity. Attempts to spread communion by consecrated men and women are to encompass all 23 62.1 2003 Mangan ¯ The Spirituality of "Starting Afresh" peoples, but especially those who reside in locations oppressed by ethnic hatred or violence. For consecrated persons, communion begins in their contemplation of the Blessed Trinity dwelling within the human soul. All persons, then, are seen as brothers and sisters worthy of love and respect. Consecrated persons offer their friendship and compassion, desiring to share in the sufferings of the burdened. Communion is the extension of consecrated persons to those outside of their community, but it also has an intra dimension within their community. "The divine and human value of being together freely in friendship and sharing even moments of relaxation and recreation together as disciples gathered around Christ the Teacher is being rediscovered" (§29). Communion among different communities of the same institute is also vital. Vita consecrata, Novo millennio ineunte, and "Fraternal Life in Community," the 2 February 1994 instruction issued by CICLSAL, are helpful in understanding the notion and application of communion. Every endeavor to sustain communion among institutes should be fostered. A "joint search for common ways of serving the church" (§30) ensures that a crippling isolation need not hold sway. The following of Jesus Christ by consecrated persons is to be enjoyed together among various institutes. Consecrated men and women gain much from being exposed to the solid "ecclesial movements" that have recently blossomed in the church. An exchange between institutes and these movements benefits each. Consecrated men and women are to collaborate and experience communion with the laity. This cooperation is multifaceted. "Monastic and contemplative institutes can offer the laity a relationship that is primarily spiritual and the necessary spaces for silence and prayer. Institutes committed to the apostolate can involve them in forms of pastoral collaboration. Members of secular institutes, lay Review for Religious or clerical, relate to other members of the faithful at the level of everyday life" (§31). There is a host of secular orders, third orders, and lay associations that enable the laity to live to some degree "the charismatic ideals" of religious institutes. Formation of consecrated persons and the laity will facilitate these projects and permit them to continue. The long-anticipated renewal of consecrated life will reap the fruits of this cooperation. "In this new climate of ecclesial communion, priests, religious, and the laity, far from ignoring each other or coming together only for a common activity, can once again find the just relationships of communion and a renewed experience of evangelical communion and mutual charismatic esteem resulting in a complemen-tarity which respects the differences." Communion is a mere chimera if the bishops, including the bishop of Rome, are left out of the equation. We marvel at the genuine sentiment of "feeling with the church" that marked the lives of the founders and foundresses of institutes. "It is impossible to contemplate the face of God without seeing it shining in that of the church. To love Christ is to love the church in her persons and institutions" (§32). In this period of frequent and even public dissent from the church's teachings, consecrated men and women must be the exception. They are to be "convinced and joyful spokespersons before all" of the magisterium's proclamation of the truth. Consecrated persons are to Consecrated men and women gain much from being exposed to the solid " ecclesial movements" that have recently blossomed in the church. 2~ 62.1 2003 Mangan * The Spirituality of "Starting Afresh" give their allegiance of mind and heart to the magisterium. Consecrated persons enjoy the liberty to make known to their bishops and to the diocesan clergy with whom. they work their opinions and proposals. The church's charismatic and hierarchical elements upbuild each other. Starting Afresh from Christ is a restatement at the beginning of this millennium of the cherished principles of consecrated life. The spiritual life is keenly stressed because of its inarguable primacy for all consecrated men and women. May consecrated persons, imitating the Blessed Virgin Mary, in whom "all the charisms of consecrated life are mirrored and renewed" (§46), increase in their ardor for the face of Christ and his church and start afresh to serve, in true communion and charity, their brothers and sisters. Starting Afresh from Christ: A Renewed Commitment to Consecrated Life in the Third Millennium was published by the Libreria Editrice Vaticana in Vatican City and may be found on the Vatican website (www.vatican.va). See also Origins 32, no. 8 (4July 2002). 26A Plea Lord, I want to be the lamb you cuddle to your cheek; the one you rescue from tight places, that very one you seek whose senseless straying your vast love pursues; whose wounds you bind, heal. The one, if ever lost, you rush to find. Avis Kunca Kubick Review for Religious WILLIAM P. O'BRIEN Dialectic in the Spiritual Exercises In the summer of 2000, I participated in a spir-itual- direction practicum with Jane Ferdon Op and George Murphy SJ at the Jesuit School of Theology in Berkeley, California. George and Jane teach a contemplative approach to spiri-tual direction, by which the director seeks to help the directee focus on and remain with expe-riences of God.~ That fall I put this approach into practice, offering individual spiritual direc-tion and, the following summer, giving person-ally directed eight-day retreats at Jesuit Retreat House in Los Altos, California. Later that sum-mer I accepted an invitation to join a team to direct the thirty-day Spiritual Exercises at Milford Spiritual Center in Milford, Ohio. Although eager for the experience, I worried that the contemplative approach might not work for the long retreat, with its thoroughly out-lined series of meditations. To my wonder and William P. O'Brien SJ is doing graduate study in spiritual-ity at the Jesuit School of Theblogy at Berkeley. His address is 2535 Le Conte Avenue; Berkeley, California 94709. o2.1 2003 O'Brien ¯ Dialectic in the Spiritual Exercises~ delight, I found that, because God moves people in ways the Exercises follow and promote, the contemplative approach does indeed work in that context. Other direc-tors have had similar experiences.2 Reflecting on this, I have come up with a simplified model for understanding the interior movement in peo-ple making the long retreat. In the first part of this essay, I examine a progression of dialectical shifts. Then I show that the text of the Exercises, follows such a progression. In light of these findings, I propose that the enterprise of spiritual direction calls the retreat director to trust God more deeply as the true master of souls. Quotations of the Exercises are from the Ivens translation.3 Interior Movement as Dialectic The human soul in contact with God tends to behave in characteristic movements of negation and affirmation. This may lead to either spiritual desolation or spiritual consolation, depending upon how the retreatant responds, but there is always an invitation to know God more deeply.4 As people grow in relationship with God, they find themselves more focused on others and conse-quently less on themselves. In this process we can distinguish five progressive moments as the heart receives God's love.5 The first is when the self deeply realizes that it exists rather than not existing. The second is when the existing self, believ-ing itself bad, sees itself as good. The third is when the good self, recognizing its sinfulness, finds itself forgiven. The fourth is when the forgiven self, feeling conflicted, hears itself called. And the fifth is when the called self, now deeply aware of its limitation, experiences itself accepted by God. Each new moment incorporates the resolution from the preceding moment. Thus, for exam-ple, before the self can deeply recognize its sinfulness, it already must have seen its basic goodness.6 The deepest Review for Religious union with God implies the other four moments. In other words, to discover the depth of negation and affir-mation in our lives constitutes spiritual growth. People may wonder here whether these interior moments represent a historical or logical reality, and whether the progression happens necessarily. First, because people can recog-nize these moments in themselves and in others, we can say that they are pat-terns in their life histories and therefore have a histor-ical character. Furthermore, because each new moment presupposes the preceding one and tends to develop into the next, we can see a certain logic here. But, because the movement has to do with making choices freely and with developing personal relationships, we cannot speak of any histori-cal necessity in the progres-sion. In other words, although reflecting on the dynamic can help us recognize interior movements in a retreatant, we cannot predict those movements. And, while the pro-gressive moments seem to have an internal logic, nei-ther can we deduce the moments necessarily as we might draw a conclusion from premises. The interior life oper-ates through psychological, social, and biological realities, not abstract ideas. But the strongest evidence that the progression does not develop in a necessary fashion is that retreatants often revisit moments they appear to have resolved. Some retreatants one day have a strong sense of their own sin- While we cannot know for sure where God will lead any of us, we can recognize general patterns and thus a common ¯ spiritual dynamic in the .unique histories of particular retreatants. 62.1 2003 O'Brien ¯ Dialectic in the Spiritual Exercises fulness and God's forgiveness, only to return a little later to those same issues. Others make the long retreat a number of times, apparently engaging the same pro-gression over and over again. From these cases it appears that we cannot claim to have finished with a moment once and for all, and that most retreatants move moment to moment according to a more or less natural develop-ment. Many variables influence their movements, includ-ing circumstances, free will, and the intention of the Spirit, And so, while we cannot know for sure where God will lead any of us, we can recognize general pat-terns and thus a common spiritual dynamic in the unique histories of particular retreatants. Dialectic in the Spiritual Exercises We have considered how the soul in touch with God appears to move dialectically according to an interior spiritual dynamic. Those giving the long retreat can facil-itate this movement by paying attention to the charac-teristic patterns of the Spirit's work in retreatants and as the Spiritual Exercises describe and track them. To ini-tiate this process, directors might give retreatants some time to reflect on God's presence, beginning with a recognition of their desires--if only the desire to make the retreat) Some instruction in prayer methods may help: centering prayer, lectio divina, consciousness exa-men, and so forth. Directors also may want to share with retreatants the Annotations from the beginning of the text (§§1-20), as Ignatius suggests,s Through this reflec-tion retreatants typically begin to recognize both the gift quality of their lives and God's personal love for them-- the first two moments of the dialectic wherein they real-ize that they exist and see themselves as good. Retreatants seem to receive these initial graces more as movements of the affect than as the acquisition of ideas, which is to say they sense that their lives come as free gifts and they Review for Religious feel loved by God. Directors should encourage these movements in any way possible, perhaps by sharing some scripture passages or the text of the First Principle and Foundation (§23). As retreatants grow in awareness of God's love for them, they often notice that certain internal factors block their acceptance of this love. In Quest for Sanctity Gerald Grosh includes among these factors an adherence to legalistic principles, an acquiescence to addictive impulses, and a propensity to think badly of oneself.9 The challenge for directors now involves recognizing these blockages and help!ng retreatants negotiate them by focusing on the presence of God. Retreatants take more or less time to accept God's love and the gift quality of their lives, and some may never do so. In any case, directors must keep in mind that the Spirit directs the retreat and controls the giving of graces. To work against the Spirit by moving to some Other moment of the dynamic or some other part of the Exercises generally results in confusion and frustration for all involved. Having received these initial graces, sometimes as dramatic and consoling experiences, retreatants often begin to consider on their own how they have responded to God's love and gift of life. At this point they may sense in themselves a tendency to move away from God--the tendency we call sin. We can think of sin as the shadow that each of us casts in the light of God's love. Awareness of this shadow signals movement into what Ignatius calls the First Week of the Exercises, where the various med-itations serve to develop this awareness of and contri-tion for personal sin. The grace of this week thus appears in recognizing oneself as a loved sinner--that God con-tinues to affirm us despite our propensity to turn away.~° Awareness exercises such as examens of conscience and consciousness can help in this process (§§24-43). 62.1 2003 O'Brien * Dialectic in the Spiritual Exercises At this point in the Exercises, Ignatius introduces the four-part prayer method by which retreatants express their intention for the prayer period at hand (§46), con-sider the setting of the meditation they plan to make (§47), ask for the particular grace they desire (§481, and engage in heart-to-heart communication with God and the other figures who appear to the imagination (§§53-54). He then presents the familiar content of five exercises to follow: the history of sin--among the angels (§50), among the first humans (§51), and of any particular person (§52); a meditation on one's own sins (§§55-61); a repetition of the previous exercise and a "colloquy" with Mary, Jesus, and God the Father (§§62-63); a more general summary exercise (§64); and the meditation on hell (§§65-71). These five exercises engage retreatants sequentially, help-ing them focus first on their egocentrism before leading them to consider their idolatry and their way of treating others as things, to meditate on their core sin, to recog-nize their fundamental need for salvation, and finally to dwell on the spontaneous sense of gratitude they feel for having received that salvation as a free gift. The impor-tance of the meditations thus lies in the inner experience they track rather than in their content, and directors may use material as seems appropriate.11 Finding themselves saved (forgiven) humbles retreatants and helps them see themselves as loved sin-ners, which marks the third moment of the dialectic. In this feeling of humility lies the key to the movement out of the First and into the Second Week, as gratitude stirs the retreatants to know the One who saved them. They often experience this desire as a call to which they respond with timidity and reluctance, feeling their inter-nal conflict. Resolution of this conflict marks the fourth movement of the dialectic, which the meditation on the Call of the King develops (§§91-98). To expand the desire to know their Savior, retreatants may find it helpful to Review for Religious .meditate on the early life of Jesus: incarnation and annun-ciation (8§101-109), nativity (88110-117), presentation and flight into Egypt (8132), finding in the temple (8134), Nazareth and baptism--even up to the temptation, as this seems in keeping with their sensibilities. The retreatants' attraction to Jesus naturally grows as they consider him in his poverty, transparency, and vul-nerability. But, as they come to know and identify with him, they may notice that an attraction within themselves to riches, honor, and pride forestalls deeper intimacy. This awareness of personal limitation begins to resolve itself in the fifth moment as they feel ever more deeply God's acceptance of them as they are. The preference for the way of Jesus thus represents not sim-ply an external "doctrine" (8145), but the retreatants' own intuition into themselves and the One who saved them. The Two Standards meditation follows this move-ment (88136-147), but directors may encourage the dynamic using other materials. Here retreatants natu-rally begin to reflect on their availability to choose iden-tification with Jesus in concrete situations and consider how ready they might or might not be to follow him unreservedly. Ignatius proposes the meditation on Three Classes of People to facilitate this reflection (88149-156), but again directors may suggest other resources. In considering the depth of their commitment, retreatants may feel drawn to reflect on how Jesus lived out these values in his own public ministry, so that they learn to serve by watching him serve. Passages from Scripture might help engage this sense of vocation and The retreatants" attraction to Jesus naturally grows as they consider him in his poverty, transparency, and vulnerability. 62.1 2003 O'Brien ¯ Dialectic in the Spiritual Exercises mission, as may biographies of holy men and women (§ 100). Meditation on the public ministry of Jesus, which can take from seven to twelve days or more (§§158-161), often leads retreatants to a greater or lesser feeling of love for him. Ignatius invites retreatants to reflect on this range of feelings as Three Kinds of Humility (§§ 165- 168), but directors once again may use a variety of mate-rials in order to develop the heartfelt but qualified desire for intimacy with God. As this desire grows in retreatants, they may want to walk with jesus through his Passion (§§190-209), as this leads to deeper union with the one they first experienced as Savior, signaling movement into the Third Week. As always, the director encourages retreatants to remain focused on God's presence and to respond generously to the invitations of the Spirit (§5). To help maintain this focus, Ignatius suggests attention to eating habits (§§210-217). At some point, retreatants may want to consider the buria! and subsequent resurrection of Jesus as recorded in the Scriptures and tracked in the meditations for the Fourth Week (§§218-225). John English suggests that an imperative to "go and tell other people" might arise here from the retreatants' own prayer, further calling them out of themselves.~2 Regardless, the focus must remain on God's call. The dynamic continues to engen-der a deepening of affirmation through the various moments as retreatants recognize God's loving action everywhere. The director may want to use the Contemplation to Attain Love as a means to promote this movement (§§230-237). A Call to Trust Recognizing the dynamic in both the Exercises and the experience of my retreatants encourages me as direc-tor to trust that God rather than I or the retreatants ini- Review for Religious tiates and sustains the movement. Accordingly I think of my role primarily as helping retreatants bring to birth in therhselves the fruit of the Spirit.~3 In so doing I facil-itate the work of the parakletos who leads Christians to deeper appreciation of the Gospels' truth and strength-ens them in difficulty.~4 Peter-Hans Kolvenbach uses similar language in describing the retreatant as "one who wishes to be seized by the Spirit and who goes to another for help about how to let that happen--help which will not 'hinder.'" Kolvenbach rightly emphasizes the desires of the retreatant for God and for help in engaging God, such that "both [the giver and the receiver of the Exercises] ought to stay attentive to what the Spirit is doing rather than to what the one giving the Exercises might seem to suggest." Kolvenbach critiques two oppos-ing extremes of direction style, one he characterizes as the "disappearing director" and the other as the "over-rigid director." as The former takes a hands-off approach, erring on the side of no help, while ~he latter takes a hands-on approach, erring on the side of interference. In fulfilling their charge, directors learn to walk a mid-dle road focused on God's presence. Having said this, we cannot ignore the need many retreatants express for practical training and assistance to hear God speak. As they come to resonate with the voice of the Spirit, they still may look for explicit help from their directors until eventually. ~he directors find themselves walking With their retreatants, primarily as companions or listening aides. But note that the interior development of the retreatant under the guidance of the Spirit sets the tone for the relationship rather than any plan in the mind of the director. Again, the director's role involves helping retreatants attend to religious experience. Any change in the relationship between director and retreatant as the retreat progresses should thus come as both grow in spir-itual freedom from hearing and trusting God. O'Brien ¯ Dialectic in the Spiritual Exercises Notes t For a description of this approach, see William A. Barry SJ "The Contemplative Attitude in Spiritual Direction," Review for Religious 35 (1976): 820-828. z For an early account see William A. Barry SJ, "The Experience of the First and Second Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises," Review for Religious 32 (1973): 102-109. 3 Michael Ivens SJ, Understanding the Spiritual Exercises: Text and Commentary: A Handbook for Retreat Direciors (Leominster, Here-fordshire: Gracewing, 1998). For a more technical analysis of the Spiritual Exercises using Hegelian categories, see Edouard Pousset SJ, Life in Faith and Freedom: An Essay Presenting. Gaston Fessard's Analysis of the Dialectic of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, ed. and trans. Eugene L. Donahue SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1980). 4 The terms "spiritual desolation" and "spiritual consolation" refer to the existential orientation of the human soul in relation to God. The states come about from either rejecting relationship with the Lord (desolation) or choosing it (consolation). Spiritual conso-lation reveals itself in love of the creator and the love of creation implicit therein, an increase of hope, faith, and charity, and peace of soul; spiritual desolation reveals itself in their opposites (§§314-317). 5 The term "moment" here refers, not to an interval in time, but to a passage in the interior life. Avoiding such terms as "phase" and "step" is meant here to discourage thinking of the spiritual journey as analogous to either growing up or ascending a ladder. Souls, in fact, seem to progress in a spiral rather than linear fashion, such that we constandy find ourselves revisiting interior spaces and relearning spiritual lessons as our relationship with God deepens. This being said, each successive "moment" implies those preceding it, as fur-ther explained in the body of this article and in footnote 6. 6 Because interaction with God changes people, each moment constitutes a different way of experiencing the dynamic of negation and acceptance. In this sense such terms as "conflicted self" and "limited self" refer to specific moments in the progression, even though we ordinarily speak of sinfulness as internal conflict or lim-itation. The idea is that, having experienced forgiveness (see Lk 15:21-24), we still find ourselves capable of turning away from God. For this reason we speak of God's affirmation in the fourth moment not as forgiveness but as a call to discipleship (see Lk 5:1-10). Personal sin here recedes as the theme, yet we still feel our defi-ciency, now understood as internal conflict. Having accepted the call, we experience negation not primarily as sinfulness or conflict but Review for Religious as all that precludes a full response--our circumstances, self-image, sinfulness, disordered affections, and so forth. We thus speak of God's affirmation in the fifth moment as the entirety of our accep-tance (see Lk 15:31-32). 7 On the importance of bringing our desires before God, see James M. Keegan sJ, "Praying with Desire," Human Development 11:3 (Fall 1990): 35. Keegan argues that we make ourselves avail-able to God by voicing what we want and thus opening the possibility of a mutual relationship. s "Autograph Directory of St. Ignatius," in On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of I Y99, trans, and ed. Martin E. Palmer SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 7. 9 Gerald R. Grosh SJ, Quest for Sanctity: Seven Passages to Growth in Faith (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1988). ,0 This sense of sin differs from the low self-esteem that can block the retreatant from initially accepting God's love. Until retreatants, accept God's unconditional love, they cannot see them-selves as sinfully choosing to reject it. ~' As Ivens explains, "this stage of the Exercises consists not in any way of meditating on sin and repentance, but in material and a dynamic of a particular character" (p. 45). ,2 John English SJ, Spiritual Freedom (Chicago: Loyola Press, 1995), pp. 231-232. ~3 Joyce Diltz develops this metaphor at length in "The Spiritual Director as Midwife," Presence 2:1 (January 1996): 18. ~4John 14:16; 14:26; 15:26; 16:7. ~s Peter-Hans Kolvenbach sJ, "Discourse on Exercises and Co- Workers," Review of Ignatian Spirituality 33, no. 1 (2002): 28, 30, and 31-31. 37 62.1 200~ JOAN L. ROCCASALVO Ignatian Women Past and Future T graced beginnings of the Society of Jesus are ompletely known if the women who participated in its vision are left out: "one gains the impression that ¯ . . the Society owes its existence to many women.''1 This article speaks of women who participated in the early Society's apostolic work and supported its ministry; it looks at four religious institutes with an Ignatian spir-ituality and at religious-life issues in the United States; and it offers a suggestion for renewal.2 The Past: 1491-1556, 1650, 1877 In 1540 Pope Paul III officially recognized the Society of Jesus. Neither monks nor friars, the early Jesuits devoted themselves to pressing apostolic needs of the day. They undertook an itinerant ministry. In early Christianity, women participated in a peri-patetic ministry. The apostolic labors of the church fathers are copiously detailed, but recent scholarship reveals that women matched them, setting an example for other women.3 In the 16th century, lines of societal Joan L. Roccasalvo CSJ wrote for us twice in 2001. Her address is University of Scranton; Center for Eastern Christifin Studies; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. Review for Relig4ous demarcation for women were clear. Women either married or entered the cloister, and prostitution was common. The ministry of nuns was an extension of their monastic enclosure. Upper-class women ran their house-holds, enjoyed mobility and independence, and numbers of them shared in Ignatius's apostolate. After the death of Ignatius's mother soon after his birth in 1491, he was put in the care of his sister-in-law Magdalena, who provided him with a courtly education. A pious and educated aunt, Maria de Guevara, a third-order Franciscan, had established a cloister next to a hos-pital. She. fostered Ignatius's lifelong commitment to hospital ministry. While recuperating, at Loyola from a leg wound sustained at Pamplona, the young man read lives of Christ and the saints when nothing else was avail-able. Inspired by their lives, he set out to emulate them. Ignatius traveled to the celebrated Benedictine monastery at Montserrat, a place of pilgrimage to this day. There, before a statue of Our Lady of Montserrat (the Black Madonna), in keeping with the chivalric code and in pilgrim's garb, he kept an all-night vigil. On 24 March 1522 he placed his sword before the Mother of God and sang and prayed with other pilgrims.4 Ignatian Women in the 16th Century At Manresa, Ignatius the layman experienced the ulti-mate combat, the battle within. During a period of con-solation, he received five graces near the River Cardoner: mystical illuminations of the Holy Trinity, creation, the Eucharist, the incarnation, and matters of faith and learn-ing. Thereafter he was fond of speaking about all good gifts coming from above. The Spiritual Exercises embody these graces and are forever linked with them.5 Ignatius called Manresa "his primitive church" because here his world-vision was born and took shape.6 Women were the first to benefit from the Exercises.7 62.1 2003 Among those who followed him and looked after his needs were In~s Pascual, an influential widow, and Jer6nima Clavera, administrator of Santa Lucia hospi-tal for the indigent? He made the acquaintance of Isabel Roser. Writing to her fifteen years later, he says: "I am indebted to each one [of the women] and chiefly to you-- for to you I owe more than to anyone I know in this life.''9 The townspeople called Ignatius "the sack man";l° the women were known as "Ifiigas," followers of Ifiigo (his Basque name).ll An elderly woman who impressed Ignatius with her wisdom and holiness told him of her desire that one day Jesus Christ would appear to him.12 Years later Ignatius spoke of his vision, at La Storta near Rome, of the Father with his Son carrying his cross, telling Ignatius, "I want you to serve us. I will be propitious to you in Rome.''13 "If," as Garcla-Mateo notes, "one reflects that the stay in Manresa was the most decisive time in Ignatius's spiritual development, then the role of these women is very sig-nificant." 14 Though Ignatius was schooled in matters of faith, he saw the need for more education in faith and learning. From 1523 to 1538 he studied in Barcelona, Alcalfi, Salamanca, Paris, and Venice. In Barcelona, Ignatius's vision attracted women of the upper class. He instructed them in the Exercises, and they helped him minister to the poor and sick.15 Estefania de Reques6ns, Guiomar Gralla, and the gifted Isabel de Josa all revered him as an apostle.16 In Alcalfi Ignatius met some fifty women of the lower class. He shared his conversion story and gave them the Exercises. Ignatius found himself suspected of being an alumbrado, an "enlightened" one.17 Townspeople gossiped. When two Ifiigas disappeared, the gossip intensified, and he was imprisoned. Sometime later Maria de la Flor, a prostitute, made the Exercises. Desirous of retreating to the desert like St. Mary of Egypt,18 she remarked that Ignatius was Review for Religious the first man who did not regard her as an object.19 These women defended him at his trial. In Salamanca it was the same pattern: giving the Exercises, ministry, suspi-cion, interrogation, and imprisonment by inquisitors. Ignatius and his Society-in-the-making continued studies in Paris and Venice. Financial need pressed him once again to request help from ladies in Barcelona. They sent him and his companions the equivalent of "care packages," which helped sustain them during their studies.2° In Rome Ignatius created a new apostolate where women could help other women.21 For prostitutes decid-ing to reform their lives, the convent had been their only option. Yet many felt no attrac-tion to the cloister. And so in 1543 Ignatius, after receiving financial support, mostly from his loyal women friends, and with ecclesiastical backing, founded St. Martha's, a house for endangered girls. Isabel Roser, widowed and childless, took up a leadership position and lived there with two companions. Under Cardinal Carpi's patronage, they formed La Compagnia della Grazia. The car-dinal asked the Society to under-take the temporary spiritual direction of the institution.22 Other wealthy laywomen joined in the work at St. Martha's: Lucrezia de Bradine, Juana de Arag6n, Margaret of Austria, and Leonor Osorio, who took sixteen young prostitutes into her household and procured marriage dowries for them.23 The work of St. Martha's flourished and became a model for foundations in Messina, Valencia, other cities. At the end of 1543, nearly one hundred women were seeking a new life at St. Martha's)4 The townspeople called Ignatius "the sack man"; the women were known as "I£igas," followers of I£igo. 41 62. I 200~? Roccasalvo ¯ Ignatian Women Past and Future Women responded with munificence to the end of Ignatius's life. The Society's most generous donors were Faustina de' Jancolini, who bequeathed her house and lands to Ignatius,. and Donna Maria Frassoni del Gesso, who gave 70,000 gold scudi for the construction of the Jesuit church and college in Ferrara. Without their help Ignatius could not have expanded the Society's apostolate. These generous women became known as "the most lov-ing mother(s) of the Society of Jesus."25 Women Seek Admission into the Order: 1545-1552 It was only a matter of time before several apostoli-cally minded women, married or widowed, sought admis-sion into the young Society of Jesus. Their request seemed logical. Ignatius had given them the Exercises; they participated in apostolic works and had given their estates or large sums of money to the order. Now they wanted to enter the Society. They too would be engaged in an itinerant ministry--or so they thought. In 1545 Isabel Roser and her two companions asked to be admit-ted into the Society. She appealed to Paul Ill and received his permission. Ignatius then received their vows.26 A female branch of the Society was temporarily established, but, when Isabel embroiled Ignatius in family squabbles, he sought papal intervention.27 Licet debitum, promul-gated in 1549, freed the Society from any permanent responsibility for women. It reinforced the Jesuit promise of mobility and granted the general of the Society per-mission to send members "to teach theology and all. dis-ciplines 'anywhere.'''28 Still, to avoid inflexibility, Ignatius permitted his men to hear the confessions of nuns on occasion, but Jesuits were forbidden to serve as their res-ident chaplains or regular confessors. Jesuits were sometimes asked to help in the reformof convents and monasteries, a priority of the Catholic Review for Religious Reformation. Sister Teresa Rajadell, a Benedictine nun, and others sought admission into the Society because of corrupt conditions in monasteries. Of the four letters Ignatius wrote ~to Sister Teresa, the first remains a model of spiritual direction. Meanwhile other laywomen attempted to imitate Isabel Roser's initiative: Francis B0rgia's sisters-in-law Juana de Meneses Barreto and the wealthy Sebastiana Exarch, who without her husband's knowledge was ready to make a vow of obedience to her confessor after completing the Exercises. Sebastiana's letter reached Ignatius in the middle of his difficulties with Isabel Roser. The letter is significant because, in a con-versation with Jesuit Father Araoz, the bishop of Barcelona "criticized the pastoral meth-ods of the Jesuits, especially in that they gave women the Spiritual Exercises to perform 'in profound secrecy and silence' after the manner of the suspect Mumbrados." Juana de Cardona was willing to do anything to be received into the Society: i'epeat the Exercises, divest her-self of revenues, relatives, and friends, and serve in the Society by pledging herself as a pilgrim and missionary-- she would obey "even unto death.''29 The willful Jeronima Pezzani took a vow of obedi-ence to Ignatius without telling him first. With her large donations and her rule and constitutions, she planned on helping the Society set up colleges in Parma and Cremona. She and her companions hoped to transform the House of St. Martha into a convent of "Jesuitesses." 30 Ignatius's refusal to accept women into the order was not because of an enmity toward them, but because of the circumstances of the time. 62. I 2003 Roccasalvo * lgnatian Women Past and Future "It needs to be Understood," writes Garcia-Mateo, "that Ignatius's refusal to accept women into the order was not because of an enmity toward them, but because of the circumstances of the time.''31 He remained unbudgeable in all cases but one. Infanta Juana, Regent of Spain In 1555, by way of exception, Princess Juana, daugh-ter of Charles V and sister of Philip II, pressured her way into the Society through the influence of Francis Borgia. Because of internal hostility to the Society, any denial of her request might jeopardize their work in Spain. To ensure their apostolic freedom, Ignatius bowed to her wishes, but a discreet letter to her betrayed his reluc-tance. As "Marco Sfinchez," her membership was to be kept a strict secret in the Society. Juana's courtly way of life remained unchanged. Her apostolic availability was limited, but she did what was possible in her double life. As her own superior, she safeguarded and advanced Jesuit works. She took first vows as a scholastic, but never became a fully professed member of the Society. On the one hand, Juana used her power to help the Society defend itself against the attacks of some churchmen. She gave a large amount for the founding of a college at Valladolid and wrote a letter to support the foundation in Louvain. On the other hand, she caused anxiety when "murmurs began to arise in Spain, and especially in court circles, against the 'Jesuit government'., and against 'Jesuitical practices' in her 'palatial convent.'" In 1573 the anomalous lady Jesuit died, outliving Ignatius by sev-enteen years. "The experiment was never repeated," notes John O'Malley.32 Ignatian Women: Role Models for the Future The remarkable deeds of the Ifiigas prompted Ignatius to favor the establishment of a company of Review for Religious women that with missionary mobility could devote itself entirely to apostolic work.33 This vision would be realized beginning in the mid 17th century. An Ignatian institute may be distinguished in four ways: "through reliance on Ignatian texts in the formulation of their own constitu-tion, through influence by individual Jesuits, by model-ing certain works or structures on those of the Society of Jesus, and by inspiration drawn from Ignatian Christological and apostolic visions.''34 Among these groups are the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary (IBVM), the Sisters of St. Joseph(csJ/ssJ), the Society of the Sacred Heart of Jesus (RSCJ), and the Faithful Companions of Jesus (FCJ).3s A short summary about each is offered here. Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary: 17th Century In 1612 Mary Ward, a precocious woman not yet thirty years old, gained official approval from the Franciscan James Blaise, bishop of St. Omer, to form the Institute of Mary, modeled on the Society's way of life. Hearing in prayer the words "Take the same of the Society," she understood them to mean take Jesuit ideas and practices "insofar as they are applicable to women." Apostolically mobile, her sisters wore no distinctive garb. In 1629 Mary's brave vision resulted in a brief impris-onment and the suppression of the institute. Isolated Jesuits like Roger Lee and John Gerard supported her enterprise, but, because her institute resembled the Society, it encountered opposition from Jesuits them-selves and from seminary priests who resented the new institute's freedom. Though it claimed no dependence on the Jesuits,. its members were labeled "Jesuitesses" and Rogerites.36 Despite the bishop's public support, the Holy See intervened. In 1630 "Urban VIII signed the bull of sup-pression [declaring the institute] 'suppressed, extinct4,5 62.1 2003 Roccasalvo * Ignatian Women Past and Future rooted out, destroyed, and abolished.'" In 1877 the insti-tute was officially approved as the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary. It professes: "Inspired by Mary Ward's vision, we will claim more passionately and live more radically our Ignatian spirituality and share it more widely with those among whom we live and work." 37 The Sisters of St. Joseph: 17th Century In 1650 six apostolically minded women, guided by the French Jesuit Jean-Pierre Mddaille (+1669), were officially recognized as the Daughters of St. Joseph. These women ministered to others outside the cloister without religious habit, but wearing a distinctive attire-- that of the widows of Le Puy.38 Like the Jesuits, the Sisters of St. Joseph embraced a wide ministry: "ready for everything, available for all.''39 An institute parallel-ing the Society's apostolic mobility, envisioned by Ignatius, was at last established for women. The charism of the Sisters of St. Joseph is embodied in their consensus statement referring to "an Ignatian- Salesian climate.''4° Father M~daille gave the first Sisters of St. Joseph theSpiritual Exercises in the form of max-ims or proverbs, a 17th-century genre. The Exercises are their matrix and inspiration. The Maxims depend on the Exercises for their internal structure. St. Francis de Sales "lived under Jesuit direction from his school days onward, he made the Spiritual Exercises annually, and he took as his apostolic model the life and work of.St. Charles Borromeo.''41 The Introduction to the Devout Life emerges from the schema and content of the Exercises, with many passages paraphrased avec douceur from the Exercises. The Society of the Sacred Heart: 19th Century In 1800 St. Madeleine Sophie Barat (+1865) founded the Society of the Sacred Heart. Madeleine Sophie's intent was to begin a company of women parallel to the Review for Religious then suppressed Society of Jesus whose work would be to revitalize Christian life in France. Her motto was "unity and conformity to the Heart of Jesus." The constitu-tions, based on those of the Jesuits, were approved by Leo XII in .1826.42 The Society of the Sacred Heart resembled the Jes-uits, stressing the rigorous spiritual and intellectual training of its nuns. With its coherent plan of studies especially in the humanities, its interna-tional network of schools educated young women worldwide. In 1818 St. Philippine Duchesne made a foundation in the United States. In 1964 the Religious of the Sacred Heart removed their rule of cloister. ¯ In 1820 the Faithful Companions of Jesus (FCJ) were founded in Amiens, France, byMarie Madeleine de Bonnault de d'Hoiiet. Impressed by the Society of Jesus, she founded an institute bearing the Holy Name and following the Jesuit constitutions. An international con-gregation, they profess: "In the Exercises we contem-plate the life of Jesus, coming into personal contact with him and interiorizing his attitudes and values.''43 The Society of the Sacred Heart resembled the Jesuits, stressing the rigorous spiritual and intellectual training of its nuns. Catherine the Great and the Society of Jesus The suppression of the Society of Jesus (1773-1814) was affected by the three-power partition of Poland .in 1772. The papal bull of suppression was not promul-gated in the part that had come under the rule of Russia's Catherine the Great. She valued the educational work of the two hundred Jesuits living there and permitted them to teach in what was called White Russia. By the Roccasalvo ¯ Ignatian Women Past and Future time of the Society's restoration in 1814, their numbers had increased to 337.44 How women advanced the Society's apostolic mission during the suppression is a rich topic for research. Catherine was no Ignatian woman, but she kept the Society's flame burning during a dark night in its history. Issues of Religious Life Perfectae caritatis mandated that religious live more in line with the modern world. The universal call to holi-ness proclaimed anew by Lumen gentium (§§3 3, 40) urged the laity to engage in "the saving mission of the church itself." A recent document on religious life says, "If. the thii'd millennium will be the time of promotion of the laity, of associations, and of ecclesial movements, we can rightfully ask, What place will be reserved for the traditional forms of consecrated life?''45 Perfectae caritatis does not clearly differentiate reli-gious life from the lay state, as sociologist Patricia Wittberg SC reminds us.46 Lumen gentium and Perfectae caritatis declare a distinction of degree, though not of kind.47 Experience tells us that religious do belong to a distinct category, as we shall see.48 Prophetic Witness Religious life is "mainly the fruit of the free and dynamic action of the Spirit in the church; it is a charis-matic way of life" existing since the early centuries of the church. If religious life is marked by its prophetic witness, its characteristic sign is the vow of consecrated celibacy. It accepts God's gift of friendship and "is best disposed for the development of a life of prayer and con-templation." 49 Consecrated celibacy is an attitude and a fundamen-tal choice affecting a person's entire life. One's center of affectivity is Christ himself, whose love is centered Review for Religious totally on his Father. His love embraces all. So with con-secrated celibacy. No other person may substitute for Christ at the center of one's heart. Because this vow touches every aspect of one's experience, it involves "a certain affective renunciation and a solitude of the heart which form part of the cross offered [to them] by Christ.''5° Supported by community friendships, the love of consecrated chastity excludes no one. Companionship in Christ frees celibate women and men for service to others without the demands of close family ties. The world is their family. Solitude and strong friendships, contemplation and action, are dynamically balanced. Religious women and men stand as external signs of God's presence and activity in the world. In a secularized environment their prophetic witness focuses not on themselves but beyond themselves, on Christian values and ultimately on God. Religious life is the Spirit's great gift of love to the church. Particular Charisms When consecrated persons are attracted to a partic-ular vision of Christ's paschal mystery given to a founder or a small group, they will assume that same vision,s~ A charism begins with an unmerited religious experience of depth and intensity by which God singles out an individual and touches that person with an unforgettable experience of love in Which he or she is given a special vision of the Divine Majesty. The mode of receiving the charism is shaped by the person's historical and cultural conditioning as well as by his or her temperament, human gifts, and limitations, all of which Christians recognize as the effects of God's active love in history,s2 The charisms of the Benedictines, Dominicans, 62.1 2003 Franciscans, and Jesuits define who they are. Each order was founded by a person to address a specific need and mission at a specific time in the church. The Jesuits expanded their apostolic focus to include the whole world for their mission. Like the call of .Christ to his disciples, orders attract followers to their founder's way of life and to their graced activities, the attraction often preceding knowledge of the founder's name. But sooner or later the various orders must elicit each candidate's deep-down commitment. Each order, like a perfume, gives off a uniquely identifying, fragrance: A whiff of Benedictine spirituality is detected the moment you step. into the interior of an abbey church. After.weeks, a chemical reac-tion occurs between monastic life and .the human spirit. You discern the Benedictine heart notes: a blend of chant, Liturgy of the Hours, lectio divina, work in the fields. Silence and solitude are the fixatives lending constancy. Then there's the interplay with a monk's chemistry. Differences exist for those wearing the perfume as a signature. Yet you recognize the underlying Benedictine fra-grance . The nuns at an abbey in New England make a perfume from flowers in their pine forest. It's called Attar of Peace. It ¯ summons up the grounds and even the com-munity. The scent has made the place its own; spirituality can be embodied in a fra-grance, s3 Wittherg notes that today we see the opposite in practice: "The members of most congregations now have widely diverse interpretations of their community's charism, as well as varying degrees of commitment to it."s4 Let us take a closer look. Review for Religious Religious Institutes from Past to Present The Tridendne reforms of the 16th century held fast until the early 1960s. With the advent of the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965), the manner in which women lived religious life changed significantly. Today traditional religious institutes in the West either are in chaos or are dying." In the United States there are more than one hundred sixty secular institutes, a nontradi-tional form of consecrated life. Most religious vocations now come from India and East Asia. In Creating a Future for Religious Life, Wittberg remarks that the decline in vocations in the West is not "an ongoing religious crisis," but part of the life-death rhythm of creation, from which religious institutes are not exempt: "A recurring pattern of foundation, expansion, stabilization, and breakdown has developed time and again throughout history of Western Christianity, in intervals of two hundred fifty to three hundred fifty years." In the late 1960s Ladislas ~)rsy SJ anticipated Wittberg's observation: [Consecrated religious life] rejoiced in peri-ods of splendor, and it suffered the bitter expe-rience of decline--yet it never died. After each crisis it recovered and manifested signs of internal strength. It showed also a remarkable capacity to adapt to the needs of every age; it was continually enriched with new, external forms,s6 If birth-and-death is a natural pattern, why not allow communities to die a peaceful death? Because not all institutions die because of external reasons. Several met their demise because of internal causes: deconstruction of their charism, laxity and moral decadence, fashion-able spiritualities and divisiveness,s7 The aggiornamento called for by Pe. rfectae caritatis began in a grim context. By the early 1960s religious women were too removed from the modern world. After 62.1 200t Roccasalvo ¯ Ignatian Women Past and Future their daily apostolic work, sisters would return to a vir-tual enclosure where physical presence, equated with community life, took precedence over the apostolate. Detailed rules regarding the minutiae of daily life cramped their spirits. Superiors wielded power that often impeded psychological maturity and the development of talents. Even minimal contact with the outside world Was closely monitored and discouraged. This rigidity contradicted the ministry for which these institutes were founded,s8 Most communities anticipated reform and responded at once. Others moved at a slower pace or on a superfi-cial level. Some institutes were successful at rediscover-ing or revitalizing their shared vision. Today, for example, the Benedictine nuns of Today Ignatian institutes pursue their charism with varying degrees of intentionality. Regina Laudis Monastery in Bethlehem, Connecticut, report a waiting list of candidates. Other institutes minimized, ignored, or altogether uprooted their charism. There may be a good reason for this. The charisms of women's congregations sometimes seem rather eclectic, unless the group is a female counterpart of a men's group such as the Benedictines. It is difficult for a group with a hybrid charism to discern its principal charism. Some groups seem not even to have one. When we speak of the schools of spirituality, many women's religious institutes do not fall into neat categories as the men's orders do. Some groups, however, with clear identities like the Ignatian, have removed elements that uniquely identified them as a particular institute and have added other elements. Today Ignatian institutes pursue their charism with vary-ing degrees of intentionality. Review for Religious Marketing experts tell us that "tampering with an identity--a brand, a restaurant, a cola, or any other con-sumer product--can be a perilous business.''59 Religious groups with a renewed sense of identity and mission appear to be in a strong position to survive. Those that have "tampered with" or discarded their identity are in peril. The Current Situation Since the 1960s, issues such as governance, ecclesi-astical poverty, obedience, and common life have under-gone change. Let us briefly examine the present-day resonances of this statement. Governance. Out of Vatican II emerged a collegial spirit. There it applied to bishops acting in union with the bishop of Rome, but this spirit has permeated the church. In nonepiscopal groups, it is more accurately referred to as coresponsibility or shared decision making. Centralized, hierarchical groups must find a way to incor-porate the collegial spirit. In decentralized communities, superiors have been vested with less authority, and they govern less if at all. For women, the past remains an open wound, but "everyone her own pope" leads to chaos. We have not yet realized a communion ecclesiology. Economics and Poverty. Every religious institute must support itself. The plunge in finances is a cause for con-cern even though religious are tax-exempt. Diocesan structures require sisters working in them to contribute their services. The local ordinary determines what small fixed stipend will be given to those working within his diocese. The stipend, falling below the poverty line, varies from diocese to diocese.6° Major superiors have tried unsuccessfully to remedy this long-standing abuse. With larger memberships, communities could manage their budgets on contributed services. This is no longer the case. 62.1 200~ Roccasalvo * Ignatian Women Past and Future Economics and Obedience.' Flexibility to choose one's ministry has brought its own problem. Today, in a com-petitive market, unemployment among religious is a stark. reality. If a position opens up, especially one paying a full salary, it is likely to be in a nondiocesan institution far from the local community. Though superiors gladly send a sister "in obedience," they have little choice but to do so; these sisters support themselves and sisters who receive no diocesan stipend. Economics and Community Life~ The employment sit-uation mentioned above has affected the traditional understanding of community life as an essential part of religious living, and so community life is on the wane. With greater personal freedom to choose their aposto-lates, sisters work not only in' different places but also on different schedules~ Common life, yes; community under one roof, no.61 Has maintenance displaced mis-sion as a community focus? Does economics drive the maintenance? Decline has set in. Numbers are plummeting. Attitudes formed over the years have hardened. Loss of judgment has followed, and a tendency to create a make-believe world under the cover of optimism. No large corporation or small business would permit losses with-out a realistic analysis of facts. Instead of facing and dis-cussing them with intellectual and emotional honesty, most religious are in denial. They continue glorifying a way of life that is fast ebbing away. Johannes Metz notes that loyalty "not infrequently takes on the lineaments of necrophilia: of shutting one-self up in dead patterns of life and behavior, patterns perhaps that have been worn to death in the power of the Spirit.''62 Years ago small institutes were the first casu-alties, and a few merged vcith larger ones. Today larger institutes are in jeopardy. Given this trend, by 2020 a handful of religious will remain as an endangered species. Review for Religious Young people are avoiding institutes in decline. Instead they seek ecclesial groups with "fiery vision." 63 Many applaud religious women for continued ser-vice to others, and praise is richly deserved. Sisters have worked hard all their lives without seeking or receiving recognition. They have educated men and women in leadership positions and have promoted vocations to the priesthood and religious life. Their contributions to almost every walk of life are considerable. Critics, how-ever, paint a picture of confusion, blurred identity, indi-vidualism, secularity, and irrelevance. Renewal through the Spiritual Exercises Holiness of life brings its own "fiery vision"; its radi-ance attracts others to God. Today, in a wasteland of secularity, reform will not be realized from external pres-sure. Religious must vigorously pursue inner conver-sion. For four hundred and fifty years, the Spiritual Exercises have stood as an instrument of interior trans-formation. They changed the religious contours of chaotic 16th-century Europe. Today, even with com-peting syncretic aids, they continue renewing the church among lay ecclesial groups.64 Ignatian women can build up the world by living this "fiery vision" and, without dilution, handing it on to others longing for meaning in life. In this school of prayer, one intensely desires con-version of heart. This book for "exercising" brings the whole person into the cosmic Christ. It requires prayer-ful activity of the whole person: body, mind, spirit, imag-ination, memory, and the subconscious. This "retreat" of solitary prayer becomes active service of neighbor. The exercitant assumes the mind of Christ, "for Christ plays in ten thousand places, / Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his, / To the Father through the features of men's faces." 65 62.1 200~ The Exercises for a New Millennium In a post-9/1 1 world, we face a new world situation. In the past the Exercises, with their theocentric world-view that includes spiritual humanism, have attracted non-Christians as well as Christians.66 Jews and Muslims, for example, without compromising their beliefs, have benefited from them. The goal is not conversion but a more devout practice of one's faith, more attuned to global harmony.67 Discernment calls Ignatian women to regard others with love, seeking unity in all things. The Trinity and the incarnation, the two fundamen-tal dogmas of Christianity, permeate the Exercises. Our Trinitarian God, archetype of unity and diversity, "is one, good, true, and beautiful because [God] is essen-tially Love, and Love supposes the one, the other, and their unity.''6s In the incarnation God condescended to flesh to raise women and men to God. Created in God's image, all are called to the divine likeness. The Johannine Gospel impels us to live within the Trinity, who lives in all creation. Christ's humanity presses us to respect and reverence those whose beliefs differ from ours. The incarnation links us to one another in a global village. Interacting with other great religions, wherein the Spirit breathes, will advance the oneness for which Jesus prayed. Ignatian women, indeed all in the church, must be fully catholic to be fully Catholic. The Exercises for Ignatian Women Religious For Ignatian women religious at the start of this mil-lennium, more is asked of our consecrated life. Drawing its meaning from the Trinity, celibacy is to be valued and embraced as affectivity. The Trinity's inner love is the model of that love which God offers us throughout our lives. When the motive for pleasing others is love, affa-bility and good manners are assured. Circumstances call us to a lifestyle of frugality. As stewards of Mother Earth, Review for Religious we must train ourselves to think, feel, and act with greater vigilance over God's sacramental world. Envisioning a new attitude toward personal freedom, coresponsibility, and communion, ecclesiology places the Trinity at the heart of governance. These reflections do not guarantee that institutes will attract new members at once, but the future will bear fruit if we plant strong seeds now. Ignatian religious women are called to share this "fiery vision" with others--noblesse oblige. The Exercises encompass three other graces which Ignatius received at Manresa. God's cosmos is indeed "charged with the grandeur of God.''69 In the Eucharist, Christ offers himself to his Father, and he nourishes us, his Body. Our service must be actu-alized in our becoming what we have received. Neither mere activism nor pragmatic service, it is faith expressed as love.7° The Exercises embody tides quaerens intellectum, faith seek-ing underst~inding, valuing and developing our gifts. Commitment to faith and learning sharpens our sense of justice and our other sensibilities. For Ignatian women religious at the start of this millennium, more is asked of our consecrated life. The Magis from Ignatian Women Religious Reform will not necessarily guarantee the survival of our various institutes. Perfectae caritatis (§ 19) spoke of the possibility of establishing new communities, cau-tioning the need for discernment regarding their "use-fulness" and promising future. Challenging women religious to begin their own institutes, Wittberg says: Find a vision which consumes and vitalizes you, one which you are willing to die for--and to live the rest of your life for. Start the jour- 57 62.1 2003 Ro~casalvo ¯ Ignatian Women Past and Future ney. Don't wait until fifty, or twenty, or even ten people are ready to go with you . Start the journey alone, if need be, and then invite others to come along . Expect to fail ~everal times. Expect to lose your way. Learn from your mistakes and try again. That is what founders, and refounders, do. That is the cru-cifixion, the "Passover," to which they are called. The resurrection, we know by faith, will also occurfl1 A bold challenge, indeed. One leaves her institute to found another only at the prompting of the good Spirit. Still, it is well to recall that, without separation from the Benedictines, there would have been no Bernard of Clairvaux, the Cistercians, or Thomas Merton. Without separation from the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary, there would be no Mother Teresa, 'no Missionary Sisters of Charity caring for the most destitute of the dying. Women are endowed with the gift of building a cul-ture of love founded on love. How muchmore religious 'women who follow the Ignatian way! Their "fiery vision," emerging from the Exercises, sees the impossi-ble as possible--as imaginative, practical, an'd prophetic. The Spirit will lead our discerning hearts to build the future "all ablaze with God springing up everywhere.''72 Notes ' Rogelio Garcfa-Mateo, "Ignatius of Loyola and Women," Theology Digest 45, no. 1 (Spring 1998): 32.'In this article I men-tion only a few of the women who helped Ignatius. 2 I thank Fathers Ladislas ~rsy sJ and Brian O'Leary SJ, Sisters Judith Roemer, Marion Honors CSJ, and Maria Pascuzzi CSJ, and my brother for their insights and encouragement to write this article. 3 The deaconess St. Macrina (d. 380) founded the Basilian order with her brother St. Basil. They wrote the Rule for nuns and monks. She founded an orphanage for girls, ~he first of its kind. St. Olympias (d. 408), deaconess and friend of St. John Chrysostom, distributed Review for Religious her vast fortune to the poor and rallied to his defense when he was illegally deposed. This led to her own exile. 4james Brodrick SJ, St. Ignatius Loyola: The Pilgrim Years, 1491- IY38 (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Cudahy, 1956), p. 86. 5 The Autobiography of Ignatius of Loyola, trans. Joseph E O'Callaghan, ed. John C. Olin (New York: Fordham University Press, [1974] 1992), pp. 36-40. 6 Thomas M. Lucas sJ, "The Saint, the Site, and the Sacred Strategy: Ignatius, Rome, and the Urban Mission," in Saint, Site, and Sacred Strategy (Vatican City: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, 1990), p. 20. 7 Garcfa-Mateo, "Ignatius and Women," p. 29. 8 Hugo Rahner SJ, Saint Ignatius Loyola: Letters to Women, (Freiburg: Herder / London: Nelson, 1960), pp. 4-10. 9 H. Rahner, .Letters, .p. 265. '°Jos~ Ignacio Tellechea Idfgoras, Ignatius of Loyola: The Pilgrim Saint (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1994), pp. 180-181. 1, H. Rahner, Letters, pp. 10, 252. 12 Garcfa-Mateo, "Ignatius and Women," p. 29. 13 John W. O'Malley sJ, The First Jesuits (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1993), p. 34. 14 Garcia-Mateo, "Ignatius and Women," p. 29. 15 See n. 14. ,6 H. Rahner, Letters, pp. 10, 296-297. ,7 Brian O'Leary SJ, "Foundational Values in the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius," Milltown Studies (Spring 1994): 7-9. 18 H. Rahner, Letters, p. 11. Mary of Egypt is considered an icon of repentance. ,9 Tellechea, Ignatius, p. 254. 20 H. Rahner, Letters, pp. 174-176 and PLATE XII facing p. 321; 181-182, 185, 192. 2, Garcia-Mateo, "Ignatius and Women," p. 30. 22 Ludwig Pastor, The History of the Popes, Vol. 12 (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1923), p. 42. 2~ O'Malley, First Jesuits, p. 180. 24 Pastor, Popes, Vol. 12, p. 43. 2~ H. Rahner, Letters, pp. 197, 209-211; consult all of Part 3, "Begging for the Kingdom of God," pp. 169-206. Also pp. 15,199, 211, 15. 62.1 2003 Roccasalvo * Ignatian Women Past and Future .60- 26 Garcfa-Mateo, "Ignatius and Women," p. 31. 27 H. Rahner, Letters, pp. 287-290. 2s O'Malley, First Jesuits, p. 201. 29 H. Rahner, Letters, pp. 340, 331-335, 126-128, 303,310. 30 H. Rahner, Letters, 318-319, 323. 3~ Garcia-Mateo, "Ignatius and Women," p. 32. For Ignatius's responses to these women's petitions to enter the Society, see H. Rahner, Letters, pp. 260, 308, 318, 323. 32 H. Rahner, Letters, pp. 52-67, 56-59, 59, 60, 59. O'Malley, First Jesuits, p. 76. 33 H. Rahne~:, Letters, pp. 251,260. 34 Mary Milligan,. "What Is an 'Ignatian Congregation'?" Way Supplement 70 (Spring 1991): 41-50. 35 Included as well are the Religious of the Sacred Heart of Mary (RSHM), the Religious of the Cenacle (RC), the Religious of Jesus and Mary (RJM), the Society of the Holy Child Jesus (SHCJ). 36 M. Emmanuel Orchard, Till God I/Viii (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1985), p. 29, nn. 17 and 33, and pp. 49-50. Also M.P. Trauth, "Ward, Mary," New Catholic Encyclopedia. 37 Orchard, Till God Will, p. 102. William V. Bangert SJ, A History of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1972), p. 146. See . 38 M~daille Committee, "The Spirituality of Jean-Pierre M~daille" (New Orleans, 1967), pp. 2-3. 39 Tellechea, Ignatius, p. 413. ~o Constitution of the Sisters of St. Joseph (Brentwood, N.Y., 2000), p. 9. 41 Elizabeth Stopp, "Francois de Sales," in The Study of Spirituality, ed. Cheslyn Jones et al. (New York: Oxford University Press, 1986), p. 381. 42 See , p. 6. 43 See "Our Spi;'it," ._ 44J.E Broderick SJ, "Jesuits," New Catbolic Encydopedia. 45 "Starting Afresh.from Christ: A Renewed Commitment to Consecrated Life in the Third Millennium," Origins 32, no. 8 (4 July 2002), §12. 46 Patricia Wittberg SC, The Rise and Fall of Catholic Religious Orders: A Social Movement Perspective (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1994), p. 232. Review for Religious 47 In Lumen gentium a religious is "more intimately consecrated to divine service. This consecration gains in perfection since by virtue of firmer and steadier bonds, it serves as a better symbol of the unbreakable link between Christ and his spouse, the church" (§44). Perfectae caritatis states that religious follow Christ "more freely and imitate him more nearly. Hence, the more ardently they unite themselves to Christ through a self-surrender.involving their entire lives, the more vigorous becomes the .life of the church and the more abundantly her apostolate bears fruit" (§1). Emphasis added. 48 Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, Finding the Treasure (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000), p. 128. 49 Ladislas M. 0rsy sJ, Open to the Spirit (Washington-Cleveland: Corpus Books, 1968), pp. 17, 21, 25. 5o Our Jesuit Life (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1990), p. 94. s, Joseph de Guibert sJ, The Jesuits: Their Spiritual Doctrine and Practice (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1986), p. 2. 52 John C. Futrell SJ, "Discovering the Founder's Charism," Way Supplement (Autumn 1971): 63. s3 Joseph Roccasalvo, The Odor of Sanctity (USA: Xlibris, 2000), pp. 106-107. s4 Patricia Wittberg SC, Creating a Future for Religious Life (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1991), p. 138 and n. 4: "In some congre-gations, this pluralism has become so great that it is difficult to see what remains in common in any vital sense. Members have some vague sense of belonging to a group. This sense of belonging is usu-ally sustained by a vague ethos or spirit, by memories of a shared his-tory, by a sense of responsibility for the elderly members, and by personal relationships with those who are coworkers, coinhabitants, or like-minded allies. But belonging is not the same as commitment." Mary Jo Leddy, "Beyond the Liberal Model," Way Supplement 65 (Summer 1989): 46. 55 "Starting Afresh from Christ," pp. 130-147. ~6 ~rsy, Open to the Spirit, p. 13. ~7 Wittberg, Rise andFall, pp. 186-188, 41, Table 2.1, and 184ff, Table 10.1. 5s Male religious orders would not have tolerated these structures. s9 Eric Asimov, "When Makeovers Go Awry," New York Times (31 July 2002). The famous Russian Tea Room in New York City recently closed because its new owner "tampered" with its tradi-tional identity. One can only imagine the outrage of sports fans if the 61 62.1 2003 Roccasalvo ¯ Ignatian Women Past and Future New York Yankees were to tamper with their logo designed by Tiffany. 60 Before 1940, religious brothers working in the same diocese received more than twice as much as the sisters. Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 52. 61 Common life may refer to all members living under one roof or contributing to a common fund for the common good. It means that common rituals are observed as well, more easily observed in monastic than in apostolic communities. 62 Johannes Metz, Followers of Christ: The Religious Life and the Church (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1978), p. 20. 63 A phrase used by Evelyn Woodward in P~ets, Prophets, and Pragmatists (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1987), p. 51. 64 This dry manual has been published some 4,500 times over the course of four hundred years. 65 "As kingfishers catch fire" by Gerard Manley Hopkins. 66 O'Leary, "Foundational Values," pp. 5-13. 67 Ronald Modras, "The Spiritual Humanism of the Jesuits," America (4 February 1995): 10. 6s Hans Urs yon Balthasar, "A Rdsum~ of My Thought," in Hans Urs yon Balthasar: His Life and Work, ed. David L. Schindler (San Francisco: Communio Books and Ignatius Press, 1991), p. 4. 69 "God's Grandeur" by Gerard Manley Hopkins. 70 O'Leary, "Foundational Values," p. 19. 7, Patricia Wittberg SC, Pathways to Re-Creating Religious Communities (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1996), pp. 199-201. 72 Pierre Teilhard de Cha~din SJ, Letters to L~ontine Zanta (New York: Harper and Row, 1968), p. 41. Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Learning from Jesus, the Son of Man All Christians know Jesus as the Son of God, and rightly so. But he never referred to himself by that rifle, except once (according to the synoptic Gospels), when the high priest asked him before the Sanhedrin, "Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed One?" and he replied, "I am" (Mk 14:61-62). But often (eighty-one times in the Gospels) he spoke of himself as .the Son of man.1 In fact, even on the above occasion of affirming his Sonship of God, he went on to clarify.at once, "And you will see the Son of man seated at the right hand of the Power." Reclaiming Jesus as the Son of Man In expressing their faith in Jesus, the early Christians called him Lord (also my Lord, our Lord, and Lord of the universe), Emmanuel, Savior, and the like, all expressions suggestive of his divinity. But never once did they name him A. Paul Dominic SJ last wrote for us in our issue of November-December 2001. His address is c/o Missionaries of the Poor; Fatima Nagar; Warangal 506 004; India. Dominic ¯ Learningfrom ~esus, the Son of Man the Son of man, with the notable exception found on the lips of Stephen (Ac 7:56). If, thus, no primitive creedal statements contain any reference to him as the Son of man, that need not deter us from Jesus' preferred way of speaking about himself. It is intriguing, too, that, on a rare occasion when he was drawing someone to believe in him, he asked him, according to the witness of John, "Do you believe in the Son of man?" On 9:35).2 So why not look at Jesus as the Son of man and learn from him what ways mark him out as the Son of man? So far, so good. But what is or can be understood by the Aramaic terminology the Son of man? It is surely one of the most discussed questions, with almost as ma. ny opinions as there are scholars. At the same time, it is one of the most important questions, as Milan Machovec says, "in considering the person and influence of the Master from Galilee.''3 Whatever the Marxist author's reason for saying so, there is truth in what he says, if only because the favorite self-designation of Jesus was the Son of man. The Meanings of"the Son of Man" As we seek to understand what Jesus meant by "the Son of man," we should remind ourselves that as a rule he did not indulge in cliches and fads nor as a rule confuse and confound people, but communicated himself to them in transparent, if teasing and provocative, ways. Further, from the many studies made on the subject, we may throw some light on the matter. Primarily, the expression Son of man was not a title, but a modest reserved way of referring to oneself in Galilee's Aramaic idiom. So, when Jesus used the choice phrase, .he was not drawing attention to himself, much less thrusting or projecting himself proudly, but presenting himself humbly.4 A much older use of the phrase, carried over from the Old to the New Testament, was simply as a synonym of Review for Religious "man" or "human being," without any special emphasis (Ps 80:17). Depending on the context, however, there could be an emphasis laid on human nature as nobler than subhuman, on the one hand (compare Dn 7:3-7 and 17-26 with 7:13), or of course as infinitely lower than the divine, on the other (Ez 2:1). Another element of emphasis could be that the speaker conceived of himself (I guess the expression was used only by men) not apart from but part of humanity. Far from being a stranger to humanity, he was part and parcel of it, owning himself a member of all humanity. Its usage was obviously comparable to that of the other expression "sons of the world" (Lk 16:8),5 which meant, of course, belonging to the world. Similarly, therefore, "the son of man." meant one who belonged to the world of humans. Jesus' Characterization as the Son of Man All this made sense in relation to the person of Jesus, as already mentioned. So, when he characterized himself as the Son of man, he was not passing himself off as something higher than others. Whatever else he was, he was still a man, pure and simple, and so like any other human being, as the early Christians believed (Ph 2:7). Besides all this, Jesus could have had something more in mindl He was not just resigned to, or even simply content with, his human status. He was appreciative of, and even intent on, something greater in the experience of being human. Keeping in mind the Gospels' emphasis on Jesus' use of the term "Son of man" and on the dignity of the individual human ("man as man") and of all humanity, Albert Nolan submits "that Jesus' frequent and emphatic use of the term 'Son of man' was his way of referring to, and identifying himself with, man as man.''6 Here is a nuanced insight that could be missed. Unlike others, Jesus used the term "Son of man" not by way of 62.1 2003 Dominic ¯ Learning from Jesus, the Son of Man Jesus used the term "Son of man" not by way of habit, but with a conscious intent. habit, but with a conscious intent. It was a way of expressing his vision of humanity, experienced in himself in solidarity with others. Whatever else he claimed to be, it was not apart from being a "son of man" among the likes of him. In other words, being a man, he could not but assodate himself with every social segment, making no discrimination whatever among human beings based on sex or status or religious sanction or what have you. What were the implications of this identification that Jesus made with others in the bosom of his religious tradition? Unlike the others, he not only inherited this religious outlook handed down by the ancients, but he consciously incorporated it and indeed incarnated it. He knew that being human, denoted by the term "son of man," embraced two opposite experiences. On the one hand, "son of man" implied and connoted that human life is short-lived like the grass (Is 51:12) or, like the worm, lowly and vulnerable (Jb 25:6). The " phrase "Son of man" showed that before God human stature cannot be anything but small (Ps 11:4). It showed that human creatures as such are mortal, terribly mortal (Ps 90:3, Ez 2:1), and thus no more significant than a dying breath or fleeting shadow (Ps 144:4). It emphasized that every human being is caught up in sin (Ps 14:2-3). On the other hand, besides and beyond all this, there was a transcendent sense to the religious term "son of man." It suggested and revealed that every "son of man" is an object of Providence (PS 107:8), something for divine wisdom to find delight in (Pr 8:31)," a crown of creation by divine plan, and even a partner with God (Ps 8:5-8). Before God, then, every Review for Religious human person is both nothing and, strangely enough, all blessing. It was with this manifold tensive human reality that Jesus identified himself. He was at home with this holistic vision of humanity; his lifetime was of a piece with it. Becoming Like the Son of Man Being the Son of man, and preeminently that, Jesus wanted others, too, to claim and share the same privilege that God envisioned for humanity. In this light some of his sayings lend themselves to a new interpretation. "Thus," Nolan remarks, "to say that 'the son of man is master even of the sabbath' is to say that 'the sabbath was made for man and not man for the sabbath' (Mk 2:27-28). To say that 'the son of man has power on earth to forgive sins' is to praise 'God for giving such power to men' (Mr 9:6, 8). To say that 'the foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests but the son of man has nowhere to lay his head' could mean that, whereas the Herods (foxes) and the Romans (birds) have a place in the present society, man as man has no place yet."7 Such an outlook offers the inspiration for all humans to attain the true glory destined for them by God, despite their own acute sense of infdriority and insignificance. It echoes in practical terms what the mystical psalmist joyously discerned: "When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in.place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him? You have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor. You made him ruler over the works of your hands; you put everything under his feet" (Ps 8:3-8, N1V). Even though Jesus, believing this and acting on it, realized its truth in his life and invited others to do the same, people hesitate to conceive of themselves in this light. It is to such people that a sacred author quotes the67 62. I 2003 Dominic ¯ Learning from Jesus, the Son of Man above psalm and makes this assuring comment: "Now in subjecting all things to them God left nothing outside their control. As it is, we do not yet see everything in subjection to them; but we do see Jesus, who for a little while was made lower than the angels, now crowned with glory and honor" (Heb 2:8-9). Let there be no mistake. The glorification of Jesus was not because of any angelic or royal nature he enjoyed, but because of his pure, radical human status in and through which, of course, his Abba God was at work. It was through becoming the lowly son of man, clothed in flesh, frailty, and fragility, that he became the glorious Son of man, thanks to his Abba God. Stephen was the first one in the biblical record to contemplate Jesus in this fashion. It was in this spirit, too, that the early Christians sang that, on the one hand, Jesus was "made in human likeness and [so] in his appearance found as a man" (Ph 2:7, CCB) and that, on the other hand, he was exalted in glory and given a name at which every knee must bend. rvVhat does. this all mean for us human beings, in whose image the Son appeared, though at the end he was seen in God's image? Are we not to follow, keeping our eyes on him who is the pioneer and perfecter, of our faith leading to glory (Heb 12:2)? And yet we hesitate to think of ourselves in these elevating terms, despite God's having predestined us all to be conformed to the image of his Son (Rm 8:29-30). The Way of Being Human Those of us who hesitate--and that is 99.9 percent of us--must face the truth, namely, that we hunger for honor and glory, but are not willing or concerned to be honored and glorified by the One from whom comes everything we have or could have. We have an all-tooo human tendency to seek the approval of others (Jn 5:44) or, what is worse, to smugly compare ourselves favorably Review for Religious with others. When we do not succeed in such maneuvers, we lament like the regretful psalmist: "Lord, let me know my end, and what is the measure of my days . You have made my days a few ha.ndbreadths, and my lifetime is .as nothing in your sight. Surely everyone stands as a breath. Surely everyone goes like a shadow .For I am your passing quest, an alien, like all my forebears. Turn your gaze away from me, that I may smile again, before I depart and am no more" (Ps 39:4-6 and 12-13). Or we resort to the opposite tactic, aggressiveness. We cover up our nothingness and by hook or crook seek to become a power to reckon with. When such efforts succeed, the social and political world is negatively affected, witness the stories of conquerors and empires. Such conquerors tend to show humanity at its worst. As pictured in the Book of Daniel, they are beasts that inflict violence on others and, inescapably, on themselves. They are the opposite of the "one like a son of man" who in the very presence of God receives divine fellowship, honor, and glory not only for himself but for everyone like himself (Dn 7:1-14). How true this is of Christ! Surely he is, as a pastoral commentary says, "the perfect human, and he bears the destiny of humanity," 8 and so in his glory will draw all to himself On 12:32). This will happen in growing measure as we become more like him, the Son of man, shedding increasingly our alien beasdy nature and becoming more It was through becoming the lowly son of man, clothed in flesh, frailty, and fragility, that he became the glorious Son of man, thanks to his Abba God. 62.1 2003 Dominic. ¯ Learning from Jesus, the Son of Man and more what we are and what we are meant to be, namely human. What Kahlil Gibran said of him rings true: "He came to send forth upon this earth a new spirit, with power to crumble the foundation of any monarchy built upon human bones and skulls . He came to demolish the majestic palaces, constructed upon the graves of the weak, and crush the idols, erected upon the bodies of the poor. He came to make the human heart a temple, and the soul an altar, and the mind a priest.''9 Peter could invite all Christians to Christ with these words: "Come to him, a living stone, though rejected by mortals yet chosen and precious in God's sight, and, like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood" (1 P 2:4-5). Doing this increasingly in our world, we will become the embodiment of Daniel's vision of the son of man, in union with Christ, the Son of man. To grow to the measure of his full stature--that is the call for Christians as individuals and as a community (Ep 4:13). 70 Notes t See the note on Mk 8:31 in The NIVStudy Bible, p. 1510. Unless 6therwise indicated, all biblical citations are from NRSV. 2 It is worthy of note that, though some ancient versions have "Son of God," the modern translations, such as N~$V and N'JB, have preferred the adoption of "Son of man," following other ancient" authorities. 3 Milan Machovec, .4 Marxist Looks at ]esus (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1976), p. 120. 4 Many would seem to agree on this point. For this and related points, see the short survey of opinions in The New ]erome Biblical Commentary, ed. R. E. Brown et al. (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1991), nn. 78:38-41, pp. 1324-1325. 5 If this is true, I wonder why it does not seem to receive mentibn among the scholars. 6 Albert Nolan, ~esus before Christianity (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1977), p. 119. Review for Religious 7 Nolan, Jesus before Christianity, p. 119. 8 See the explanation on Mk 8:27 in Christian Community Bible (Quezon City: Claretian Publications, 1990), p. 89. 9 Kahlil Gibran, Secrets of the Heart (New Delhi: UBSPD, 1943), p. 56. The Rendezvous On this red and rainwashed morning a cottonwool wispy cloud hangs over the hill as if to kiss the earth beside the waterfall and say: "I came to meet you here." On the driveway, as I walk, a cottontailed jackrabbit ventures close, so close that I can see the color of his eyes and catch his smile for me. He says: "I came to meet you here." At the gate, an oversized robinredbreast red as the freshened desert earth writes my name across the path in a twirl of song, as if to say: "I came to meet you here." In my heart I know that as I walk the morn the Risen One reiterates: "I came to meet you here." Mary T. O'Brien PBVM 7I 62.1 2003 DENNIS J. BILLY Perseverance: The Courage to Persist ~t~ T et us not grow weary of doing good; if we do not relax our efforts, in due time we shall reap our harvest" (Ga 6:9).1 These words of St. Paul show the importance of following Christ to the end, even in try-ing and difficult times. Perseverance, as we normally call it, is "to persist long in some undertaking until it is accomplished."2 All Christians are called to persevere in their vocations. For religious, this undertaking concerns Christian discipleship lived in a community dedicated to the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedi-ence. This should be their one, consuming lifetime pro-je

Issue 61.4 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; Identities Spirituality Community Living \ Profiling JULY AUGUST 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 4 Review for Rellgious hdp people respond aria bkfa thful ~ ° ~ to God's ~niversal call to holiness ~ by making available to t~em the ~piH~l legades that flow~om the'charisms of CathoUdeOnsecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone:314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ \Veh site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See iuside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2002 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to COl)}, any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distrihu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Adv#ory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ JULY AUGUST 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 4 contents 342 feature Reciprocal Identities: Apostolic Life and Consecrated Life Patricia Wittberg sc oudines the role apostolic institutions had in shaping the identity of religious congregations in the past and describes the role of a person who would be responsible for catalyzing a congregation's reformulation of its apostolic identity in the absence of these institutions today. 352 364 spirituality Diocesan Priesthood: Discerning the Fire in Our Midst George Aschenbrenner SJ describes four steps that are part of a discerning life and three dimensions of the human stage on which the drama of a personal love-relationship with God is played. Desert Spirituality Ernest E. Larkin OCarm examines the ancient traditions of desert spirituality and contemplative prayer and proposes ways to adapt them to our times. for l~eligious 375 community living Three Forms of Community Living: A Survey Report Barbara Zajac makes a sociological survey of sisters in one religious community to explore how they define and create "community." 395 Expert Practitioners of Union: Forming, Living, and Sustaining Community Joel Giallanza CSC reviews the complexities involved in defining or describing religious community and suggests strategies to form and live and sustain community. 407 profiling Merton and the Enneagram: The Ritual Enactment of His Myth Suzanne Zuercher OSB examines Thomas Merton from his journals, considering him as an enneagram 4, his true self more acknowledged over the years, then anguished over, and ultimately embraced. 419 Liberal or Conservative: Temperaments and Faith Edward Krasevac OP proposes that awareness of temperamental affinities for liberal/conservative positions can give us a greater and sometimes much-needed sensitivity to what others are saying and give us at least a partial understanding of why we b~lieve what we believe. departments 340 Prisms 430 Canonical Counsel: Involuntary Departure 435 Book Reviews j~uly-Aug~tst 2002 prisms ~hen we say "We had an extraordinary time," for example, at a family reunion or at a church conference, we imply that the event was better than usual. The ordinary, by contrast, seems to be of negligible value. Ordinary means normal, hav-ing the implications of the usual routine. Often when we say that our time has been ordinary we signify that it has been just "more of the same." When the church makes use of the phrase ordi-nary time to describe a part of the liturgical year, we tend to .bring our everyday meaning to the phrase. We think of the routine of following one of the synoptic Gospel readings in weekday and in Sunday Eucharists. Church ordinary time seems not to emphasize cele-bration, just "more of the same." The church, how-ever, intends only to identify this part of the liturgical year as those weeks of the year proceeding in a long, numerical order (deriving from the Latin ordo) that are distinct from the holyday or holiday weeks iden-tified as Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Easter. And so there are some thirty weeks, liturgically, of "ordinary time" in every church year. But beyond the fact that ordinary time provides us with weeks in a numbered order, I believe that the church in her liturgy plants the seed that ordinary time is meant to be a time of wisdom. Wisdom might be described as "putting it all together," living an integrated life. For us Christians, wisdom means that we put our life together in the light of our being followers of Christ. The scrip-ture readings that flow through the Sunday and weekday read-ings for Mass and for the Liturgy of the Hours are both an inspiration for and a measurement of our living and acting as children of God. Jesus, as we see him living everyday life in the Gospels of ordinary time, remains the paradigm of what it means to be a human being, one created in the image and likeness of God. Being true God and true man, Jesus shares with us, through the Spirit, how to live our lives wisely in our own every-dayness as sons and daughters of God. We are baptized in Jesus' name; we are fed with his Body and Blood. The Son of God, Jesus, incarnate God--infinitely beyond Adam and Eve's mere creation in the image and like-ness of God--is our Brother. With him, we Christians experi-ence the new creation in his life, death, and resurrection. What our Scriptures in the church's ordinary time impress upon us is that we do not turn to the Gospels just for the high points of suffering or triumph or just for some code of rules. The Gospels are written to enter us into Jesus' wisdom way of living. Like St. Paul, we spend our lives trying to make it ever more true that "I live, now not I, but Christ lives in me." The church presents us ordinary Christians with a chal-lenging paradox. Ordinary time is wisdom time. Because we are being formed daily by the word of God and nourished by daily bread, we dare to say with Jesus: "Our Father." David L. Fleming SJ July-August 2002 feature PATRICIA WITTBERG Reciprocal Identities: Apostolic Life and Consecrated Life This year my congregation is celebrating its 150th anniversary. In special symposia and lectures, in liturgies and panel presentations, we have been encouraged to reflect about who ,we are as a community, who we have been--and who we will be. Since I have been researching relationship between religious congregations and their sponsored ministries, these events have spurred me to reflect on what it has meant--and what it will mean--that we are an apostolic congregation. I have, however, found it unexpectedly difficult to do this. How does our charism differ from that of an active monastic or evangelical order? In what way do our apostolates define who we are as a community, especially since very few of us still minister in the schools and hospitals we traditionally staffed? These are important questions to ask--and to continue asking--as we rearticulate our apostolic identity for the coming century. But I ,have come to believe that we lack an importfint kind of resource person who could facilitate our reflections. To the best Patricia Wittberg SC last wrote for us in September-October 2000. Her address is 2141 Dugan Drive; Indianapolis, Indiana 46260. Review for Religious of my knowledge, no religious congregation makes provision for such a person in its reflection processes. There is not even a name for her, so I will call her--however awkwardly--an Apostolic-Identity Catalyzer, or AIC for short2 In this paper I will first attempt to oudine the role apostolic institutions had in shaping the identity of religious congregations in the past. Next I will describe the kinds of activities an AIC might undertake to catalyze a congregation's reformulation of its apostolic identity in the absence of these institutions. Who We Were: Shaping a Reciprocal Identity Throughout their history, apostolic religious congregations have developed in an intimate dialectic with the institutions they created, staffed, and administered. On the one hand, Catholic hospitals, schools, and social-work agencies derived their religious identity primarily from the presence of religious congregations. Religious nurses, teachers, and social workers, all fully habited, served as living icons of the spiritual character of these institutions. As owners they also made the key decisions and policies. Their presence on the staff and in the administration meant that the culture of the congregation infused the entire institution. Without pointing to the congregation's presence, it would have been hard for a school or hospital to articulate what made it Catholic. Until the mid 1960s, however, the two were so intertwined that the question never even arose. In a similar manner, religious congregations derived their apostolic identity from the institutions they staffed. As Margaret Susan Thompson has pointed out in a previous issue of this journal,2 most U.S. women's apostolic congregations did not have a distinctive initial charism: rather, they have a "deep story" developed through years of lived experience. The distinctive identity of my own congregation was forged as sisters worked and lived together in our hospitals in Dayton and Albuquerque, Religious congregations derived their apostolic identity from the institutions they staffed. Wittber~ ¯ Reci~n'ocal Identities as they made bulletin boards together for our elementary schools in Detroit and Chicago, and as they cared for children in inner-city settlement houses and orphanages in Denver and Cincinnati. Young women got to know us through our ministries, and those attracted by our witness in these apostolates joined us. The congregation filled with new entrants who came expecting to perform institutional service, which further tied our apostolic identity to these works. Without citing the particular places where we served, it would have been difficult for many of us to articulate exactly what being an "apostolic" community meant. A Parallel: Mission-Effectiveness Offices in Catholic Institutions Most religious communities today have loosened, and some have completely severed, their ties with their institutions. Within their hospitals, colleges, and other agencies, this has led to some serious institutional soul-searching. Bereft of the iconic presence of the religious order, these institutions were in danger of losing their distinctive religious character. "Isomorphic" pressures from government regulations, professional associations, and economic competitors threatened to make them indistinguishable from other private schools or hospitals) The leaders of these organizations realized that retaining a distinct religious identity in the face of such pressures would require a deliberate effort. An institutional religious identity could not simply depend on the private spirituality the individual workers might bring to their jobs. Such spirituality was likely to remain private to each individual, since there are strong American cultural norms against sharing one's spirituality in the workplace. A school's, a hospital's, or a social agency's institutional religious identity had to be developed and shared in a way that would be transformative: grounding the daily operations of each department, underlying the administrative decisions, and spurring an ongoing, institution-wide search for new and creative ways to be a Catholic (or Jesuit or Vincentian) organization. Many religious hospitals, colleges, and other institutions, therefore, created special mission-effectiveness positions to address these goals. The person filling this role--often the last remaining member of the sponsoring congregation still in full- Review for Religious time ministry there--has typically been responsible for activities such as the following: ¯ orienting new staff and administrators to the charism or ethos of the sponsoring religious community (Jesuit scholarship, Vincentian caring, the spirit of Mercy); ¯ organizing periodic retreats and seminars for long-standing staff and administrators, in order to keep the spirit of the founding congregation fresh and alive; ¯ conducting various spiritual "leaven" activities: leading daily prayers over the public address system, organizing liturgies, providing short reflective prayers before meetings, disseminating newsletters or daily bulletins, erecting and maintaining religious iconography, and so forth; ¯ creating psychic and physical spaces where staff and administrators feel encouraged to share their spiritual journeys; ¯ estab-lishing awards for staff and administrators who most typify the founding spirit, and publicizing the winners of these awards; ¯ writing, updating, and promulgating the mission statement; ¯ raising ~ssues of mission and ethics at meetings of the board of trustees and other instances when key decisions are made; ¯ acting .as liaison with the sponsoring congregation, to help define what the implications of congregational sponsorship are for the institunon; ¯ serving as the religious-identity spokesperson to the media, overseeing public relations activities connected to the institution's religious identity. This is the ideal, of course. Many mission-effectiveness directors are marginalized, lacking any real input into the organization's decision making. A recent study found that "even in colleges that maintain the vice-presidential rank for the mission-effectiveness officer, there is no guarantee that the position will enjoy institutional prominence . Frequently the position operates on the .periphery of the college, resulting in compartmentalization rather than integration of mission concerns into daily senior-level academic or administrative decision making.''4 Mission statements may be mere words, Many mission-effectiveness directors are marginalized, lacking any real input into the organization's decision making. July-August 2002 PVi~tberg * Reciprocal Identities uncoupled from and alongside the day-to-day running of the institution. But at least the concept of mission effectiveness exists in our institutions, and we can readily articulate the kinds of activities such a position would involve. Apostolic-Identity Catalyzer: An Unknown (but Necessary) Role The same is not true for the position which I have termed the Apostolic-Identity Catalyzer. In fact, the apostolic congregations I know of do not have such a person. But, if mission-effectiveness offices are important for maintaining the religious identity of a school or hospital in the absence of its founding religious congregation, an apostolic-identity office should be equally important in helping maintain the apostolic identity of a religious congregation that is uncoupled from its institutions. In this section I will try to explain why I believe this to be so. When apostolic religious congregations withdrew from their institutions, they lost a key component of their former identity. Monastic and evangelical congregations, which had been inappropriately conformed to the apostolic model in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, could--and often did--simply revert to their original identities. But, to the extent that apostolic congregations had drawn their identity from their specific institutional works, they have had to devise a new articulation of who they are as a group and why they exist. "Isomorphic" pressures have also influenced this process. These pressures do not come from government regulations, professional standards, or economic pressures dictating what kind of identity an apostolic congregation should assume. Rather, they come from the ideals or "templates" current in the church and in society, which presume a primarily spiritual basis for the identity of religious groups. These spiritual foci commonly fill the void left by the loss of a congregation's institutional apostolate. Some apostolic communities have thus become more like small Christian communities, faith-sharing groups, or even parishes. The members minister in various locations and professions, pray privately every day, and meet regularly as a group for shared prayer and/or socializing: Other congregations Review for Religious have formed intentional communities that more closely approximate the monastic model: the members live and pray communally, but leave for separate ministries during the day. In either case, the conKregation begins to draw its identity more and more from the common spiritual activities of its members, and less and less from any common apostolic character. New entrants are attracted by the spirituality of the congregation, not by its distinctive common apostolates --which no longer exist. The metamorphosis continues. If apostolic religious life is to retain its distinctive identity, apostolic congregations must take deliberate steps to foster it. As with the religious identity of our former institutions, this will not happen automatically. Nor can we assume that our congregation is apostolic simply because we, as individual religious, give witness to God's love in our individual apostolates. (Surely all Christians are called to do that!) A congregation's apostolic identity must be transformative of the entire congregation, grounding the daily operations within the motherhouse, provincialates, and local houses, und.erlying the decisions of the council or leadership team, and spurring the community on its search for new and creative ways to be an apostolic congregation. This is where an apostolic-identity office would be useful. Since I know of no congregation that provides for such a role, the following list of suggested tasks is deliberately modeled on the activities which mission-effectiveness offices perform in our sponsored institutions. Within a given congregation, therefore, the AIC might be responsible for some or all of the following tasks: ¯ Orienting new members to the apostolic tradition of the congregation, as part of the formation program. This might include workshops or presentations, along with arranging visits to the former institutions and interviews with retired sisters who used to work there. ¯ Organizing periodic retreats and seminars for the professed and associate members of the congregation on the way(s) the congregation currently expresses its apostolic identity. This might include facilitating volunteer opportunities (whether single days throughout the year or six-week summer experiences) at some sites. Or theologians might be invited to community gatherings to discuss the various theologies of the interaction July-Augt*st 2002 Wittberg * Reciprocal Identities between spirituality and the apostolate. Or the clients served may be invited to give input on how they see the apostolic witness of the congregation and how it can be improved. ¯ Conducting various apostolic "leaven" activities within the congregation: circulating specially written prayers for specific apostolates and/or designating specific days of prayer for them; writing feature articles on the apostolates in the congregation's newsletter and/or disseminating a special newsletter on the apostolates; organizing the collection of money and goods; erecting and maintaining displays of apostolic artifacts at the motherhouse and elsewhere; initiating letter-writing campaigns to elected officials on apostolic issues; and so forth. ¯ Creating psychic and physical spaces where members are encouraged to share the insights, joys, and sorrows they have derived from their apostolates. The Daughters of Charity, with whom I currendy live, have a special monthly apostolic reflection wherein each member of the local house shares some incident from her ministry through which God has spoken to her that day. In a local house of another congregation where I once lived, we spent an afternoon and evening visiting each sister's work-place so that we could have a mental picture of the setting in which she spent a good part of her day. ¯ Establishing awards or other forms of recognition for individual members whose apostolic works witness to the character of the congregation, and publicizing these awards in the congregation and in the surrounding neighborhood or town or city. ¯ Leading reflections and other activities on the apostolic aspects of the congregation's mission statement (or facilitating the composition of such a statement if one does not currently exist). ¯ Raising issues of the congregation's apostolic identity at council meetings (which implies that the AIC is a member of the council). ¯ Initiating a congregational reflection to define exactly what the "sponsor" relationship requires of the congregation. As at least one critic has pointed out, the duties and obligations of sponsorship are often specified for the sponsored institution, but rarely are similar duties and obligations spelled out for the sponsoring congregation,s The MC might encourage meetings of both the leadership and the membership to outline the responsibilities the congregation has toward its institutions. Once these are determined, the AIC might be the one to see that they are met. Review for Religious ¯ Serving as a liaison with the various sponsored ministries. If the congregation has a separate board of sponsored ministries, then the AIC should be a member of it (and perhaps chair it). ¯ Serving as the apostolic-identity spokespdrson for the congregation to the media, overseeing public-relations activities connected with the congregation's apostolic identity. Again, this is an idealized picture. As with the mission-effectiveness offices in our former institutions, the activities of the apostolic-identity office may be marginalized in a given religious community. Many religious are so heavily involved in their ministries that they may resist invitations to set aside time to do this kind of communal apostolic sharing. Others may wish to forget about their jobs--especially if they find them draining and exhausting--and focus on more spiritual and recreational matters during the congregation's brief time together. Still others, formed in the days of common ministry within large institutions, may not - feel the need to discuss how apostolate is related to religious life today. And, since an apostolic-identity office is such a novel concept, many may not see why one is needed at all. Surely our congregation is already top-heavy with leadership? Why do we need to release another member from active ministry to do this? Perhaps the demise of the apostolic form of religious life is inevitable. Large hospitals, colleges, and other institutions may have become so bureaucratized and professionalized that they can no longer credibly represent a corporate Catholic vision of education, healthcare, or social service (although, of course, individual teachers or nurses--lay and religious--may still bring their private spiritualities to their jobs in these institutions). Fast-paced American culture, steeped in workaholism, may make it difficult to stop and be reflective about the work we do. There Many religious are so heavily involved in their ministries that they may resist invitations to set aside time to do this kind of communal apostolic sharing. Ju~-dugu¢ 2002 Wittberg * Reciprocal Identities may be a greater need for religious life forms focused on community and spirituality than on work--especially work in large institutions. Certainly monastic and contemplative religious communities are showing stronger growth than most apostolic ones.6 Religious life may thrive in monastic, evangelical, or future undreamed-of forms, even if its apostolic version becomes extinct. Perhaps an AIC would be a useless relic of a time already past. Or perhaps not. Perhaps what the world most needs is the witness of a group whose common vision for a transformative spiritual identity permeates the offices, factories, and marketplaces where its members work. Perhaps the reciprocal dialectic of religious community and sponsored ministry, each forming and transforming the other, is a longed-for alternative to the prevailing, "Enronized" corporate culture. Perhaps apostolic religious congregations possess the seed of a new corporate ministerial presence in the world, over and above the scattered individual ministries of their members. If so, then this vision, this dialectic, this presence, must be fostered and nurtured to growth. An AIC would have her job cut out for her. Notes i This is a terribly unattractive name, of course, but I am unable to think of any other. If this article persuades any congregation to establish the office of apostolic-identity catalyzer, they might consider naming it after a founding member who exemplified the apostolic dedication the congregation wishes to foster. 2 Margaret Susan Thompson, "Charism or Deep Story? Towards Understanding Better the 19th-Century Origins of American Women's Congregations," Review for Religious 58, no. 3 (May-June, 1999): 230-250. 3 According to sociologists studying organizations, "isomorphism" refers to the many pressures, both external and internal, which lead them to adopt similar practices. External pressures would include government regulations, professional accreditation standards, and the demands of customers/clients. Internal pressures would include ways of thinking that administrators develop from all of them being trained in the same schools, clinging to established practices in times of uncertainty, and needing to project an image of competence. See Walter W. Powell and Paul J. DiMaggio, eds., The New Institutionalfim in Organizational Analysis (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991). 4 Dennis H. Holtschneider CM and Melanie M. Morey, "Relationship Review for Religious Revisited: Changing Relations between U.S. Catholic Colleges and Universities and Founding Religious Congregations," Occasional Paper No. 47, Association of Governing Boards of Universities and Colleges. s Melanie M. Morey, Leadership and Legacy: ls There a Future for the Past? A Study of Eight Colleges Founded by Catholic VVomen's Religious Congregations, dissertation, School of Education, Harvard University, 1995, p. 203. 6 "Monasteries Enjoy Boom, with Some Help from Marketing," Religion Watch 17, no. 6 (April 2002): 2-3. Promissory In early March buds begin to swell on my peach tree. It is too soon. This uncertain month delivers snow and fro~t with its warm, sweet winds. But there they are, small, swelling promises of succulent fruit, nature's resurrective fiat silently shouting down my wintery worry with summer's certainty. Bonnie Thurston July-Aug~tst 2002 GEORGE ASCHENBRENNER Diocesan Priesthood: Discerning the Fire in Our Midst spirituality These are not easy days for the diocesan priesthood. Sexually inappropriate behavior has been making rousing--and saddening--copy in newspapers and magazines. This behavior can be, must be, viewed from a number of different perspectives. I mention just a few: the horrendous injustice and injury done to the victims; the sickness, often, of the perpetrator himself; the lack of honest dealing with sexual urges; the unjust accusation of some priests; the betrayal and undermining of the trust of many members of the church; and the faithful, generous service of many unheralded diocesan priests. I do not deny the seriousness of the present situation, nor am I insensitive to the many serious repercussions of the publicity. We all have much to learn from this difficult time for the diocesan priesthood. Seminary formation programs--indeed each individual priest--must honestly and carefully look at both sexual orientation and the swirling interior cauldron of sexual impulse, fantasy, and urge. Sexuality George Aschenbrenner SJ was cofounder of the Institute for Priestly Fbrmation at Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska, and.is director of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth; P.O. Box 223; Wernersville, Pennsylvania 19565. Review for Religious is only one aspect, but always an important one, of the discerning presence 6f the diocesan priest in the midst of a local people. This article is not about the sexual aspect of discernment, but implications for that area of human experience will be easily recognized. I focus on a central constituent of diocesan priesthood, namely, the priest's discerning presence in the midst of a local people. (In a recent book I develop this and other charisms that are needed in diocesan priesthood.)! The desires and needs of his people seek, from the diocesan priest, discernment, the art of holiness, but these desires and needs may not be easily detected. Holiness, in itself, does not seem something most people are daily concerned with. But reflection may suggest otherwise. Though often thought of or spoken of in other words and with a deceptive indirectness, the longing of the human heart for more--for something beyond what we have and appreciate, beyond our present knowing--stirs in all of us from time to time, especially in quiet moments. If we sometimes find this longing in ourselves, we must assume it in others as well. And, when the glow has faded from life and still we cannot say or put into words what we are missing, we and others may recognize that this longing for more is really a desire for an ever greater goodness, for holiness, in fact a desire for God. The ordinary people of a parish feel this in many ways, but may seldom try to express it. They desire holiness, a relationship that gets them out of the narrow confines of their own self. They seek greater meaning, more happiness, and greater love in the humdrum of ordinary living. Other people in the parish are more explicit and direct. They want to pray better; they want to know God's love more; they want their faith to be more alive. Though some may have a counselor or friend with whom they speak of these concerns, the principal person to whom people bring such stirrings and longings is their diocesan priest. They look to him for help, for answers, for the solution to their dissatisfaction. But what can the priest do? What answers does he have? He is presumed to have the graced art of daily growth in holiness. This is precisely what we mean by discernment of spirits. It is a very human process, God's subtle inspiration enlightening us to interpret, make sense of, the fire of God's awesome love present in the ordinary daily experience of us all. In various ways the human psyche is always encountering our Ascbenlrrenner * Diocesan Priestbood loving God. And these experiences are indeed profoundly human, and yet so much more. In faith they are experiences of a love promising a joy that alone can satisfy our longings, to some real extent here and now, but fully only on the other side of death. This discerning art of holiness is not a catalogue of answers to be learned and then distributed on request. Rather, it is a life to be lived in the uniquely personal part of our hearts, and yet with extroverting implication for all our human brothers and sisters and for our union with them in the transformation of our whole expanding universe. This article, then, is not a minicourse on discernment, nor is it a review of the answers a priest will need for all the people's questions. Rather, I want to present something of what is involved in a priest's discerning understanding, in his radiating the fire of the Holy Spirit for the people of his parish. I will describe four steps that are part of a discerning life and then three dimensions of the human stage on which the drama of a personal love-relationship with God is played. As a spiritual leader in the midst of the parish, the priest must have a reflective understanding of the art of discernment, seen as the dynamics of any mature faith life. This charism prepares the priest to play two important roles of service among the people: as a guide into the mystery of God's fire of love and as a soul doctor for those being healed and purified in that same fire. Discernment: God's Story of Mature Faith Growth Holiness and growth in union with God always involve the full human person alive in his or her concrete circumstances. A person's spiritual maturity, then, involves good actions, but also much more. It involves feeling and emotion, but also much more. Together with concern for actions and feelings, spiritual maturity must go down into a person's inner core. It is from this core that God's love should radiate into holy action and feeling so that people can readily become aware of God's love in the world. This radiation is an invitation to notice and welcome God's love in every situation. Discernment of spirits means achieving such recognition. Sometimes discernment is mistakenly seen as one of any number of approaches to mature spiritual development. Indeed, Review for Religious some schools of faith growth have their own terminology. Under these different articulations, however, is one fundamental process of growth toward mature faith, a sorting of inner experiences. For this reason, discernment of spirits is the story of personal faith growth, God's story of it. This process has two roots: our human reality within God's creation and God's revelation in Jesus. Discernment of spirits is God's story of us, narrated both in our makeup as human creatures and in God's love for us all in Jesus. If only this love shone clearly, brilliantly, beautifully in every situation! At times it does, of course, but at other times the radiance of this love is stained by smog or hidden by a heavy cloud of evil. If all were goodness, grace, and beauty, how wonderful--and surely no need for any careful sorting in such a good world. Or, if all were evil, darkness, and wickedness, we would live on the brink of despair--but, again, no need for any sorting or sifting. But, when the world of human beings is ambiguous and mixed, and still we are c~lled to find the goodness in it and to display it in ourselves in our daily lives, then a discernment of spirits within ourselves assumes an essential importance. We must learn to distinguish our selfish impulses from the radiant inspirations of the Holy Spirit of God. Most people have not developed the skills for expert discerning of spirits, but, if they do no discerning at all, mature faith eludes them. The priest, then, the spiritual leader and soul doctor in the parochial community, must do the hard work of learning the theory and practice of soul doctoring, of discerning holiness. In the midst of such careful inner sorting, we must never forget this: God desires and is committed to each of us in Jesus more than we can fully realize--and the Holy Spirit is constandy active in our hearts and our world. Christian holiness always has its initiative in the fire of God's loving desires for us. It is never a figment of our imagination or a product of our willpower. It is the mystery of God's precious gift for us all. But each of us must The priest must have a reflective understanding of the art of discernment, seen as the dynamics of any mature faith life. 3~uly-du~lst 2002 Aschenbrenn~ * Diocesan Priesthood learn to recognize, receive, and nurture the gift. And we need a guide to lead us, in some special ways, into the fire, into the radiant glow of that mystery: God's love burning bright in Jesus. The Material of Discernment God wants each of us to imitate.Jesus uniquely. The great challenge and invitation that haunts us all is to discover our true self in Christ. For each of us God intends a unique revelation of Christ. Though the enterprise has very complex aspects, the point is as simple as it is startling: God wants each of us to imitate Jesus uniquely. The very self that God intends each of us to be is a unique, living imitation of Jesus. And that life of ours is meant to shine for all the world. This true self, this unique revelation, this treasure is camouflaged in the spontaneous interiority of our daily consciousness. This pearl of great price, this treasure beyond all value, must be searched for and recognized when stumbled upon. Into the daily spontaneous consciousness of the priest and of his people come many images, feelings, thoughts, impulses, and moods, sometimes quietly, some-times shockingly. This inner world has a variety of seasons, bright hopeful springs and dark threatening winters. We might wish we could glimpse our true self in Christ conveniently and directly, avoiding tentative efforts to interpret these various elements in ourselves like the weather. But we do not even have anything like a satellite picture of our ow~ inner world. God takes the complexity of our human condition seriously, and so Jesus usually comes to us at the place where our own consciousness tangles with today's large or small historical realities. To try to avoid this encounter would be to deprive ourselves--and other people, too--of our unique opportunity to reveal Jesus Christ as God intends, that is, in daily circumstances that without our presence may lack the glow and radiance of fire. Whenever one person avoids these opportunities, the radiance of us all is somehow dimmed. The diocesan priest, doctor of souls that he is called to be, must not fail to uncover the treasure in these moments; others, seeing it, will carry the glow far beyond him. Revie~ for Religiou~ This discerning search for the treasure of our true self can be described in four steps, steps easier to describe than to apply to real circumstances. My intention is to describe the steps so that the priest can learn to recognize them in his own experience and then make them his own. This discerning process can then help the priest, the soul doctor, to guide people in discovering and welcoming the mystery of God's love in their own hearts and lives. Turned toward God This first step is most important and profound: an identity in Jesus Christ. Until this identity has been cultivated enough, serious discernment is not possible. A serious turning to God readies the heart for discernment and so initiates any trustworthy searching for the treasure of God's personal, uniquely specific love. This turning is a real change that grades the ground of our heart to a new incline: away from ourselves and toward God. It is more than a passing fancy or a momentary quirk. The realization that we are conceived, marked, and shaped from the dawn of our existence by a God who always and only loves, this realization takes root and changes the landscape of our daily lives. This realization of a Love greater than the love we have for ourselves stops us in our tracks. It invites an about-face. It gets us out of ourselves. A whole new vista opens up. We have discovered and been turned toward Someone more beloved than we are to ourselves. Is this Love for real? Can this Beloved be trusted? What are we to make of all this, of these subtle perceptions. As we pay closer attention to them, the realization can come that receiving and responding to such Love assumes an importance beyond all else. The ground under our feet shakes and radically shifts. At this juncture, there is a clarity; something has clearly changed. A central question has been posing itself in our heart for a long time: Am I the ultimate meaning of my own life? As we heard that question, the winds of our contemporary culture kept howling their answer: "Yes, of course! Of course I am the ultimate meaning 'of my own life! If not I, who else could be?" But now that yes is radically shaken and splinters into a clear no. The tree of my life is changed. I am no longer the ultimate July-Augwst 2002 Ascbenlrrenner ¯ Diocesan Priesthood meaning of my own life. Now my life's meaning is God's Love-- as promised and present in the risen Jesus. A new sun has risen, and it will never set. Now life becomes, more and more, fascination with this mysterious Beloved and radical openness and readiness for whatever that Love draws me to. Something has deepened and developed. An early seedling of religious intuition has become the fragile sprouting of a realization that by being tested becomes stronger and more deeply rooted. An early surmise and semiconscious intuition becomes a resolute desire of will. No tall grass shivering in the wind, but a tree, deeply rooted and still growing. This resolute desire shapes and casts our lives in love: first, God's ever faithful love in the risen Jesus and then our own love, our carefully discerned response of love. From now on, life is about love, at times tough love, but love nonetheless, and always. Make no mistake about that! In some important way, we are no longer in charge of our own lives. God is! Life is not yes to self, but yes to God, as shown in Jesus ("with him it was always yes," 2 Co 1:19). Facing Our Spontaneous Life Insofar as the countercultural movement to God's love has begun to take serious rooting in our heart, a second step beckons. Only honest facing of our inner spontaneous life makes it possible for us to find, in faith, trustworthy understandings about God. This statement is true, but it prescinds from the ingenuity of human consciousness for dishonest avoidance and selfish projection. We must learn, as best we can, to stand clear of these deceits and deceptions, whether conscious or unconscious, if we are to discern God's loving desire in our hearts. This is no easy matter, and invites the priest to an asceticism leading to truth and love. Sometimes this asceticism, always motivated by a growing desire to live in God's consoling love, will involve unlearning some previous training. An overly rationalistic view of Christian spirituality downplays, even scorns, the role of spontaneity and feeling, while on the other hand a supersensitivity to feeling and sentiment can smuggle into Christian spirituality a presumption that proclaims, sometimes quite unwittingly, that whatever we feel is God's will for us. In both of these instances, a previous Review for Religious learning must be honestly acknowledged, judged as incorrect, and gradually changed. As difficult as this change may seem, especially when the previously learned viewpoint has taken deep root, such a conversion is always possible for two reasons: first and foremost, the mystery of God's steadfast desire to get through to us and, second, our own soul's desire for ever greater radiance. If the priest stays in close touch with these two desires, he will be capable of whatever transformation is necessary because it will really be the work of the radiant Holy Spirit of God beckoning him beyond his own depth and into the realm of greater mystery in faith. A Wisdom of Interpretation in Faith In the process of the discernment I am describing here, for someone clearly turned toward God and honestly sensitive to the flow of inner spontaneity, the issue becomes a matter of meaning: Where is God in all of this? The answer requires a certain wisdom and ability to interpret. But interpretation could spring from any number of different vantage points, for example, from lived common sense, from majority cultural opinion, from professional human development, or from Christian faith. All of these different "wisdoms" might overlap to a small or large extent, but each would produce a different conclusion when used as the central focus of interpretation. In discernment the focus is profoundly one of Christian faith, a faith radiating with the experience of Jesus Christ and revealed in the Holy Spirit. How God is present here, now, offering a love beyond all loves--that is the central concern for a person turned toward and identified in God. As we have seen already, God is always present in all of our present historical world and in all of our spontaneous inner experience, but never simply and completely present to us. That treasure of a love beyond all value, that revelation of our own unique imitation of Jesus, must be sought in the mixture and confusion of our inner lives. An enlightenment of the Holy Spirit springing from our experience of God's faithful love alone--that is the gift needed at this point. Such enlightenment and wisdom differ subtly, though sharply, from enthusiastic generosity and simplistic sincerity. By themselves, without graced wisdom, these two qualities lack a North Star and can be dangerously ~Tuly-Au~st 2002 Aschenbrenner * Diocesan Priesthood misleading. The wisdom referred to here has a profound paschal orientation and is found more and more decisively present and operative in Jesus as he moves into the depths of his Passion all the way to Calvary and into his resurrected glory. This wisdom and enlightenment is hot the result of taking an academic course or reading a book. And it is not some sleight of hand or guesswork either. It is a grace the priest must pray for regularly. It has a firm context, and this helps the priest to be sure about the giftedness of his insight. The insight is tested in relation to the polestar of our identity in God's love. The. presence of the Holy Spirit is revealed in anything that conforms to our resolute desire to keep God's love, not self-love, as our focus. And anything that violates this focus is not an inspiration from God, but a nudge, large or small, toward self-idolatry. A pleasure-pain instinct in all of us tries to tilt us toward self-idolatry. This instinct of liking pleasure and fearing pain is understandable and healthy. But, when we let it assume a priority and centrality, when it becomes the focal light for our interpretation, then we become narcissistic. This pleasure-pain principle, in itself, is never fully identified with the paschal enlightenment of God's love. It was not so identified in the experience of Jesus. The pleasure-pain instinct did not plot his course to his beloved Father. Escaping 'the dominance of this instinct demands an asceticism. We are not to renounce this instinct pure and simple; rather, we renounce it as the polestar of our identity. Developing in faith our interpersonal relationship of love with God in the beauty of Jesus will not completely get rid of this instinct, but will weaken it. God's love ~n Jesus has become the treasure beyond all value, and what a grace it is to know indescribable pain when deprived of that treasure. To learn how to stand with Jesus, sometimes in pleasure and at other times in pain--this is the mature wisdom of a person consciously living in God's love. It is to claim the treasure intended by God before the foundation of the world: a radiant true self uniquely imitating the mystery of Jesus. Tactics for Intimacy with God The final step in this process is decisive tactics in accord with the paschal-faith interpretation of the previous step. For Review for Religious someone whose heart is resolutely set on following the lead of God's love, anything experienced as an incarnation of that love (often called consolation) is to be embraced, claimed, and lived, and anything that deflects us from God's love and toward self-idolatry (usually called desolation) is to be rejected and courageously withstood. In this step the issue is courage and decisive generosity, something possible only when illumined and strengthened by paschal wisdom. The issue is whether we will follow, and how wholeheartedly, the revelation of the Holy Spirit. This is the time for the soul's character to be healed and for faith to be annealed in the fire of the Holy Spirit. This process helps the hidden self grow strong, so that the priest can be a discerning presence in the midst of the people. Discernment, a life of mature spirituality, always acknowledges, distinguishes, and then interrelates three different dimensions of human existence: external behavior, what I call the core of the soul, and inner spontaneity. To develop and live out of the core of our true self is never easy, if possible at all in our post-modern world, but is always crucial for responsible, mature living in faith. Today's culture has great need of doctors of the soul who can facilitate the development of this core sense of true self through the integration of these three dimensions of human existence. Though our external behavior is perceptible and often consumes enormous energy, it is nothing more than a superficial part of our being. The activity on this stage poses a question of meaning, a question that it cannot itself answer even though it may seem to contain adequate answers for others and even ourselves. In our daily activity we touch and influence many people. As the New Testament reminds us, the activity of sincere loving reveals the genuineness of our faith. In the midst of our busy lives, the question often rises in our hearts: Are we simply what we do? Some careful reflection is needed to answer correctly and accurately. The question often rises in our hearts: Are we simply what we do? 2002 .~chenbrenner ¯ Diocesan Prie~thood A Hidden Self Grown Strong The soul's core is the unique and deepest part of every human person. This core plays a crucial role in the discovery of our true self in the beauty of Christ. A deep-hearted personal world, a treasure beyond value, is gradually revealed, acknowledged, and then laid claim to, though this whole process is much more one of receiving than of making. This inner core has a depth and a simplicity that is beyond words. As we grow in our appreciation of this personal center, its presence dawns, alluringly shrouded in mist and mystery. In the shifting mists of this mysterious realm, a noisy world is hushed. God breathes eternal love and life into this core of our soul moment by moment and on into eternity. This same creative love, unique to each of us, is in all of us. Our experience of God and of ourselves becomes ever more profound, personal, and unique. Even as you now read, this profoundly personal inner experience, this quiet steady conversation of love at our deepest core, gives the lie to feelings of suffocating loneliness. It gives the lie to the hateful notion that anybody is rotten to the core. Because of Jesus' love, a buried treasure, a pearl beyond pricing, a hidden self waits to be discovered in each human being, to be embraced, and to grow strong. Spontaneity takes place in the "skin" of our soul, in the rational and affective human experience of us all. As mentioned earlier, this experience of spontaneity conceals the deep treasure of our true self in Christ. These spontaneities of thinking and feeling may skitter across the skin of our souls, but do not touch the core. Spontaneities of impulse, image, and mood can flail and crackle and roar across our lives like an electrical storm. Such skitterings, such storms, coming and going, can bother or frustrate or enrage us. But they do, finally, pass. This level, spontaneous unintended experience, has the unpredictability of shifting sands and is not capable of the rock-like dependability of the core of the soul. This skin of the soul poses its own question: Are we simply and wholly identified by what we spontaneously think or feel? Though "what I feel" is never equal to "who I am," in the midst of a temporary storm we can all too easily judge otherwise. These spontaneities, though, really are on a different level. They are part of a process of integration, of coming to spiritual Review for Religious maturity, but they have their meaning only in relation to the soul's core. The presen.ce of these three dimensions of our persons and the four-step discernment process for integrating them should be familiar to the priest. Such integration is the way to mature faith and to appropriate activity that mature faith leads to. This integration is sometimes easy and obvious, sometimes confusing and excruciating. But doing it in love, doing it in our own unique imitation of Jesus' way of loving us, makes it possible, encouraging and strengthening us. This is the realm of service for a doctor of the soul. If the seminary communicates this and if it continues long after ordination, the result of this integration, this purification, will be like gold, bright and not sadly tarnished. To his service of their souls, the priest will bring a radiance that can illumine and develop the bright potential of their own lives. This radiance will be God's love shining from the face of the risen Jesus, still serving in our midst. Notes I George Aschenbrenner SJ, Quickening the Fire in Our Midst: The Challenge of Diocesan Priestly Spirituality (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2002). 2 See George Aschenbrenner SJ, "A Hidden Self Grown Strong," in Handbook of Spirituality for Ministers, ed. Robert J. Wicks (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1995), pp. 228-248. "Hidden Self," pp. 236-240. In the Words of Meister Eckhart The soul loves the body tenderly, even when, like a child on edge, it runs rambunctious through desire collapsing at last and won&ring why. Maryanne Hannan ~Tuly-dugv~st 2002 ERNEST E. LARKIN Desert Spirituality Booth Christian Meditation and centering prayer come out f early monasticism, which itself is a development of desert spirituality? Christian Meditation is the prayer of the heart described by John Cassian, the historian of desert spiri-tuality, who brought the wisdom of the desert fathers and moth-ers of Egypt and the Middle East to the West. Centering prayer comes out of the Cloud of Unknowing, a 14th-century English text that enshrines the contemplative traditions of the desert. It is no accident that both these contemplative prayer forms came to us by way of Benedictine and Trappist monasteries. Desert spirituality was the beginning of Christian monasti-cism and the matrix out of which Western monks developed their lifestyle. Contemplative prayer was at the heart of their life, and desert spirituality was the context. This article proposes to examine those ancient traditions and adapt them to our times. Desert spirituality is a technical term that has biblical and early Christian roots. The desert experience is a staple of both the Old and the New Testaments, for example, in the Exodus story, in the life of Elijah and the prophecy of Hosea, in John the Baptist, the forty-day fast of Jesus, and the three-year novitiate of Paul in Arabia (Ga 1:17). This desert experience was devel-oped into a coherent spirituality by the desert fathers and moth- Ernest E. Larkin OCarm wrote for us twice in 2001. His address remains Kino Institute; 1224 East Northern; Phoenix, Arizona 85020. Review for Religious ers in the 3rd and 4th centuries of the Christian era. These fer-vent Christians fled to Egypt and the Middle East to escape the decadence of an effete Roman empire. The wastelands offered a stark and untrammeled setting for a life of penance and prayer. Its rugged emptiness and its silence and solitude invited the flight from the world OCuga mundi). A special appeal to heroic souls was the belief that the demons infested the wastelands and could be met there in open combat. It did not take long for the desert dweller to discover that the demons were within and to be engaged on the battleground of the soul. Life in the desert was simple. Manual labor broke the monotony of the silence and solitude of the cell and provided .its own asceticism as well as sustenance and something for almsgiving. Desert dwellers spent their days in soul searching and the pursuit of the living God. Community life, especially when the solitary life prevailed, and outreach in ministry were clearly sec-ondary and not really part of the inte-rior struggle. Continuous prayer was the focus, and the abbas and the ammas spent their time in lectio div-ina, reading the psalms and the breviary, celebrating liturgy, and cultivating the prayer of the heart. These are the main fea-tures of desert spirituality. In this setting Christian holiness was a kind of white mar-tyrdom, a total giving over of one's life to God, the shedding of all self-indulgence in favor of a single-minded search for God. The desert was a graphic symbol of the emptiness of life and the otherness of God. The emptiness translated into purity of heart, a heart freed from sinful affections and centered on God. Thus the beatitude that best sums up desert spirituality is "Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God." Contemplation is the goal, and letting go of all lesser aims and surrender to the living God the condition. This general principle is abstract and can be lived out in an imaginary as well as a real desert. The desert as symbol universalizes desert spirituality as a possibility for everyone. There is, however, still place for the physical desert in ordinary Christian life. We examine this role The desert as symbol universalizes desert spirituality as a possibility for everyone. ]My-August 2002 Larkin ¯ Desert Spirituality in the next two sections of this paper, and we will return to the symbolic desert in the third section. Our first question is this: What can the desert do for me? In other words, why should I go out into the desert? The second question is a prophetic one: What can I do for a desert that is now under attack by the forces of neglect or consumerism? How do my efforts to protect the environment or my failure to participate affect my personal life? After these two reflections we will return to the overall princi-ple of desert spiritfiality, the call to emptiness and encounter with God. What Can the Desert Do for Me? In Scripture the desert is primarily the wasteland, and it leads to the garden of the promised land, the desert come to life, as in Isaiah 35:1-2: "The desert shall rejoice and blossom . The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon." Both the bleak image and the flowering one apply to the physical desert as we use the term today. The desert means the wilderness, the great outdoors. This includes barren wastelands like sand dunes or the scrubby flatlands of Texas or Arizona, but also verdant gardens, scenic forests, majestic moun-tains, and rolling plains. The desert is all the places on this beautiful earth that are still largely untouched by city sprawl and offer themselves as a refuge for weary people. These lands can be gift for our spirits. They refresh us and challenge us. They beckon us to "come aside and rest awhile," away from the noise and congestion of the city with its polluted air and harried traffic. The desert is the place to hike a trail, fish a stream, pic-nic with friends, or just smell the sage and be with one's long thoughts. " Except for some few families that have declared their inde-pendence and homesteaded in the wild and some rare hermits who have also settled there, people today only visit this desert; they do not dwell there. They go out for physical exercise and emotional refreshment, for meditation and for fun. They enter desert places hostile to human habitation very gingerly, armed with water jugs, proper sun gear, and ideally with companions. Some visit these "fierce landscapes" (Belden Lane) for excite-ment, others to deal with a crisis, a limit experience, a sorrow Review for Religious that overwhelms them. Perhaps unconsciously they are looking for an environment that mirrors their troubled soul. A good example of this kind of match between soul and terrain is a retreat for middle-aged men described in a recent publication.2 It was conducted by Richard Rohr and designed to help men from many walks of life through their midlife crisis. The retreat took place at Ghost Ranch in northern New Mexico in the sum-mer of A.D. 2000. The men were challenged to let down their defenses and face themselves squarely. The retreat turned out to be a harrowing rite of passage. The torrid summer heat and the bleak lonely emptiness of the desert combined with soul-search-ing introspection and dramatic rituals to test the most stout-hearted. More often retreats or "a day in the desert" are spent in more friendly spaces. An attractive pastoral setting calms the soul and provides the quiet that people need for facing the real issues of their life. God seems closer in pristine settings. One popular formula for such outings is the poustinia, a concept pop-ularized by Catherine de Hueck Doherty. Poustinia means her-mitage, and folks become poustiniaks for a day, bringing along only a Bible and a bit of bread and cheese. The poustinia can actually be a back room or the attic of one's home, but there are advantages in going out to the woods or the seashore. Getting out in the country, breathing in the fresh air and fragrances of the meadows, walking around the lake or trudging along paths in hilly terrain, can be healthy physical exercise and spiritual refreshment. These are ways of slowing down, of refus-ing to be a couch potato and insuring the balance of mens sana in corpore sano (a sound mind in a sound body). Grace builds on nature, so a healthy body and soul are a good basis for the life of God in us. A good health regime works directly against anx-ious, workaholic tendencies or the equally bad habit of inertia and laziness. Recreational activities also develop the playful side of our lives. This is our contemplative side. Visitors to the desert know that God is everywhere and that they do not have. to go up to the heavens or across the sea to find the word of God. "No," Deuteronomy says, "the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe" (Dt 30:11-14). But the desert facilitates the search. The wide open spaces, the silence and solitude, reveal God. July-August 2002 Larkin ¯ Desert Spirituality Silence is the best conta.ct point with God, since God is always present, though beyond speech, images, and concepts. The desert fosters this silence, this emptiness, the letting go of every-thing that is not of God. The desert is built for kenosis, the self-emptying of Jesus, who was perfectly open to God and was therefore exalted with the pleroma, the fullness of the resurrec-tion (Ph 2:5-11). The desert way is the way of emptiness and fullness. These reflections belong to the first step on the spiritual journey, the appreciation of creation. Original blessing pre-ceded original sin, and immersion in creation and appreciation and love for this gift ought to precede the work of redemption. This is the thinking of Teilhard de Chardin, Matthew Fox, Francis Kelly Nemeck, and Marie Theresa Coombs. More recently Dorothee Soelle sees "being amazed" as the first of the three ways or stages of the spiritual life? Instead of the classi-cal ways of purification, illumination, and union, she proposes "being amazed, letting go, and resisting" as the three steps. Amazement and appreciation help us take an objective stance before the earth, and this makes it easier to let go, the second of the three ways for Soelle. This leads us to involvement, to compassion and commitment, regarding the world. She calls this resistance, because it involves working against the threats to the environment and society. That is to say, we resist and work for justice in all areas of life, such as the economic and the eco-logical orders. The unitive way calls to action as well as divine union. What Can I Do for the Desert? The work of saving the earth is a challenge and responsi-bility for people everywhere today. The call resonates among informed spiritual persons. They have listened to the new cos-mology presented by scientists like Brian Swimme and the "geologian" Thomas Berry, and they have heard the plaintive warnings of the environmentalists that the earth is wounded and in danger of collapsing. The universe has become part of today's spiritual journey. The whole universe and its crown, homo sapiens, are seen as one vast living organism in which they depend on each other and rise and fall together. In the past the Revieva for Religious earth was looked upon as an appendage of humanity. Humanity alone counted, and the rest of creation was expendable. Human beings pursued their own desires recklessly, without thought about the effects in the environment. They could trash the earth, abuse it or destroy it, without worry because there were always other virgin territories to exploit in the same way. This was an affront to creation; we see it now as an affront to human life as well, because, in the words of Edward Abbey, "the wilderness is not a luxury but a neces-sity of the human spirit just as vital to our lives as water and good bread.''4 The uni-verse is an integral part of our human life. We are partners, and we participate in growth or decline together. In the abuse or destruction of the universe, we are diminished and dehumanized. The commission in Genesis 1:26 to have "dominion" over the earth did not give humans the right to abuse it. We are only caretakers, not absolute owners; we cannot take the myopic view of looking for an immediate return in pleasure or profit with no thought about the long-term loss to creation and the short-changing of future human beings. One reviewer of Thomas Berry's latest book, The Great Work: Our Way into the Future, quotes Berry and then adds some strong words of his own: "'What happens to the outer world happens to the inner world,' Berry avers. 'If the outer world is diminished in its grandeur, then the emotional, imaginative, intellectual, and spiritual life of the human is diminished or extinguished.' Our inner being will die if we continue to transform natural beauty into the soul-deadening, concrete-laden, box-store landscapes of a consumer society." s The obligation to safeguard the environment has three aspects: personal, societal, and spiritual. Each person needs to treat the desert with love and respect. Some of that concern is cosmetic, like cleaning up after using the land and properly dis-posing of the debris, especially nonbiodegradable material. Respect and moderation mean that we do not harm the plant life by careless trampling, that we obey rules about camp fires and camping, that we leave the natural beauty intact without pil-fering plants or otherwise harming the vegetation, that we Each person needs to treat the desert with love and respect. July-Aug;ust 2002 Larkin ¯ Dese~t Spirituality carefully control toxic substances like pesticides or poisonous chemicals. These are cominonsense suggestions. The societal obligation may take the form of joining groups like the Sierra Club that are dedicated to the environment, or of lending one's name to, say, Robert Redford's campaign to save the National Arctic Wildlife Refuge. Systemic problems can be addressed only by group action that can effect structural changes. We need to support these causes. There is no other way to stop the pollution of our waterways and atmosphere, to keep indugtrial wastes out of our rivers and lakes, to find ade-quate ways of dealing with nuclear waste, to stop the destruction of the ozone layer, to save the rain forests and wetlands, and to halt the woefully unbalanced overconsumption by the few. Elizabeth Johnson writes: "Every year, the twenty percent of Earth's people in the rich nations use seventy-five percent of the world's resources and produce eighty percent of the world's waste." 6 There is a special spiritual component today because of the crisis in saving the earth. Time is running out, and experts say that there are only twenty-five or thirty years left to turn the destructive spiral around. The problems are over-whelming, and the laborers are few. We can organize and we can work, but the odds are against us. At such times we need overt divine help. Specifically the challenge is to pray con-templatively, to face the societal impasse which Constance FitzGerald, in a famous article several years ago, connected with the dark night of St. John of the Cross: The dark night occurs as impasse in all sectors of human life, whether prayer, human relationships, or societal renewal. One response to impasse is trusting acceptance, silence before God, and lov-ing surrender, which bring wisdom and strength and which are qualities of contemplative prayer. We take our insoluble problems to God. We wait with faith and trust, ready to spring into action in changing what we can deal with and accepting what we cannot change. Contemplative prayer is an admission that our problems may be beyond human resources. But our prayer is full of hope, because contem-plation may stretch our imagination and inspire new creative ways of dealing with the problem. Solid prayer will certainly strengthen our resolve to continue the struggle. The popu- Review for Religious larity of contemplative prayer in our time may well be con-nected with the magnitude of the problems of this age. Desert Spirituality in Its Purest Form We return now to the traditional meaning of desert in the spiritual life, namely, desert as physical place and as symbol. The desert of the first abbas and aromas was the real wasteland. Anthony and Pachormus spurned the fleshpots of the Roman cities and went to the bleak deserts of Egypt to be alone with God and to keep careful watch over the movements of their hearts. The purity of heart they sought meant that they tried to choose only the good, to do everything right, in perfect measure, for the right reasons. They prayed and fasted to put to death the old man within themselves, so that the new man could come alive. They underwent this discipline for one reason: They wanted to see God. This goal was not face-to-face vision, as heaven will be (1 Jn 3:1-3); nor was it seeing God as an object, the way I see a person in front of me. Neither was it simply a new understanding, a new image of God, or a new perception. It was a seeing that meant presence, companionship, walking with God. It was contemplative union with God. Contemplation follows purity of heart as night follows day. We have a window into the thinking of the desert fathers and mothers in the first conference of John Cassian.s The imme-diate objective of life in the desert was purity of heart; this he called the skopos (English "scope"). The skopos is oriented to a further good, which he calls the telos, the end or final purpose. An example of these two aspects of human endeavor is the life of the farmer. The farmer prepares the soil, plants the seed, hoes and manures the field. All this is his immediate task, his sko-pos. But he does it all with a view to the harvest, which is the telos, the real purpose of his work. If the skopos of life in the desert is purity of heart, the telos is the fullness of the kingdom of God, the resurrected life. This program of seeking perfect purity of heart in order to find God can be applied to every Christian life. Purity of heart-- as freedom from every actual sin and as right relationships with self, others, the world, and God--is the immediate task of the daily struggle. Purity of heart is more than chastity; it is all the Larkin ¯ Desert Spirituality Purity of heart is all the virtues in perfect integration. virtues in perfect integration. This marvelous condition is often set in negative terminology. It is called detachment, or indif-ference, or freedom from sinful habits. But it is a very positive condition identified with biblical faith. This faith is the response to the word of God wherever it is recognized. It is the faith of the Virgin Mary in St. Luke's Gospel. At the annunciation, for example, she is perturbed at the angel Gabriel's message. How can she, a committed virgin, be the mother of the Messiah? When the angel assures her that God will provide, she gives her full assent to that word. She lets go of her own project in favor of God's word. A high degree of purity of heart means a heart full of faith. It means a heart full of love. The pure of heart are loving per-sons. They will see God, that is, they will know and love God, as described in the First Letter of John: "Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love . No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us" (1 Jn 4:7-8, 12). For the desert fathers and mothers and espe-cially for theologians like Evagrius and Gregory of Nyssa, see-ing God meant contemplation. This gift was the reward for the purification, and it consisted in experiencing union with God. This contemplation was not one particular experience, nor an altered state of consciousness. It came out of transformation. By allowing one's life to be brought under the movement of the Holy Spirit, one was born a new person, a "new creation" (2 Co 5:17). This new creature lived in the world of God and expe-rienced God in the whole gamut of his or her worldly occupa-tions. Contemplation was thus a way of life, not a particular experience. The Carmelite Application The evolution of desert spirituality suggested in this paper has special reference to Carmelite history. Carmel came out of Review for Religious the desert, born on Mount Carmel, home to the Old Testament prophet Elijah and to hundreds of hermits at the time of the Crusades. The Carmelites were one group of such hermits; they sought a rule of life from the Latin patriarch of Jerusalem, Albert of Avogadro, who held the office between 1206 and 1214. The result was the Rule of St. Albert, a contemplative and eremitical document that was simple, practical, and eminently scriptural. The tides of politics and war, however, forced the Carmelites to leave their sacred mountain and go back to Europe as early as 1238. The eremitic style of life underwent change in the direction of community and ministry, eventually making the order a mendicant one like the Dominicans and Franciscans. One of the early general superiors, Nicholas the Frenchman, tried to stem the move to the city. In 1270 he wrote a strong let-ter, called "The Fiery Arrow," calling the men to return to the desert. But the mendicant form of life had struck a chord in their hearts. They continued to foster their contemplative long-ing, but now they carried the desert in their hearts. The desert was a symbol now rather than the physical reality. A second charter of the order, called the Institution of the First Monks, dated 1370 and written by a Catalonian Carmelite, Philip Ribot, presented a symbolic life of Elijah and the example of the Blessed Mother as both a description and a defense of the new lifestyle. The book incorporated the thinking of John Cassian, especially on the structure of the religious life as the search for purity of heart and contemplation. The desert spirituality of Mount Carmel was adapted now to an active apostolic life. Henceforth Carmelite spirituality was at home in communities of active religious and lay people as well as cloistered contem-platives. The reform of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross two centuries later built on this document and renewed and perfected the eremitical-contemplative ideal of Carmel. They did so, not only by promoting desert houses of total contem-plative life, but by organizing a way in which every Carmelite house could be, in the words of a great Carmelite of the next century, John of St. Samson, another Mount Carmel. The desert spirituality of Carmel's beginnings had become democratized and available to all who espouse the ideals of the Carmelite tradition. 3 73- --- July-August 2002 Larkin ¯ Desert Spirituality Notes t Christian Meditation and centering prayer are two popular forms of contemplative prayer, designed by John Main OSB and the Trappists at Spencer, Massachusetts, respectively, the former promoted by the World Community of Christian Meditation under Laurence Freeman OSB and the latter by Contemplative Outreach, whose leader is Thomas Keating OCSO. 2 Donal O'Leary, "High Noon at Ghost Ranch," Furrow 52 (January 2001): 27-35. 3 Silent Cry: Mysticism and Resistance (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001), pp. 88-93. 4 Cited from his Desert Solitaire by Thomas J. McCarthy, "The Ultimate Sanctum," America (9 April 2001): 6. s Stephen Bede Sharper, "A New Heaven and a New Earth," Christian Spirituality Bulletin 8 (Fall-Winter 2000): 15. 6 "God's Beloved Creation," America (16 April 2001): 9. 7 "Dark Night as Impasse," in Living with Apocalypse, ed. Tilden Edwards (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1984). s Conferences, of John Cassian, trans. Colm Luibheid (New York: Paulist Press, 1985), pp. 37-43. Devotion I am twelve, have read of the child Virgin martyrs, and decide it is High time I practice such virtue. At My next confession, after the usual Childhood sins, I say I want to Vow myself to God like a saint. The Assistant pastor, thinking fast, replies That at present I don't know The vocation God has chosen For me, but I may promise him My chastity until I take that vow, Or those of marriage. Satisfied, I rejoice in God's favor, and Make my promise. Mary Hanson Review for Religious BARBARA ZAJAC Three Forms of Community Living: A Survey Report For much of the 20th century, sisters who performed charitable service works lived in convents near the institutions they served. As missions and roles changed after the Sister Formation Conference (1950s) and Vatican Council II (1960s), so did the living arrange-ments, often necessitated by travel considerations. Congregations such as these had called themselves "communities" when they held common missions and residences, and they continue to use this term today even though--wearing few or no common ~ymbols, ministering in widely diverse occupations, and residing in locales favorable to their mission assign-ments- many are barely identifiable as members of a group of sisters. Puzzled that this topic received little attention in sociological literature aside from Wittberg's analyses (see Bibliography), I found myself raising several research questions about the meaning of "community." Does it mean a location-based entity? A process? A set of relationships? A task force? A par-ticular goal or ideal toward which people strive? As part of a larger study (Zajac, 1999b), I studied Barbara Zajac first contributed to our pages in 1999. Her current address is Department of Sociology; Indiana State University; Terre Haute, Indiana 47809. July-Aug£ust 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living one religious order of apostolic sisters. Though from their founding the group provided chiefly educational and medical services, individual sisters now select their own mission assign-ments, which include traditional teaching and parish pastoral work, professional careers such as psychologist and speech pathologist, and social activism and feeding the homeless and hungry. Throughout California over a two-year period (1995 and 1996), fifty members of this congregation were interviewed indi-vidually and in-depth. Although the sample was volunteer and purposive, it is considered fairly ~:epresentative of the order in general (see Zajac, 1999a). Additional information was obtained from the group's monthly magazinE, religious periodicals, and selected participant observation. The group is given the pseudonym Sisters of Reconciliation of JesusI (SRJ). Similarly, individual names and identifying factors have been disguised or altered. What Community Means It is evident that there is no widespread consensus about the word community. Putting feelings into words was difficult for the sisters, and they responded in words they were comfortable using. Some began with what I would call generalized notions of community, and others described what community involves or how it can be formed and lived. Still others spol~e of mani-festations of community and of how community is maintained. Nearly everyone cited some of the qualities I will describe under manifestations of community. Anything approaching near agreement on most of the gen-eralized notions of community was absent. Some sisters attached the term to a specific location, while others denied the impor-tance of a spatial component. Some described community as an ongoing process that is never completed, or as an ability, agree-ment, or commitment. Others mentioned the people involved and the human connections among them. A number of the sis-ters spoke of community as a bond or tie among people, a togetherness, while others used such phrases as "a living-out of the vows," "a unanimity of vision and purpose," and "the charism [of the Sisters of Reconciliation] lived out." Regarding Review for Religious the often mentioned familial nature of community, there was much disagreement. Some denied that it is a family, some described it as "like" a family, and others claimed that it is "more than" a family. Certain sisters told me they think community involves notions of struggle, being invested in the group or having a sense of ownership about it. Some explained the factors by which they create for themselves a sense of "community," ger-mane to the can-be-done category. While at least one sister cited similar ministry as the key to community, others thought the key is personal characteristics such as being open to others, try-ing to understand them, and being thoughtful, prayerful, and considerate. Many said that much communication is needed, and a great deal of give-and-take, exemplified in being open to others, trying to understand them, and allowing for the flow of communication, with its misunderstandings, disagreements, and concurrences. Others talked of the mechanisms by which community can be sustained, such as living or working together, "making it happen," or constantly articulating the meanings. The latter suggestions are rather nonspecific, but the next item is quite different. Certain sisters told me they think community involves notions of struggle. Manifestations of Community Nearly everyone listed one or two qualities in the category called manifestations ofcommunity. A good many used a small number of emotionally laden terms, heartfelt terms: empathy, interconnectedness, sharing. Others used different words, but their intent seemed similar enough that I could not justify putting their statements elsewhere. Examples of this are "living together, not singly" and "working on things together." In this "manifestations" category many talked of the people they encountered, or of the work as being a continual process; some continued an articulation of "what community means to me." Human behaviors and interactions, with their sentiments July-August 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living and attitudes, make up the heart of community. Empathy is expressed especially through concern and caring, through notic-ing and having interest in others. One person termed this a "feeling for" others, and many called it "support." Such senti-ments are displayed in such particular behaviors and actions as showing respect and appreciation or at least acceptance; if not, the reality of the sentiments is questionable. If empathy is pre-sent and expressed, the members of a group develop and main-tain an interconnectedness, an interdependence, a mutual sense of belonging. They develop a social solidarity. Empathy, empathic behavior, and interdependence work together in what is called sharing, which seems to be central. Nearly all the sisters interviewed mentioned the sharing of something, whether faith or prayer, tasks, worldly goods, help-ful services, or expressions of caring support. Sharing faith and the spiritual life was mentioned most frequently, and, along with it, the emotional support this sharing provided. Things like housework, goods, and ministry are shared differently, depending on the specific living arrangements (to be described shortly). The sharing of spirituality and various works rein-forces caring sentiments and behaviors and the sense of being interdependent. It is through sharing even ordinary things that crucial personal connections are created and sustained. Representative Community Groupings Three types of community living groups will be described: a self-named "intentional" community, what I term a residen-tial community, and a community of one. These are composite portraits. They do not describe every type of living situation, but seem representative of the arrangements of active Sisters of Reconciliation. Intentional Community "House of Peace" is the sign next to the doorbell of a large house in a run-down neighborhood of the central city where poverty is endemic and violence is the norm. The home of five SRJs, this intentional:community was formed with express pur-poses in mind. The sisters deliberately chose its location amid Review for Religious widespread desolation in order to identify with and serve the poorest people of the city. The members were selected for their personal and professional qualities, namely, a desire for an intense spiritual life and an unwavering dedication to the mis-sion of the Sisters of Reconciliation in serving the city's need-iest people. There are five regular residents. Sister Elaine Sherman runs a transitional housing program for homeless families. Sister Mary Anne coordinates the sisters' social-justice efforts. Sister Ruth Patrick, retired from a full career of teaching, daily trav-els twenty miles each way to where she cooks and serves meals to transients. Sister Bertina Marie, who is bilingual, is a com-munity activist and pastoral minister in the Spanish-speaking community. Sister Jane Th~r~se, who has not yet taken her final vows in religious life, teaches religion in a local Catholic high school and hopes to study divinity in the future. The house is also the home base of a sister working in a residential house for adolescents and of sisters visiting temporarily from mission lands or elsewhere. Sister Ruth Patrick, the oldest sister and the one longest in the SRJs, was the driving force for starting this new house. She had been aware of the brewing turbulence in religious life since the 1950s and thought then that the sisters ought to be living more adult lives than was possible while rigidly observing detailed rules and daily schedules in sequestered convents. She wanted to live out her own values explicitly, holding prayer in common, sharing with the poor, living very simply, and being concerned about others and accountable to them. And so she looked for sisters that she felt had a strong sense of the SRJ mis-sion and were dedicating their lives to living it. She looked for sisters who knew themselves well and.knew what would equip them well for their ministries. She looked for sisters who were aware of what would personally empower them and what might drain them of apostolic energy. She looked for sisters who were willing to give support to others and to receive it as well. Such sisters she approached with her proposal. Perhaps most important, these women must be open to new forms of prayer such as sharing of the heart rather than recit-ing formulaic prayers at specified hours. This prayer involves common reading of a passage from the Bible' and then individ- July-August 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living ual reflection and comment on what the reading means to each one, how it applies to her own life. It demands a willingness to be open and vulnerable to other people. This sharing of faith and spirituality is not for everyone. Some older sisters, in par-ticular, have been reluctant to engage in it. Now, when a new member wishes to join the house, she comes and talks with the existing group about her hopes and ex.pectations for common life. She learns that, in addition to sharing faith and emotional support, the group divides up the house chores, such as bookkeeping and paying the bills, shopping for food and preparing meals, cleaning and yard work. She learns that she is to live on the allotted personal budget and to reserve some of that money to support foreign missionaries. She learns that "one person's guest is every person's guest" here. Although a sister may dislike or resent such an interview before being admitted to a new house, she needs to remind herself that the present residents consider it crucial that new residents know and agree to support these values and their explicit expression. Sister Elaine, who came to religious life through her vol-unteer work and not directly from her Catholic schooling, explains more about this group's dynamics~ Although they min-ister in diverse fields with varied schedules, they reserve one night a week as their community night, when all will be present for prayer, eating, and sharing. Her social-work background leads her to describe the difficulty of working with people "who are blocked up" by past traumas or interpersonal issues. This form of life, this "microcosm of society," is a difficult life to live. It must enable sisters to go out and minister to the world. They must learn to be communicative and must get to know each other's histories. Since there are various workable arrangements for getting through days cooperatively and smoothly, the sisters must con-tinually strive to accommodate themselves to the others in the group. Sister Elaine thinks that an all-female group can be "really beautiful and powerful or really terrible," depending on how they handle interpersonal relations. The key thing, in her experience, is to keep talking to each other and "not whine." She admits that she had to learn some of these things herself in community living and that it is still sometimes difficult to keep her own "space." She is one of those who prefer not to talk to Review for Religious anyone for a few minutes after arising in the morning, so she now showers at this time to maintain her internal quietude. Pastoral ministry to the poor and immigrant Spanish-speak-ing community is Sister Bertina Marie's specialty. While her day is occupied with teaching English as a second language and running a community center with various offices and activities (Head Start, legal clinic, medical outreach services, and chil-dren's programs), she is an integral member of the House of Peace. Seeking more ways to live out the SRJ vision, charism, and values, its members extend love and hospitality to sur-rounding neighbors. The sisters offer their house as a site for Neighborhood Watch and other meetings. They make sure that flowers are always growing in their yard to symbolize nonvio-lence in a locale where drugs, gangs, and hostilities abound. Sister Bertina Marie stresses the integration of the house goals with individual ministries: all identify with and serve the poor, value deep prayer life in common, and support others with goods and hospitality. Sister Mary Anne, the government-affairs coordinator for the congregation, spends her.time researching, writing, lobby-ing, and educating people about political issues that affect the poor. Working for such structural change where results come slowly if at all is for many an enervating and thankless task. She talks of recognizing one's own needs as well as those of others, and of balancing community life with ministry. She speaks from experience. At one time she held a position that "totally consumed" her. She thought she was in a vocation crisis and should perhaps leave the community. She was so burned out that she" had nothing to give to anyone and did not even want to "bring Jesus" to the people she worked with. An extended retreat, however, provided her with reflection time to realize it was her ministerial position that needed to be changed, not her SRJ affiliation. Now she highly values living with oth-ers who think as she does, all of them giying and getting real emotional and spiritual support. "Community has been a gift to me," she recalls, mention-ing the friends she has made and how they "move together in growth." She says she was one of the first to propose and pio-neer small-group living and that her experience with eight oth-ers proved its value for her. Being honest with each other and .~tuly-August 2002 Zajac * Three Forms of Community Living "I'm not accepted just because I'm capable. I can be a failure and I'm still loved." sharing their deepest values were what she had been seeking. When all members had the "same thirst for God and the desire to live out a faith life in mission," they found they did not fight over little things, but rather worked them out, a quality that is sometimes missing in residential communities. The youngest member of the House of Peace commun!ty is Sister Jane Th4r~se, thirty-something, planning to take her final vows within a year. She was attracted to this house for sev-eral reasons besides its location near where she teaches religion to inner-city children. She was pleased that there were a vari-ety of ages together there and liked their outreach to the neigh-borhood. As a newer SRJ, she appreciated this group's willingness to work with younger members and pass on wisdom and insight from their experience. Sister Jane Th4r~se cites a sentence to describe the com-munity's value to her, a line from the SRJ constitution: "With the strength that comes from our life together, we turn to serve the world in need." "This was not only memorized," she says, "it was lived." She remarks that the constitution holds that SRJs share "all that we have and are," including personal uncertainties, frailties, and inabilities, all of which she knows firsthand. Before her current ministry she was locked into a miserable sit-uation where she had no power or auth.ority. She says that, although her sisters in this local community were in no position to give her help or even offer constructive criticism, speaking about her difficulties and receiving support in return were cru-cial to her fulfilling that assignment. Such unconditional accep-tance comes from being a member of the community. She says, "I'm not accepted just because I'm capable. I carl be a failure and I'm still loved." The ability to be vulnerable and to share one another's gifts helps her "to find God active in the world." In addition to these regular residents, House of Peace is also the local community for Sister Mary Kimball, a member of the SRJs of the East Coast. In Califoi'nia to gain experience in a new ministry, she runs a home for truant and delinquent high Review for Religious school girls who show academic or other creative potential. Because this ministerial unit requires her live-in presence, she affiliates with the House of Peace local community. Ordinarily she will be there every Monday evening to share dinner, prayer, and occasional social activities. Being a member of this group keeps her from feeling isolated and abandoned and allows her to give and get support within the context of her commitment to the mission of the SRJs. Residential Community The convent of St. Junipero Serra sits amid a pleasant res-idential neighborhood in the west side of the city. Next to the Catholic church and school, it once housed sisters of the con-gregation responsible for running the school. Now no sisters teach there. Not needed for parish activities, the building is rented to the SRJs for a reasonable fee. The residential com-munity is home to seven SRJs engaged in various ministries; the youngest is in her forties, and two are semiretired. This convent is run by group government, explains Sister William Joseph, who teaches math at Sacred Heart College for Women, established by the SRJs. Group government, originally an experimental form of living, applies now to almost all resi-dential groups and means participatory decision making in mat-ters that involve all members. The group collectively determines the extent of common prayer life, shared meals, other domes-tic activities, and group celebrations. "Respect" and "acceptance" are two words frequently heard in this group because, as one explains, "not all things can be shared well." This group has decided to share morning prayers Mondays through Fridays, and to gather one evening a week to share experiences and discuss the business of the larger con-gregation. They support the large community of sisters at events and serve as a "presence" in the parish. The group evening may be for holiday celebrations or indi-vidual birthdays or religious feast days. At the time of Sister William Joseph's interview in early January, there was a tall dec-orated Christmas tree in the common living room where we talked. She told me that this community would be celebrating its Christmas that evening, exchanging gifts. During the previ- July-August 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living ous week, all were out visiting their families, so a common celebration was postponed. Sister William Joseph was one of those who did not want to break up the convent into smaller residential groups in the 1970s. She has always appreciated the exposure to many other sisters and did not wish to lose contact with those she might not encounter in her ministry or in small-group living. She says she has always had to "stretch herself" for others, but adds that this is part of the commitment they make to each other. Similar is her opinion of all the congregational events this house supports; she really does not care for so many meetings and events, but attends as part of the duty she upholds. Sister Adia Marie Buckley, too, is involved in academics. An administrator at the same college, she speaks about reli-gious- life community a little differently. "Although there must be people with whom one lives and with whom one must main-tain friendly relations," she says, "community extends to much more than this." She explains the kinship sense she feels with the broad congregation of other SRJs in the United States and else-where in the world, and with affiliate members, former mem-bers, and sisters in other orders. Sister Catherine Tivnan, who runs an office at the congre-gational headquarters, explains why she chose this house: "They're kind of middle-of-the-roaders, and I thought I'd fit in with them. I thought this was what I was looking for in peo-ple, for not heavy-duty intensive living, but just a nice, com-fortable place where I would fit in and would be accepted." By "not intensive" she explains that in some places there are peo-ple who "dissect everything and practically have a magnifying glass on everything you say and do." She says she does not mind such psychological probing on occasion, but cannot take a steady diet of it. She gives an example. A sister with whom she used to live would read every article in the Sunday newspaper and then want to discuss it with anyone in the room at the time. Eventually Sister Catherine would explicitly refuse to talk with her. She preferred to look at the paper rather quickly and then move on to other activities like walking by the beach or going to a movie. Sister Elizabeth Conan is a registered nurse and medical instructor who teaches away from home two or three evenings Review for Religious a week. Dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a plaid shirt, she tells me that she does less of the cooking for the house than some oth-ers because of her split work schedule. Her family also occupies her attention for about one day a month because of some difficult illness. She loves spending time with her sisters in com-munity, however, including their times of play. She likes to barbecue in good weather, and she says that at times she will just put out a sign-up sheet shortly beforehand, rather than planning everything well in advance. "Dressed to the teeth" was the impression Sister Margaret de Lorca made when I met her in her office at the parish hall. She explains that, coming from an artistic family, she had always enjoyed the use of color in her surroundings, although she did not wear it during many years of teaching in the traditional habit. Working part-time now, Sister Margaret works in religious edu-cation, organizing prayer groups, directing occasional retreats, and providing individual spiritual direction. She tells me that the sisters have common prayer in the house at 6:10 a.m. Monday through Friday. They initially prayed together in the evenings, but found it too difficult because of their divergent schedules. She contrasts living here in a small group with living in the congregational center, which is home to about a hundred sisters and was her home for two years. Even though residents here have to work to find time to be together, it takes a lot less energy to relate to this group than it would to everyone in the large community. Life was stressful for her there because, in walk-ing down a hallway, she would commonly encounter ten or twelve different people. By the time the tenth person said "How are you, Sister Margaret?" she would be exhausted. She is "not an extrovert," but also "not a strong introvert," so daily relations with six other people are plenty for her. Another member of this group is Sister Margot Monroe, an educational psychologist who does counseling for individ-ual schools and has a private practice for handicapped children. The sisters have common prayer in the house at 6:10 a.m. Monday through Friday. July-dugv~st 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living Though she loved the children she encountered in her teaching career, she became frustrated by the time required for extracur-ricular events like sports and cheerleading. She wonders if the congregation made a mistake leaving teaching en masse, and thinks the sisters should have taken more risks in starting new schools and programs.' She also expressed her frustration about the church, where "the hierarchy has not accepted our SRJ growth" and women religious are "only tolerated in the church and not really accepted." This leaves her in the painful posi-tion of being more removed from general church affairs than she would like to be. She feels similarly frustrated in her residential community, where not all have grown theologically and personally to the extent she has. Some of the sisters are not accustomed or very open to sharing, which she finds particularly "life-giving." "People can fulfill all their responsibilities," she explains, "and still not share who they really are." Although she tries to encourage certain ones to be more open, she does it in a gen-tle manner. Still, she finds this group to be a little shallow: "I feel I have community with the people I live with, but it's rather superficial. We're nice to each other. Our horarium for the day is not problematic at all, but I wish we had a depth of sharing that would bring us all to a different place." She believes, however, that living in this house is a trade-off. These people are not her best friends, of which she hag a num-ber outside this convent. While she gains depth and stimula-tion from her outside friendships, here she has the freedom and flexibility to come and go as she pleases without making com-mitments for large blocks of personal time and energy. The final resident of this group is also semiretired. Sister Patricia Louise, in her nineties, likes to cook and works in the parish food pantry. She says that "the diversity of ministry now militates against close community life," which they had when all worked together. This way is "harder but healthier"; it keeps people in contact with diverse fields and offers stimulating con-versation. She says: "It used to be that, if you all taught in the same elementary school, your conversation was always about families in the school, problem kids, what was going on in the parish. But this way we also know what is going on at the col-lege, at the high school, and at the hospitals." Review for Religious Despite their interdependence in the common life, how-ever, they are independent about their use of free time. She says that everyone is very "embedded" in what she is doing on her own and that not living with one's best friends is really an advantage. She adds that she never wanted a residence that was "like a hotel" and prefers the interdependence she finds here. Even though these women do not have "a lot of involvement with each other, what they do has value." A Community of One Sister Zo~ Warnercalls herself "a community of one" because no other sisters live or work with her and she does not have weekly contact with members of her congregation. Fifteen years ago she went out on her own with the blessing of the com-munity (but no funding) to create St. Martin's Children's Center, a temporary residential and resource center for children in fam-ilies undergoing major upheavals in their lives. Like an available set of grandparents, this center can care for up to fifteen chil-dren for a maximum of thirty days each, although the staff tries to restrict it to fewer children and shorter periods of time. Sister Zo~ lived in this large residence with a dog as her sole com-panion while the structure underwent remodeling and opera-tions eventually got underway, and she still lives there. Her purpose in inhabiting the building before its operation was to become a "presence" in the town and to begin to get a "community focus" on the center. She is referring not to the SRJ community now, but to the neighborhoods, businesses, and voluntary groups which support the center's activities. Her strat-egy evidently worked, because, as people came to know her and her plans, they wanted to participate and give support in vari-ous ways. One measure of that support is financial. Sister Zo~ "lives on faith" to provide the center's operating expenses of almost a half million dollars a year, because it has no regular income. Contributions tend to be sporadic yet somehow ade-quate for their needs. She says: "The Lord provides when we need it. from the little things to the big things . We just watch the mailbox and say our prayers. We have never run out of money or closed our doors due to lack of funds." Although she hopes to obtain the services of a part-time grant writer later July-Auffust 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living "Community is the same as its core. I am a sister from the core of my being." this year, she has done this and all other duties herself, includ-ing caring for the children and teaching life skills to the parents. Although a few Sisters of Reconciliation have come to work with her for brief periods over the years, Sister Zo~ now sees none of them frequently. Yet her connection to the SRJs is strong, and "our sisters., very much know I'm a community member." She explains that her SRJ area superior holds general gatherings three or four times a year and maybe a day of prayer once in a while. By participating in these activities and attend-ing the funerals of older sisters, Sister Zo~ carries the SRJ charism with her and uses it to create a sense of community with whomever she is working: "There's something I have learned., that, no matter where you go, you bring the sisters with you or you bring your experience of community." In addition to SRJ gatherings and ministry associates, Sister Zo~ has a couple of good friends she sees regularly. One of these is a nun from another congregation; the other is a priest friend. This little group frequently celebrates Sunday Mass in the residence of the non-SRJ, and they sometimes follow it with a potluck dinner, occasionally bringing in other friends or neigh-bors. She had to create this new sense of community herself, however, and she attributes this ability to her long-standing experiences with the SRJs: "By coming out here, community wasn't provided for me. I had to create it, and I used the skills, the tools, the experiences that I had had for all those years. to create a life that was community-oriented. But I had to take the reins and take the initiative and have it happen." Would she like more contact with other SRJs? She says that, although she does not require it, she would welcome another sis-ter if one were to want to live and work with her, and perhaps this new person would help care for her when she gets "old." She emphasizes, "Community is not based on the number of times you see people, but on the feelings and interests to see, hear, and share with others." She also takes he~" identity as an SRJ seriously, having followed the advice of her novice mistress never to abbre-viate the word sister, but always to write it out as part of her name Review for Religious and identity. Sister ZoE puts this together with her feelings about community: "Community is the same as its core. I am a sister from the core of my being, and I am a Sister of Reconciliation." "Good" and "Bad" Community Some sisters gave examples of either "good" or "bad" com-munity experiences, which sometimes held more feeling than the brief descriptive words suggest. One sister said that real community spirit was truly shown when her very good friend died suddenly. She received about a hundred sympathy cards, which told her that the loss of this friend was about more than "my private grief." Another sister described spending some time at a residential therapeutic community for religious congrega-tions. The therapy included the sharing of their life stories, a "first" for this particular sister, where the sharing of those "sad and joyful feelings" created a strong bond within the group. Still another told of the difficult period when she lost her job because of organizational restructuring, but still had had the full support of the community: "I was very glad I was a com-munity woman because otherwise I would have had to get a lawyer. In community I just shared what happened, and they journeyed with me through it." Sister MaryJoyce described her experiences in one of the first experimental communities of group government in 1969. In this new group for which everyone had volunteered, there were between ten and fifteen sisters at various times over several years, and they were trying out new approaches to teaching as well as living. This situation was "life-giving": the participants were all "high energy" types and risk takers as well. They all cared for each other and the outside world, and were concerned about where people were with God, faith, and prayer. Sister Kathryn Ann described something similar. When her ministry took her away from others in her own order, she lived in an apartment house that people came to call The Nunnery because in addition to herself there were six sisters from another con-gregation, a priest, and a brother, all in individual apartments. Although they "lived singly" and ministered in different places, they got together frequently for prayer, meals, and Mass, often signaled by a knock on the wall. July-Angvtst 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living 3.90 Sister Mary Magdalene has had her share of feeling less than appreciated by other SRJs, yet had a wonderful experience when she lived in a rural area with three other sisters, all teachers, who endured together the crisis of the school's closing. Although one of them was the principal of the school and also the supe-rior of the convent, they interacted as equals and "were just peo-ple together," frequently cooking and sharing meals on the weekends in an era when most convents still had cooks. Although they were together in the school, they also spent outside time together, but "it wasn't mandated. It was a choice we were mak-ing." This relaxed atmosphere where everyone's talents were recognized was contributed to by a pastor who was supportive and friendly and occasionally took them all out to dinner. Another sister, Sister Peg, described an aspect of her first job as a hospital chaplain. Living in an apartment across the street from the hospital, she provided hospitality for visiting sisters and especially those recuperating from surgery or illness. The informality and spontaneous "ease with which the sisters moved in and out of my life" was an exciting and fulfilling period. These positive experiences of community do not necessar-ily require other sisters or vowed people. Sister Benita Rogers shared one such experience when she was leaving an ethnically mixed parish that she had brought together over a number of years. Addressing a large parish group, Sister Benita, who does not speak Spanish, expressed her desire that perhaps now the diocese would assign a bilingual person as her replacement. A Hispanic man stood and spoke for the group: "It doesn't mat-ter whether or not you can speak Spanish. You have the corazon, the heart. That's how you've communicated. You've read us with your heart." It is the major congregational gatherings, however, that sev-eral sisters cited as the "best expression" of community spirit. One of these celebrations is the Congregational Days, when all sisters from the West come together with former sisters as well as affiliate members to celebrate the SRJs as a whole. The other is the jubilee celebration, held anr~ually on the feast day of their patron. Families and friends are invited to participate in the joyful celebration of the anniversaries of their vows as Sisters of Reconciliation. Among these hundreds of people there is a won- Review for Religious derful "spirit that you can almost touch." Everyone feels a part of this group energy and spirituality. It leads people to say that "the most profound experience of community is to experience us praying together." Although Sister Rafaela says she "has never had a bad com-munity experience," this is not the case for many sisters. Sisters described instances where they felt alienated, isolated, or at least not fully appreci-ated in the community, both in their local group and in the larger group. Often the difficulty stemmed from some-one's personality or behavior. When people are too busy to notice others or care about what they are undergoing, those others can feel "deadened" and not supported, making them withdraw from the group. On the other hand, those who "demand too much" from others in terms of time or resources make community living difficult. These people are usually those who have "not done their home-work" regarding their own interpersonal issues. Sometimes, carrying unresolved emotional traumas from their early life, they attempt to hide with the aid of alcohol, a too busy sched-ule, or emotional distancing of others. When people are "afraid of their own spirituality" or are "not willing to be honest" with each other, communal sharing and support are undermined from the start. Sometimes there is a plain lack of openness to others. Sister Joan Claire Mendoza described such a case. She lives in a large convent with eight or nine other sisters, four of whom work in the attached school, while the rest work in various other min-istries. They are together for morning Mass and one evening dinner per week. Although these sisters are "polite" to Sister Joan Claire, it is clear to her that they really do not want her there. Three of them maintain very close relations and actually "make up their own community." Fortunately, Sister Joan Claire has developed a personal and professional network of friends and colleagues from whom she receives most of her emotional Those who "demand too much" from others in terms of time or resources make community living difficult. -201 --- . J~dy-dugust 2002 Zajac " Three Forms of Community Living sustenance. Another sister described a similar case. She felt so rejected that she was "not even sure she was still an SRJ." Others expressed their isolation when they felt that their talents, gifts, or ministry were not appreciated. If community members remain or act unaware or. uninformed about them and their work, those living in common as well as those minister-ing on their own can be affected. Sometimes the personalities of the people living together are too divergent or their schedules too diverse to allow for harmonious living. Highly divergent worldviews in people can also make daily life uncom-fortable. In other instances a quiet person is misconstrued to be someone quite alien to her real self. One sister said she had been surprised to learn that her housemates had thought she was very self-confident and did not need any help or support. In another convent she had been perceived as a threat to others because she had more education than most of the others. The biggest obstacle to community, however, one sister said, occurs when people do not maintain confidences. This causes a shat-tering of trust and pushes people back to isolation. A few sisters expressed frustration or anger with the com-munity at large. One told of an instance when her mother was dying. Although everyone knew about this, there was little inter-est, caring, or support shown. Another sister said that several years ago she was angry with the general community for giving financial support to a foreign political group that she thought was wrong. Another sister said that sometimes lack of equality really bothered her. Because of her age she had been denied permission to study for an advanced degree, yet in that very year three sisters older than herself were approved and funded for graduate education. When this woman protested this as unjust, she received an apology from the president of the con-gregation, but still no approval for further study. In this article we have examined how sisters in one reli-gious community define and create "community." There is lit-tle general consensus about the term, although some common values are evident. In general, all agree that something must be shared and that there is a feeling of interdependence or inter-connectedness. How and what things are shared, however, varies according to the type of living group that is chosen. Individual Review for Religious sisters' stories were interwoven here into three composite pic-tures of community living: intentional community, residential community, and a community of one. Also, some examples of what creates "good" and "bad" community were given. The various types of community exist in various circum-stances and are experienced in various ways by individual sisters. There seems to be no one right way. There is a considerable diversity of views, activities, roles, and living arrangements. This diversity contrasts strongly with the pre-Vatican II con-vents, with their physical proximity to the apostolic work the sis-ters did, their thorough discipline, and their homogeneity of life conditions. Note ~ I later discovered that this was the original European name of a congregation now in the United States with a different name. Bibliography Beane, Marjorie Noterman. 1993. From framework to freedom: A history of the Sister Formation Conference. New York: University Press of America. Eby, Judy, RSM. 2000. "A little squabble among nuns"? The Sister Formation crisis and the patterns of authority and obedience among American women religious, 1954-1971. Unpublished doc-toral dissertation, Saint Louis University. Emerson, Robert M., ed. 1983. Contemporary field research: A collec-tion of readings. Prospect Heights, Illinois: Waveland Press. Merton, Robert K., Marjorie Fiske, and Patricia L. Kendall. 1990. The focused interview: A manual of problems and procedures. New York: Free Press. Powdermaker, Hortense. 1960. Stranger and friend: The way of an anthropologist. New York: W.W. Norton. Quifionez, Lora Ann, CDP, and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN. 1992. The transformation of American Catholic sisters. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Vatican Council H: The conciliar and postconciliar documents and More postconciliar documents. 1975, 1982. Edited by Austin Flannery OP. Northport, New York: Costello Publishing Co. Wittberg, Patricia, SC. 1990. Dyads and triads: The sociological impli-cations of small-group living arrangements. Review for Religious 43, no. 1 (January-February): 43-51. July-August 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Li~ing ¯ 1993. Residence stability and decline in Roman Catholic reli-gious orders of women: A preliminary investigation. Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 32: 76-82. Zajac, Barbara. 1999a. Becoming a nun: A general model of entering religious life. Review for Religious 58 (July-August): 403-423. --. 1999b. Community suicide: Secularization in Catholic nuns with the manipulation of ritual and symbol. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of California, Riverside. Wounded The unseen spider ripped my flesh, and drew blood, nourishment, afresh, and left a black-red crater there: pink, puffy, filled with pus - not fair. A round wound one inch wide oozing fluid down the side. I've been a meal for a foreign beast, stamped with a bump, a spider's feast. This tiny spider sucked sustenance from me, drew life, left a mark, for all to see - how dare he! Am I any different? Don't I do the same? Feed on the Christ, wound him, without shame? Michael J. Lydon Reviev; for Religious JOEL GIALLANZA Expert Practitioners of Union in Community Once upon a time community was uncomplicated, ever a delight in which to witness and work, a constant joy to be and build. Beg your pardon! Are we talking about reality here? Yes, but only by flashback to the language and imagery of a different era. Let me explain. In researching various writings on religious community--most of them published from the 1930s to the early 1960s--I wondered if the lived experience of community during those decades matched the somewhat romantic and idealistic rhetoric about it. I decided that it prob-ably did not; rather, the rhetoric offered encouragement and hope as supports for the lived experience. Religious knew then and continue to experience now the complexity of community life. The word community itself has a complex meaning. It means more than religious living in the same residence. We know that community members may be scattered across cities and even across continents. Another facet includes the personalities and perspectives of the members. Similarity and unanimity are no guarantee that a community is healthy and thriving or even that the members know one another more than superficially. Community encompasses the members' cultures and customs and their ages and attitudes. And so we can ask: How do we recognize one another as members of the Joel Giallanza CSC last wrote for us in May-June 2000. His address is Province Center; 1101 St. Edward's Drive; Austin, Texas 78704. July-August 2002 Giallanza ¯ Expert Practitioners of Union community? Community also encompasses the unique heritage and history of each religious institute and the cast of charac-ters who have lived that heritage and been a part of that history. And there are our own experiences in life and ministry. The complexity of religious community does not diminish its potential for living up to the rhetoric of earlier eras. In truth, it has all the potential with which humanity was invested by God at creation. And yet, when we discuss the many factors currently influencing religious life, the task of formulating an all-encompassing definition or description of community is quite daunting and sometimes discouraging. This perception, this temptation to invest less time and energy in such discus-sions, can have a detrimental effect on the quality of community we hope to build for the future. These present reflections are intended to resist that temptation and to encourage continu-ing efforts to form and live and sustain community. Forming Community In the apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata (hereafter VC), Pope John Paul II writes: "Consecrated persons are asked to be true experts of communion and to practice the spirituality of communion as 'witnesses and architects of the plan for unity which is the crowning point of human history in God's design'" (§46). This is a significant challenge; to be "true experts" at almost anything in our world is a considerable achievement. Being expert practitioners in the spirituality of communion calls for more. John Paul's understanding of communion is incarna-tional: communion does not exist apart from those who strive to live it daily. The etymology of the word "expert" provides an important insight. Often the term is used in a static way, indicating an acquired ability needing little if any further development. The root meaning, however, is quite dynamic: an expert is one who tries and who learns by trying. As a person's ability matures, there are always new approaches to try and new things to learn. The words experiment and experience have the same root. One way, then, of becoming experts in communion is through our experiments and experiences in community. We must keep try-ing and keep learning. Community is never finished. Review f

Issue 61.2 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; Examen .Living with God Growing Older Religious Eife Perspectives MARCH APRIL 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 2 Review for Relig4ous helps people respond and be faithful ~ to God's universal call to holiness by making available ~to them the spiritual legacies that flow from the charisms of CathOlic consecratea life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2002 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written applicatign to the Editor, Review for Religious. L VING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Afin Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp ~Adarmiaens G~.nadu dJoinan S. CFelling Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos'A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CsJ MARCH APRIL 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 2 contents 118 feature Examen: Persons in Relationships Joseph A. Tetlow sJ provides new insights by focusing examen on our many personal relationships in daily life. 129 137 living with God No Rapine in the Holocaust: Eremitical Life Today Karen Karper Fredette surveys some of the different forms eremitical life has taken in a fresh flowering in church life today. Metaphysical Self in Other Mystical Traditions James J. Magee defines metaphysical self as one's self residing in God and God residing in it and then examines this term as it appears in Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, Jewish, and Muslim (Sufl) mysticism. 146 growing older Aging: Spiritually Present to the Burning Bush Geraldine M. Wodarczyk CSFN reflectively enters us into her six-year experience of living among her own congregation's aging and prayerful sisters. Review for Religious 166 Coping with Repetition: A Spirituality for Ministering to the Elderly Helen Jean Novy HM proposes some spiritual considerations to guide our responses to the repetitiousness of sick/elderly people. 169 religious ~i~e perspectives Medaille's "Means" and Religious Life's Renewal Joan Wagner ssJ focuses on six "means" derived from Father Medaille's writings that nourish religious community life. 183 The Decline of Religious Life: A Success Story Michael Dominic W. Ledoux OFM asks whether the next task for religious congregations is to let go of our hold on institutions and ministries and allow them to find a charism based upon their own stories and histories rather than being too strongly attached to religious communal stories. " 191 Membership and Leadership: An Organic Whole Beatrice M. Eichten OSF sketches out the patterns of interworking between leaders and members that enhance effective leadership in community life. flepar men s 116 Prisms 202 Canonical Counsel: Exclaustration: Further Considerations 211 Book Reviews March-April 2002 115 prisms Jesus' transfiguration was a favorite passage of the Jesuit paleontologist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. With his own description of evo-lution progressing by crossing thresholds, he found the transfigured Jesus giving promise of crossing the threshold from being Jesus a marginal Jew to being the risen Christ Pantocrator. Whatever our response to evolutionary theory, the crossing of thresholds gives insight into words and images used to describe the mysteries of our Catholic faith. We seem to be unaware that in faith we have crossed a .threshold between commonsense language and language bursting with faith realities. For exam-ple, our scripture and prayer language in the Lenten and Easter seasons describes redemption as our being purchased at a price. Sometimes this has led to the preaching and imaging of God paying off the devil by Jesus' passion and death. So we--the human race-- were bought at the cost of Jesus' death in order to release us from the grip of the evil one. At other times, it seems that our language has seen God as being appeased or satisfied by the pain and suffering and blood shed by his Son. And we have wondered: What kind of God is this? The New Testament writers built upon the imagery of the Hebrew Scriptures and presumed a poetic under-standing of the religious world. Following Scripture and inspired by their own culture and times, theolo-gians, artists, and spiritual writers over the centuries have all contributed, with mixed results, to various ways of understanding and celebrating the central mystery of our salvation/redemption. In the United States, with R~view for Reli~o~s our sometimes sanitized religious worship removing us from devotional or emotional involvement, we still tend to slip back to a rather morbid focusing on physical pain and the shedding of blood in Lenten prayer and especially in the Holy Week triduum. Perhaps we find ourselves praying with an unhealthy fixation on pain and suffering as the way to God. We need to acknowledge that Holy Thursday has more than just a chronological precedence to Good Friday. The Eucharist is key to a solidly Christian approach to the Passion and Cross, one that is psychologically and spiritually sound and healthy. As St. Ignatius Loyola points out, Jesus' institution of the Eucharist is "the greatest mark of his love." We may be surprised that it is not Jesus' passion and death that help us to understand the Eucharist, but it is the other way around. The Eucharist shows us that Jesus holds nothing back from us in his love. He gives all that he is, sacramentally, to be the food and drink of our life, a life in the same bloodline as God. The word redeemer from its Hebrew derivation points to one taking on the obligations of blood or familial relationship. In itself redeemer does not imply pain or suffering. In the Hebrew Scriptures redeemer describes God in this familial relation to his chosen people. In Jesus we see God fulfilling the redemption of all peoples. By instituting the Eucharist, Jesus intends that the sacramental "nowness" of a blood relationship--the reality of our being adopted as God's sons and daughters--is to be celebrated in our daily living. We have the saying that "love costs." On Holy Thursday Jesus is showing sacramentally that he pays whatever it costs. That is how much he loves us and loves his Father. All our scrip-tural words about payment--ransoming us with his blood, pur-chasing us for a price, and so on--are images, sometimes confusingly used, looking towards the heartfelt truth that "love costs." But God is not paying off anyone. Jesus is not buying us back from the devil. It is the reality that "love costs." Jesus shows us the face of the God who does not count the cost to show his love. The Eucharist is our key to all the events of the Passion and Death. The key presents itself to us every time we look at the crucifix, every time we come forward for Communion. We are invited to cross a faith threshold, thereby experiencing anew God as Love and our identity as beloved. David L. Fleming SJ II7 March-April 2002 JOSEPH A. TETLOW feature Examen: Persons in Relationships You are likely to take account of your relationships with others whe'never you make the examen that St. Ignatius Loyola recommends. But why? Deep down in our own hearts, is there not plenty for God and me to do, without distractions from all sides? Actually, no, and for good reasons. The first reason comes from revelation. The human person is created in the likeness of a God who is One only and also Three Persons. This impenetra-ble mystery reveals to us that each of the Persons has identity only in and through the relations among the Three. It is in that likeness that your own "person" is modeled: you are a person only in your relationships. You will always be your mother's child and your father's offspring, always your siblings' brother or sis-ter. Moreover, it is in and through those relationships and others--teachers, neighbors, friends, even ene-mies- that you have become the person you are. To tell who Jesus of Nazareth is, Matthew begins with a genealogy. After telling about incarnation and birth, he goes right to Jesus' relationship with John the Baptist. Joseph A. Tedow SJ last wrote for us in September-October 1998. His address is Secretariate for Ignatian Spirituality; C.P. 6139; 00195 Roma Prati; Italy. Review for Religious Here is the second reason, closer to the everyday, for doing this exercise. You are always relating to your family, where per-sonhood (self) takes early shape and within which you continue to develop throughout life. You work with others, creating another set of day-to-day relationships. You may belong to a religious community, requiring you to develop a subtle lifelong set of relationships with persons whom God has chosen for you. You may belong to an apostolic team--parish, school, center, hospital, program--which requires cooper-ation and planning. All of these relation-ships require attention and prayer, since "we are all parts of one another" and together we make up the Body of Christ (Rm 12:5). As a very practical matter, this exercise might be a regular part of the prayer of those who work in apostolic partnerships. These are not simple in the church today, and a lot of "personality conflicts" disguise rather dis-orderly emotions and affects. Moreover, a lot of apostolic planning and community planning gets scuttled because of unre-flected- upon personal relationships. Teams and communities commonly blame "the process" for failed planning, when the actual problem is the relationships among the members. This examen, besides helping you know whom to thank God for, helps reveal and even heal such dysfunctional relationships. There are reasons why everyone would benefit from this special exercise. Every life today is plagued in some measure by individualism and alienation. One consequence affects the examen. Even when examining how you are getting along with others, you tend to focus on your own part in the relationship-- "How am I doing?"mand less on the other or on the relation-ship itself. This exercise challenges that focus on the self. It draws you to appreciate, for the right reasons, the people whom God has put into your life. "Each of us should think of our neighbors and help them to become stronger Christians" (see Rm 15:2). You enact individualism by thinking about yourself in isolation rather than in relationships with others. This examen asks you to look directly at the others in your life and the relationships that hold you together in Christ. Every life today is plagued in some measure by individualism and alienation. 119 March-April 2002 Tetlow * Examen Your relationships are where, and the deepest reason why, you exercise the virtues of prudence, justice, fortitude, and tem-perance and a host of others that are needed in order to love the way Jesus loves. Relationships, especially your family and community relationships but also your apostolic and job rela-tionships, are where you give in to sins of pride, covetousness, lust, envy, anger, gluttony, and sloth. If you find this hard to believe, perhaps you really need to do this exercise for a while. Here is the last and ultimate reason to use an examen specif-ically about your relationships: to make sure you are loving the way Jesus loves. Ignatius's Contemplation on Love--the more descriptive title would be "Contemplation to learn to love the way God loves"--begins with two prenotes. The first is that love "ought to manifest itself in deeds rather than in words," and the second is that love consists in constantly sharing, the lover and the beloved giving and receiving in open generosity (SpEx §231). This is how Jesus loves, always in relationship with the Other and the others. This exercise takes you directly to the issue whether you are loving as Jesus loved or are, in actu-ality, doing something else. Practicing the Exercise What is recommended here can be used as a single exercise, in which case it will require a long period of quiet time. It has been used profitably as the material for an eight-day retreat. Once you have gone through it for a while, however, you will know which parts of it to apply on a given day or occasion. You will know that sometimes you need to run through and examine all of your relationships: family, friends, work, community mem-bers, parish council, and so forth. At other times you will want to examine something that has happened, like a disagreement that left you far more unsettled than the matter deserved, or a deci-sion not to phone someone. This exercise will help you to uncover your true purposes, responses, and responsibilities. You can think about one partner or colleague; you can look at one group or committee or team. And so on. (The exercise as it is given here is divided into five sections, following its Ignatian inspiration.) First, taking time to thank God for those whom the Spirit has put into your life. A good way to do this is by making three columns Review for Religious on a sheet of paper. In the first, write some names (parent, sibling, friend, coworker), choosing those who belong to the period you are covering. If you are moving historically through your life, you would begin with parents or grandparents; if you are covering your life situation today, you would name the people with .whom you relate regularly. In the second column, across from each name, write the relationship you have with this person. You might want to add some details beyond a mere title. For instance, to "childhood friend" you might add "first date"; to parent, "died too young"; to colleague, "real partner." This assigning of titles may not be entirely simple. Choosing the appropriate title for a sibling.who is also a lifelong inti-mate friend and a business partner would take some thought--thought precisely about the relationship that you are given and choosing. Then, in the third column, for which you will need plenty of space, describe the relationship you have with this person. How has this person helped shape your self and your life, in the past or more recently? For instance, "rooted me in Christ" about a deeply religious and well-informed parent who established you in your faith. A trust-worthy friend may have told you the truth about yourself and your opinions and decisions, bringing you to know yourself before God. This step will give you grounds for a good deal of thanksgiving. Someone taught you to read and write. Someone showed you how to play your favorite sport. Someone intro-duced you to the Scripture.s. Someone challenged you to for-giveness because he or she not only hurt your feelings but did you harm. Someone may have betrayed you as Judas betrayed your Master. In this examen you probe how you relate to these people, not only how you feel about them, but especially what you have done and are doing in this relationship. In every instance your Creator and Lord is giving you an array of gen-erous gifts, sometimes surprising ones, freely and constantly, gifts for you to be thankful for. There is no gift as great as the gift of a faithful friend or lover who means only good for you. 12I March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen People know that there is, no gift as great as the gift of a faithful friend or lover who means only "good for you. So here is occasion to name the influences that such persons have had on your values and choices. You may well have adopted a friend's special perspective on the church or on parenting. You may become a member of a solid program because a friend invited you into it. You may have made a life-shaping choice under his or her influence. This point is well worth dwelling on, because through these relationships God is moment by moment creat-ing us as persons. Whom has God put into your life to give it shape? How have they shaped it? How do you relate to them? Here is the core of this exercise. Thanking God for these friends and relations will be incom-plete- and perhaps impossible--unless we consciously approve of how God is even now creating us and those we relate with. If you have an elderly parent who is still clear and keenly interested in your life, that is a great gift. An equally great gift is an elderly parent who depends entirely on you. If you have colleagues who depend on you, that is a gift. So is it when there are colleagues on whom you can depend. And sons or daughters will be their parents' sons or daughters forever, however they may be doing just now. The members of a religious community--real persons--are the living environment of each religious's living, growing, and dying. This exercise asks that you grow conscious of a reality we take so much for granted that we do not think about it at all. How often do you note that the sun rose this morning? How much do you value the water that comes from your tap? We treat our relationships rather like that. They are just there. They do not take thinking about except in special circumstances like an argument or a celebration. But every day each relation is a gift greater than today's sun, and each person given you to love and to be loved by is as indispensable to your thriving as the pure water that you drink without giving it a thought. Prayer Lord Jesus Christ, when you walked this earth you lived a family life with neighbors and friends. When you began to spread the Good News, You gathered around you seventy-two, and twelve, and three, who were precious to you, each in a special way, because Review for Religious the Spirit of Love gave them to you. Never has there been a companion better than you, a colleague more trusting and compassionate, a partner more giving and generous. Help me to know those many, those most special ones whom the Spirit of Love has given me in my life, and, with you, to thank the Father for the gift of them. Amen. Second, asking for attention, insight, and courage. Call on the Holy Spirit to let you pay attention to the others in your life. Ask to feel real interest in others, to get outside yourself and your interior concerns to see the people around you as they are. Ask to pay this attention in the way that God does, who hates nothing he has created and lets rain fall on just and unjust alike. Ask for insight into each person and into your relationship. Some are growing more important in your life, and perhaps some are growing away from you. Ask to know how. Ask the Spirit to let you see what you are looking at, and also to let you hear what you are listening to--from and about those whom the Spirit has given you. Finally, beg for the courage to see clearly and to affirm your connections to others, to feel how they have grown into your life and yourself. How have you reached out to them and perhaps risked something to know and love them? Ask boldness to assert your attachments to others, or your detachment and distanc-ing. Ask to be able to see how another or others are calling you to grow or, alternatively, how another or others are inviting you to be less authentic. Prayer Spirit of the risen Lord, who moved the Holy One to care for friends with his still-wounded hands and pierced heart, make me attentive to my friends even with my fearing toudh and wearing spirit. Open my eyes to see what gifts they really are; open my ears to hear what good they really mean to say. Brace my spirit to feel what they need me to feel. And, as you steeled the heart of Jesus while he lived misunder-stood and then betrayed, brace me now--while I find how I have fared in risking my self--to remain true to who I am ~and to be open in giving and receiving love. Amen. March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen Third, examining how relationships are doing. To begin with, stay with relationships that are going well. Simply look down the three columns you have written and note the name, relation-ship, and influence, and let yourself be contented in Christ with this love that falls into his pattern of loving. Using the columns is an effective way of examining relationships, but there are other ways. You could begin with the persons most closely related to you by blood and move out through extended family to friends. Or begin with the people you spend most of your daytime with, colleagues, coworkers, and so on. You could begin with superiors and move to those who answer to you. All of these steps could be limited to a smaller set of people if that would be useful at this time. Then come to those relationship that are not going well. Possible failures are sometimes glaring, like anger or blatantly selfish action, and sometimes quite subtle and complex. For every relationship is triune: one person, the relationship, and another person, and all three matter. Honestly and exactingly lay five templates (to be described below) over each conflicted or faltering relationship. As you con-template your relationship with each person under each tem-plate, demand an account of yourself, for failures in relationships show up in many ways and manifest many personality limitations or flaws, or simple sins. For instance, perhaps you find yourself saying negative things about an old friend's character. What has happened in this r~lationship and what is your responsibility for it? What are you doing or failing to do that damages the rela-tionship, or the mission you share with this person (or persons)? These failures or dysfunctions can be variously accounted for. One way is by looking at them under five categories (which I borrow from Roberta Gilbert's Extraordinary Relationships). The categories will help you look clearly and honestly at any fal-tering relationship. They will demand that you take your respon-sibility for what you have done, what you are doing, what you must do, to make this relationship a strong and holy one. The Templates 1. Conflict. You cannot come to agreement with another in some serious matter. You have never got- Review for Religious ten over a rancorous argument. You answer each other with "yes, but." You are losing respect for the person. You question whether you can ever work together again. Any of these suggests a relationship of conflict, which is often a hot relationship. 2. Distancing. You hold each other at arm's length. You have become very polite to each other and a lit-tle standoffish. You rarely talk about anything serious; instead, you chat. You would deal as openly and warmly with a stranger. You would simply rather not have to pay attention to this person anymore. You are uncomfortable around him or her. This is distancing, and, though it seems to suggest that you have no relationship with this person, you have--a special one. 3. Cutting Off. You stay out of each other's way. You do not communicate even when you have to convey some information. You simply do not like this per-son. Your judgment is that this person is harming the family, community, apostolate. You would like to be rid of this person. This is a cutoff, and it is an intense relationship. 4. Excessive Mutual Dependency. You depend on each other, too much or far too much. One of you makes the decisions. One of you needs the emotional support of the other, and the other needs to give it. Others see you as a pair. You are cutting others out of this relationship, emotionally or practically. This is excessive dependency--in a way, too much of a relationship. 5. Triangling. You have an issue with another and, instead of going to the other, take it to a third person. You find yourself saying things about this person, not to him or h~r, but to others. You gossip about this person. You complain about his or her shortcomings to others, never to the person. Alternatively, you passively allow others to tell you things about this person which they ought to be saying to him or her. 6. Could there be another template? You may find a March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen better term for a ~elationship in your life that is faltering, a term that clarifies for you what you are doing and might do. The Applications When you are on a team with another, you are not free to remain unrelated. The only issue is how you will choose to relate: whether well or badly, creatively or destructively, and, indeed, holily or unholily--all the more, of course, within your own family or among those who have somehow become your friends. Each of the five templates names a relationship--dysfunc-tional, but a relationship. It is crucial to accept that you are related to a person even when you cut him or her off, or are constantly arguing and debating with him or her, or when you are triangling. Humility demands--since it is truth--that you affirm your own contribution to making a relationship bad, or your cooperation in any dysfunctional relationship. Each of your relationships will have its own intensities, its own occasions, its own mixture of the apostolic, social, intel-lectual, affective, and so on. Each lays on you the light yoke of responsibility to accept the relationship as a gift from God, who is giving you freedom and the chance to love as God loves. When you find that one of the templates describes a current relationship, you will have to look into your heart more deeply to find out what is going on. At the same time, you will have to keep aware that the relationship has its own life and tempo, and that there is always "the other" or "the others." Prayer Jesus of Nazareth, my good brother, you worked with many and loved many. You loved aging laborers and the idle rich. You loved holy sisters and disrep-utable women. You worked with tax collectors and scribes. You chose partners who doubted and one who betrayed. You chose them, accounted for your choices to the Father, and stood by your friends to the end. Let me find my way in sureness and in risk, and give me courage to name those I relate to and clarity to know our shared responsibility. Help me to Review for Religious give my account to the Father and to stand by my friends to the end. Amen. Fourth, asking forgiveness for your sins and healing for those you have wounded and for yourself. "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." This is the only condi-tion in the prayer Jesus taught. You cannot overestimate the weight of forgiving others. Yours, after all, is "the ministry of reconciliation," for you are in mission with Jesus Christ. You cannot expect forgiveness and the experience of reconciliation, except to the extent that you have forgiven and become recon-ciled with others. This is no trivial matter, and as good a reason as any to make an examen something like this one. Pray for those whom you have failed, or offended, or hurt. You need to beg the Spirit of Love to make up for your short-comings. Prayer Holy Triune God, in you, giving and taking barely differ since both are done as love. I have taken and not given. I have given what I did not mean to give and not given what I wish I had, so far, so very far, am I from loving as you love. Grant'me to be close to you in this, at least: that I forgive wholeheartedly those who wound me, as Jesus forgave those who wounded him. And then I ask that you forgive me and make up for all that I have left undone. Amen. F~h, choosing to do one thing tomorrow. You are wise to choose a single act to do, a concrete act like making a phone call (some-times the hardest thing you will do that day) or writing a note. Your discernment brings you to see how you can enact your gratitude to God for the people in your life. You take responsi-bility for your part in the relationship, not trying to redeem, but only to help the other and to bring him or her closer to Christ. You may need to focus on one person: to reconcile, to praise or thank, to enjoy being with. You may need to focus on one group of people like your family or community or colleagues. You may need to focus on yourself: to accept that God is making you a unique lover, to accept others' acceptance of you as you are; or, alternatively, y6u may need to address some habit that you see aggravates others or turns them off. Or you may I27 March-~tprll 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen need to see that you really have entered into in a new relation-ship. Or you may need to get ready for a meeting by spending precious time really preparing for it or praying that you.do well. Finally, you may need to focus on some concrete event that is coming up: an interview, a meeting, a confrontation. Or you may need to focus on some long-term development in a relarionship--unsettling conflict, growing distance, emotional-ities-- so that you can take some concrete action. In all of these focuses, you are trying to keep Jesus' own commandment, "Love one another the way I have loved you." Prayer 0 Lord, reconciler of us to ourselves, the whole world and all rime would barely hold all the acts that love demands of us. I beg you to accept the little act that for this time is what I can and would do to learn to love like you. Amen. Annunciation Holy one, favored one, the Lord is with you. Be it bright angel's word or voices in the dark or cannonball or caress, any manner of invitation is prelude to Yes Holy ones, favored ones, the Lord is with us. Eugene Cartier Review for Religious KAREN KARPER FREDETTE No Rapine in the Holocaust: Eremitical Life Today '~e what you are called to be--a passionate seeker of God through continual prayer that allows 'no rapine in the holocaust,'" declares a woman in her seventies dwelling in a rural hermitage in Massachusetts. She emphasizes the total dedication she deems necessary for her chosen vocation--that of a hermit. This apo-dictic statement is culled from 140 responses to a ques-tionnaire sent to 600 hermits and solitaries. The survey was circulated by an international newsletter for her-mits, "Raven's Bread: Food for Those in Solitude." Replies flowed in from such diverse places as New Zealand, French Canada, the Philippines, Bavaria, Ireland, Mexico, and forty of the fifty United States. This twenty-three percent response rate is con-sidered a phenomenal return on a survey and, of itself, says something significant about eremites. Interviewing a single hermit is a rare event; taking the pulse of large enough numbers to determine trends would be an impossible task if eremites themselves were the aloof, people-hating individuals portrayed in popular literature. This survey reveals, however, that Karen Karper Fredette writes from 18065 Highway 209; Hot Springs, North Carolina 28743. 129 March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust a lifestyle seasoned by hours of solitary prayer produces human beings distinguished by hospitality of spirit and a rare compassion. The essential hiddenness of eremiticat life is achieved by blending into one's surroundings. Recent History of Eremitism Even before Vatican Council II, a movement toward solitude and eremitical living had been noted. An historical but almost forgotten intervention at the council by Bishop Remy de Roo initiated a process that resulted in a new canon (c. 603) being written into the revised'Code of Canon Law that appeared in 1983. Bishop de Roo expressed his con-viction that the renewed vitality of the eremitical calling "indicates a special influence of the Holy Spirit, who inspires initiatives beneficial to the church and the modern world." Additionally, de Roo made the prophetic point that recognition of hermits would correct the impression that the practice of poverty, chastity, and obedience is limited to those living communal religious life. The myriad forms of hermit life reported in the recent survey prove the validity of this forecast. When an ancient vocation is recovered, old modalities often prove inadequate and new styles are fashioned. But can one devise a single expression for a call that transcends definitions of religious groups and flourishes among a devout and' occa-sionally unchurched fringe of society? What demographics, if any, can be assigned to an amorphous and largely hidden sub-culture that owns no common affiliation--nor desires any? In an effort to assess the state of eremitical life in the 21st century, the recent questionnaire invited hermits to draw their own demo-graphics. The results have been illuminating and inspiring. ¯ For some of us, a hermit may be living in the next apartment or down the street. Contrary to the caricature of hermits in their far caves, only three out of 140 reporting solitaries live in the "wilderness." A large number (31 percent) dwell in rural areas, but even more (43 percent) are to be' found in urban or Review for Religious suburban settings. Eight of those responding to the survey have chosen a site in the inner city. The essential hiddenness of eremitical life is achieved by blending into one's surroundings in such a way as,~to pass unnoticed even by one's neighbors. Many hermits abhor being singled out and so avoid any identifying sign of their inner dedication to solitude. Others, however, accepting the value of witnessing to a transcendent Reality in our midst, choose a simple habit and seek a recognized status within the church. Their countercultural stance is not militant, but rather a silent encouragement to others that a dif-ferent life is possible from that preached by an all-pervasive consumer society. When and to Whom Does the Call Come? A woman living in the southeastern United States writes: "I first heard the 'call' when I was four years old. I did not know What it meant--I only knew that it shook me to my founda-tion. I married, bore two children, and became a single mother. In my studies for clinical psychology, I discovered the works of Carl Jung. My inner life began shouting for attention. I listened. I shut down my practice, moved, got the children on their feet, and became a solitary. That was twenty years ago." A woman in the Philippines says, "Friends thought I was a fool to give up a secure full-time teaching position in a univer-sity, which sadly didn't leave me space and energy to pursue contemplative living--the one thing that gave meaning to all the rest." A married hermit living in California says, "I was a Hindu monk for five years, but the community did not support my attraction to hermit life." Ninety-eight women and forty-two men responded to the Raven's Bread survey. One-third of these are in their fifties. One-fourth are in their sixties. Only six persons responding are in their thirties. Further data confirms that most received the eremitic call later in life rather than earlier. Twenty-seven percent of those responding said they entered an eremitic lifestyle in their fifties, and twenty percent in their forties. Only eighteen percent followed the call to solitude while in their twenties or thirties. Maturity and life experience are necessary before a person 131 March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust can launch into the rigors of solitary living, though the desire may have been planted much earlier in life. This fact of mid-life transition is an echo of the ideal life-pattern espoused by many Eastern cultures. A person joins a monastery or becomes a monk, not at the beginning of life (except for a brief training period), but only after one has fulfilled family obligations and achieved a certain financial success that one then freely leaves behind. The initial results from the survey indicate that in the Western world the call to solitude replicates this wise rhythm. Good physical health and fitness are the norm among solitary dwellers. Forty-seven percent describe their health as "good," and thirty-eight percent claim "excellent" health. Mental and emotional stability radiate from the responses to the reflec-tion questions that accompanied the survey. For example, a Catholic priest in his fifties writes from an urban hermitage in California: "The grace and essence of solitary living is the abil-ity to live in and be continually conscious of the Presence of God, to become more aware of who one is, to become enlight-ened to see more and more with the vision of God, to struggle to live the compassion of God, to grow in serenity and peace-- in a word, to live the freedom of the children of God." Religious Affiliation and Status The largest number of respondents (92 of 140) are Roman Catholic, but the Anglican, Episcopal, Lutheran, and Baptist churches are also represented. Among the respondents we also find persons from the Society of Friends and Orthodox churches and from various Eastern mystical traditions as well. Of the Christian denominations, Catholicism has the most hermit-friendly atmosphere, but even here eremites frequently mention lack of support and outright discouragement of their aspirations. Of the ninety-two Catholic respondents, only seventeen had been recognized as hermits under canon 603; an additional six had professed a state of consecrated virginity under canon 604. The obstacle to canonical recognition most frequently cited by respondents was the indifference of bishops. Many local ordi-naries were suspicious and expressed unwillingness to allow per-sons to pursue church-sanctioned hermit life in their dioceses. Review for Religious In the United States, only three dioceses are reported in this sur-vey to have more than one hermit living according to canon 603. A woman living in an inner-city neighborhood in England says: "The one and only meeting I had with my present bishop (a Benedictine monk) lasted only a few minutes. I had pressured him into giving me an appointment and had waited eight months to see him. I asked if he would help me become publicly pro-fessed, and he said no. That was it, a monosyllable, no expla-nation, no hesitation, no interest, no concern. I had been living as a hermit for twelve years at that time." Sheila Richardson, who is working on her master's degree in canon law at the University of St. Paul in Ottawa, inquires pointedly: "Are bishops aware of canon 605? This canon requires diocesan bishops to strive to discern new gifts of consecrated life, assist promoters of such lifestyles, and protect these new forms by appropriate statutes." Eremitical life is flourishing without much active support from the establishment. This may well be a blessing, allowing persons seeking to live as hermits or solitaries freedom to devise the form of life that best expresses their aspirations without concern about standards only a select few can meet. Exploring the various categories of individuals who choose a predominantly solitary life, we find 67 single lay persons, 24 married people, 38 members of religious congregations, and 15 ordained ministers, male and female, from six different denominations. Catholic priests who are living as hermits often exercise a limited ministry among people living nearby. They have the permission of their local ordinaries to live in retirement from most of the demands of pastoral ministry and devote the larger portion of their time to the "works" of eremitical life in solitude. Others have established a rhythm of part-time ministry with a certain number of days each week spent in solitude. Another priest is searching: "I am now at the point of decision. I am looking for a hermit-loving bishop where I might support myself by celebrating weekend Masses and confessions, perhaps in some priestless parish. Beyond that, I would be free to live in my own cabin following my own hermit schedule." Being a member of a religious community, whether active or contemplative, does not guarantee understanding of or support March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust for an eremitic calling--something which, incidentally, may arise after a person has faithfully pursued religious life for many years. Thirty-seven of the hermits responding to the survey are still members of religious congregations. But, of the laypersons now living as hermits, sixty percent were members of a religious con-gregation at an earlier stage in their journey. Half of the former religious women claim they left their community so they could follow their attraction to solitude. Many said they were deeply grieved by this "necessity" of departure. Only two of the male religious say that their reason for severing connections with their religious order was in order to pursue solitary life. In other words, twenty-five percent of the men who left religious life did so because they were unable to live solitary life within their com-munities; fifty percent of the women left for the same reason. The most surprising category to surface from an analysis of survey responses is that of married hermit. Strictly speaking, this is a contradiction in terms and one that is hard to justify. But, for those who so identify themselves, the vocation is real and valid. Of the twenty-three respondents who are married, not all claimed to be hermits, but more than half did so. In an effort to understand this phenomenon, the following question was posed: "If you are married and are attracted to solitude, how do you work this out with your spouse?" In reply a woman in Arizona said: "The working out of mar-riage and solitude contains., every contradiction that one can experience in making oneself vulnerable in love to God and the unfolding of God's call in another. Two people can be authen-tically called to solitude and to solitude with each other, but the expressions of it can be so very different. The sharing of phys'ical space has been of great pragmatic concern for us recently--how to arrange our home so it can facilitate simplic-ity of life, prayer, and solitude." A man in Connecticut said: "I decided to separate my own liturgy commitments from my marriage by rising each morning at three for my prayer schedule. Also, I go to bed a little before my spouse to be alone once more in prayer." A woman married to a permanent deacon said: "He shares my attraction to silence and solitude although his ministry is pastoral and mine is mainly prayer. Our small country parish requires very little contact with the people for me. I work qui- Review for Relig4ous etly and prayerfully in the background while he ministers to the people. Everyone seems to understand and accept this arrangement." A woman frankly confesses: "It [attraction to solitude] cre-ated great problems. The marriage ended because we could not work it out. We remained friends." Daily Lifestyles, Daily Problems One hundred and one of the 140 respondents to the sur-vey describe themselves as living alone with significant periods of solitude and prayer. Forty-four of these have a written sched-ule incorporating prayer, work, reading, and relaxation. Eighty-seven of the 140 respondents live an informal mix of these elements. Some of these noted that they had begun with a written schedule that gradually became a more flexible routine. Seventy-eight of the 140 re-spondents pray with others one or more times a week. The most frequent prayer-form cited was meditation. Almost ninety percent find daily periods of meditative prayer a necessity. Nearly as many include Eucharistic Liturgy as part of their daily or weekly prayer routine. Most respondents find special periods of retreat important. Almost half arrange for an "annual r~treat; some manage monthly or even weekly periods of retreat. Penitential practices preferred are fasting and vigils. Almsgiving is important, with forty-three percent giving either in cash or in kind. Thirty-six eremites have made public profession of the evan-gelical counsels. Thirty-eight have committed themselves pri-vately, their vows or promises witnessed by a church-related person. Almost all respondents (103) value spiritual direction, though many said that finding a spiritual guide has been diffi-cult. Forty-seven hermits function as spiritual guides for others. One hundred and one of the 140 respondents to the survey describe themselves as living alone with significant periods of solitude and prayer. 135 March-April 2002 Fredette ¯ No Rapine in the Holocaust The survey listed six areas that could prove problematic for eremites: housing, income, spiritual guidance, relationships with church representatives, physical health, and personal fears and insecurities. The most frequently cited problem is difficulties with church representatives; the next, finding adequate spiri-tual guidance. The expected difficulties of locating a suitable site and generating enough income had proved less trouble-some. In this third millennium of Christianity, eremitical life is experiencing a fresh flowering, with new blooms appearing on the ancient vine. Butthe essence remains the same: "For me, the grace of solitary living is Emptiness," a married hermit member of an oblate Benedictine community states categorically. "No rapine in the holocaust" continues to be the stark demand of solitary life. Lake's Edge At night I hear the motion of the lake. It sighs to its own heart. Foam frosts the weight of wetness flung toward the house where my light burns. I am waiting for the wind to bring the message that I long for, the meaning of breath and motion, and who it is that sends waves pulsing toward this empty shore. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious JAMES J. MAGEE Metaphysical Self in Other Mystical Traditions Ion an article in this journal (1994), I examined the devel-pment of metaphysical self in the writings of eight Christian mystics, concluding with Thomas Merton's definition (1966, p. 180) referring to "the depths of people's hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God's eyes." In short, metaphysical self is the term for one's self residing in God and God residing in it. Respondents to the article took the occa- ¯ sion to point out that metaphysical se/fappears also in the writ-ings of mystics from other religious traditions and recommended that I enlarge the presentation by incorporating some of them. Since these correspondents were women religious more famil-iar than I with these various mystical traditions, I asked them to participate in a monthly online chat room to examine meta-physical self as it appears in Buddhist, Christian, Hindu, Jewish, and Muslim (Sufi) mysticism. Our group of nine has met for the past five years, and this article presents some of the riches these mystical traditions brought to our understanding of meta-physical self. Each month we decided upon two primary sources we would examine in common, one Christian and one from another James J. Magee has written nine articles for our journal, the last in 1994. He is professor of counseling and gerontology at College of New Rochelle; New Rochelle, New York 10805. March-April 2002 tradition. In addition, each of us read the historical and con-textuai introductions preceding the texts or a monograph explaining their specific themes and imagery. At the conclusion of this article is a bibliography of the sources that we found particularly fruitful. Each tradition has its own style, some directly didactic and others more metaphorical. Each elabo-rates upon metaphysical self with novel, arresting paradoxes and engaging imagery that invigorated our familiarity with our own Christian mystics. Each, too, emphasizes the following components of metfiphysical self: the relational, nondualistic rootedness of self in God; transcendent individuality; engaged detachment as an expression of metaphysical self. Throughout this endeavor we dealt with paradoxes and found the most exhil-arating paradox in the power of other traditions to confirm our Christocentric perspective. Residing in God's Unconditional Acceptance This brief sampling of Christian mystics illustrates the con-tinuing emphasis they placed on the-self-residing-in-God: From Meister Eckhart: The soul is so completely one with God that the one cannot be understood without the other. One can think heat easily enough without fire and the shining with-out the sun, but God cannot be understood without the soul nor the soul without God, so utterly are they one. (p. 309) It is God's pleasure and rapture to discover iden-tity, because he can always put his whole nature into it--for he is this identity itself. (p. 167) From Julian of Norwich: Our soul sits in God in true rest, and our soul stands in God in sure strength, and our soul is naturally rooted in God in endless love. (p. 188) Between God and our soul there is neither wrath nor forgiveness. For our soul is so wholly united to God that nothing can interpose . Though we find in ourselves anger, contention, and strife, still we are all mercifully enclosed in God's mildness and meekness. (p. 189) Review for Religious From Catherine of Genoa: My being is God;. my me is God. (W'ilber, p. 72) From Thomas Merton: We know God insofar as we become aware of ourselves as known through and through by him. We "possess" him in proportion as we realize ourselves to be pos-sessed by him in the utmost depths of our being . Our knowledge of God is paradoxically a knowledge not of him as the object of our scrutiny, but of our-selves as utterly dependent on his saving and merciful knowledge of us. (1969, pp. 103-104) Note how this same emphasis appears in the following excerpts from Jewish and Muslim mystics: From the Maggid of Mezhirech: Man's essence is only the soul that is within him, which is a portion of God above. Thus, there is nothing in the entire world except the Holy One. (Uffenheimer) From the Kabbalah: There is nothing that is not pervaded by the power of divinity. God is everything that exists, though every-thing that exists is not God .Nothing is devoid of its divinity. (Matt, 1995) From Rumi: Remember God so much that you are forg9tten, until you are lost in the Call, without distinction of caller and called. (Breton and Largent, p. 23). You are my face. No wonder I can't see you. (Breton and Largent, p. 168) From 'Abd Allah Ansari (Kwaja 'Abdullah Ansari): One went to the door of the Beloved and knocked. A voice asked, "Who is there?" He answered, "It is I." The voice said, "There is no room for Me and Thee." The door was shut. Mter a year of sOlitude and depri-vation, he returned and knocked. A voice from within asked, "Who is there?" The man said, "It is Thee." The door was opened for him. (p. 94) O God, I possess that mirror in which you are reflected. Rather, I am that mirror. You are not sepa-rate from me. (p. 196) From Fakhruddin 'Iraqi: 139 MarchoApril 2002 The EternalOcean spews forth new waves. "Waves" we call them, but there is only. the Sea. (p. 77) From Ibn Al'Arabi: As in the case of a mirror and the beholder, he sees the form in it, but does not see the mirror itself. In your seeing your true self, He is your mirror and you are His mirror in which He sees nothing other than Himself. (p. 65) Through the intimate imagery and ecstatic directness that pervade these writings, the mystics of three monotheistic traditions seem to strain the point that, while human beings par-ticipate in the divine nature, they never become the essence of God. Their mystical reach, on the other hand, does touch upon that mystery which "no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love Him" (1 Co 2:9). The mystics intuit that persons are not dualistically separated from God, but "closely united with God in a love that is always moving toward oneness" (Johnston, p. 124). Transcending Individuality The Christian Scriptures address a second characteristic, the quality of relationships that proceed from metaphysical self. This characteristic also reappears in the mystical literature of other traditions, and our group members were able to find these paraphrases about metaphysical self-transcending indi-viduality: "Love is not self-seeking; it is not prone to anger; neither does it brood over injuries" (1 Co 13:5) becomes, in Rumi, the Sufi mystic, "Love has no calculating in itT' (Breton and Largent, p. 9) "Thanks be to God, who unfailingly leads us on in Christ's triumphal train, and employs us to diffuse the fragrance of his knowledge everywhere" (2 Co 2:14) occurs in Rtimi as "Vv~hether they know You or not, all creatures bend but toward You. M1 love for some-one else is but a whiff of Your perfume." (Breton and Largent, p. 141) "For I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink" (Mt 25, 35) appears; Review for Religious in the Bhagavad Gita, as "Any offering--a leaf, a flower, or a fruit, a cup of water--I will accept it if given with a loving heart." (Mitchell, 2000, p. 118) "Let us profess the truth in love" (Eph 4:15) is, in the Bhagavad Gita, "Speak the truth with kindness, honesty that causes no pain." (Mitchell, 2000, p. 178) These mystical sources echo the scriptural message that in human beings metaphysical self is inherently relational. Each of us is a seat of consciousness and an experiencing agent with-out being independent of others. Aitken and Steindl-Rast go so far as to say: "Underlying 'Love thy neighbor as thyself' has to be the experience that the other is no other than myself" (p. 113). Engaged Detachment During our years of meetings, members recognized a third characteristic, engaged detachment, as the way metaphysical self conducts itself in the world. This oxymoron refers to the readiness to invest ourselves in causes, tasks, and relationships while remaining ready to foi'go achieving our goals. It focuses upon process, both the deservingness of the activity at hand and the affirmation that we shall die unfinished, our potential only partly realized, and that completion is ultimately God's work and not our own. The different traditions of mystical writings repeatedly express this theme: From Julian of Norwich: God does not want his servants to despair because they fall often and grievously; for our falling does not hin-der him in loving us. (p. 188) From Paul Tillich: You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you . Do not seek for anything; do not intend anything. (Church, p. 180) From Anthony de Mello: There is no clinging to a classical symphony and no hastening it. One does not wait till the end to enjoy . it, but takes in every note, every chord as it comes and lets it go to welcome the next uninterrupted flow. Any attempt to stop the performance, any "attachment" to 14! March-April 2002 Nlagee ¯ Metaphysical Self a single note, will ruin the symphony. (p. 164) From the Tao Te Ching: A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent upon arriving. (Mitchell, 1988, p. 27) The Tao gives birth to all beings, creating without possessing, acting without expecting, guiding without interfering. (Welch, p. 41) From the Bhagavad Gita: With no desire for success, no anxiety about failure, indifferent to results, surrendering all thoughts of out-come, unperturbed, he does nothing at all, even when fully engaged in actions. There is nothing that he expects. (Mitchell, 2000, p. 75) From Fakhruddin 'Iraqi: Give up desire. Think that whatever you get is what you want, and in this acceptance find ease and joy. Renounce desire a hundred times. (p. 114) Engaged detachment, like the other characteristics of meta-physical self, is paradoxical. It invites a response of passive atten-tiveness wisely expressed in this admonition from the poet Rainer Maria Rilke: Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart. . Try to love the contradictions themselves. Do not now seek resolutions, which cannot be given because you would not be able to live them, and the point is to live everything. Live the contradictions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the resolutions. (p. 97) Imagery, Paradox, Complementarity, Love The imagery, metaphors, and paradoxes which other mys-tical traditions use to illuminate the nature of mystical se/famplify and complement the attention Christian mystics center upon on this theme. The artfulness of these other sources can help sustain us both in the apophatic ~loud through which Christian mystics typically view mystical self and in the relaxed tena-ciousness of our commitment to love others as ourselves. Review for Religious References 'Abd Allah Ansari, 1978. Intimate conversations. New York: Paulist Press. Aitken, R., and D. Steindl-Rast. 1996. The ground we share. Boston: Shambala. Breton, D., and C. Largent. 1998. Love, soul, and freedom: Dancing with Rumi on the mystical path. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden. Church, E 1987. The essential Tillich. New York: Macmillan. de Mello, A. 1992. One minute nonsense. Chicago: Loyola University Press. Fakhruddin 'Iraqi. 1982. Divine flashes. New York: Paulist Press. Ibn Al'Arabi. 1980. The bezels of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Johnston, W. 2000. "Arise, my love . . .": Mysticism for a new era. Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books. Julian of Norwich. 1978. Showings. New York: Paulist Press. Magee, J. 1994. "Shame, mystical writers, and a spirituality of self." Review for Religious 53, no. 5 (September-October): 746-752. Matt, D. 1995. The essential Kabbalah. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, p. 25. Meister Eckhart. 1986. Meister Eckhart: Teacher and preacher, ed. B. McGinn. New York: Paulist Press. Merton, T. 1966. Conjectures of a guilty bystander. New York: Doubleday. Merton, T. 1969. Contemplative prayer. New York: Herder and Herder. Mitchell, S. 1988. Tao te ching. New York: Harper and Row. Mitchell, S. 2000. Bhagavadgita. New York: Harmony Books. Rilke, R. 1978. When silence reigns: Selected prose. New York: New Directions. Uffenheimer, R. 1993. Hasidism as mysticism. Princeton: Princeton University Press, p. 74. Welch, H. 1966. Taoism: The parting of the way. Boston: Beacon. Wilber, K. 1983. Up from Eden. Boulder, Colo.: Shambala. Bibliography of Easily Accessible Sources Sources in Christian mysticism appear in the series Classics of Western Spirituality (Paulist Press). Sources for Buddhist and Taoist mysticism Da Liu. 1986. Tai chi ch'uan and meditation. New York: Schocken Books. Deng Ming-Dao. 1990. Scholar warrior: An introduction to the tao in everyday life. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. 143 March-April 2002 Magee ¯ Metaphysical Self Kohn, L. 1993. The taoist experience: An anthology. Albany: State University of New York Press. Merton, T. 1968. Zen and the birds of appetite. New York: New Directions. Mitchell, S. 1988. Tao te ching. New York: Harper and Row. Reps, P. 1957. Zen flesh, Zen bones: A collection of Zen and pre-Zen writ-ings. Rutland, Vermont: C.E. Turtle. Thich Nhat Hanh. 1987. The miracle of mindfulness: A manual on med-itation. Boston: Beacon. Watson, B. 1968. The complete works of Chuang Tzu. New York: Columbia University Press. Wei, H. 1987. The authentic I Ching. North Hollywood, Calif.: Newcastle. Sources for Hindu mysticism Dehejia, V. 1994. The legend of Rama: Artistic visions. Bombay: Marg Publications. Heehs, P. 1998. The essential writings of Sri Aurobindo. New York: Oxford University Press. Jack, H. 1989. The Gandhi Reader. New York: Grove Press. Krishnamurti, J. 1994. On conflict. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Mitchell, S. 2000. Bhagavadgita. New York. Harmony Books. Ramakrishna Vedanta Centre. 1972. Women saints of East and West. London: Ramakrishna Vedanta Centre. Shukla, S. 1999. The Upanishads. Fremont, Calif.: Asian Humanities Press. Sivaraman, K. 1989. Hindu spirituality. New York: Crossroad. Vetter, H. 1997. The heart of God: Prayers of Rabindranath Tagore. Boston: C.E. Tuttle. Sources for Islamic mysticism 'Abd Allah Ansari. 1978. Intimate conversations. New York: Paulist Press. Breton, D., and C. Largent, C. 1998. Love, soul, and freedom: Dancing with Rumi on the mystic path. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden. Chittick, W.C. 1983. The Sufi path of love: The spiritual teachings of Rumi. Albany: State University of New York Press. Ernst, C. 1984. Words of ecstasy in Sufism. Albany: State University of New York Press. Fakhruddin 'Iraqi. 1982. Divine flashes. New York: Paulist Press. Ibn Al'Arabi. 1980. The bezels of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Review for Religious Ibn A1-Sabbagh. 1996. Mystical teachings of Al-Shadhili. Chicago: Kazi Publications. Ibn 'Ata' Illah. 1978, The book of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Massignon, L. 1982. The passion of A1-Hallaj, mystic and martyr of Islam. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Schimmel, A. 1987. As through a veik Mystical poetry in Islam. New York: Columbia University Press. Sharafuddin Maneni. 1980. The hundred letters. New York: Paulist Press. Sources for Jewish mysticism Ben Joseph, A. 1987. Book of formation (Sepheryetzirah). San Francisco: Holmes. Ben Zion, R. 1984. Anthology of Jewish mysticism. Brooklyn, N.Y.: Judaica Press. Cohn-Sherbok, D. 1995. Jewish mysticism: An anthology. Rockport, Mass.: Oneworld. Jacobs, L. 1997. Schocken book of Jewish mystical testimonies. New York: Schocken Books. Kamenetz, R. 1998. Stalking Elijah: Adventures with today's Jewish mys-tical masters. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Kook, A. 1978. The lights of penitence, New York: Paulist Press. Matt, D. 1983. Zohar: The book of enlightenment. New York: Paulist Press. Matt, D. 1995. The essential Kabbalah: The heart of Jewish mysticism. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Nahman of Bratslav. 1980. The tales. New York: Paulist Press. Scholem, G. 1995. Major trends in Jewish mysticism. New York: Schocken Books. NEW ON OUR WEBSITE Searchable indexes of Review for Religious articles from January 1970 to the current issue Abstracts of the lead articles of the January 1997 isshe to the current issue and summaries of the others Complete text of A Spirituality for Contemporary Life: The Jesuit Heritage Today edited by David Fleming SJ and containing articles by J.J. Mueller SJ, Walter Burghardt SJ, David Fleming SJ, Monika K. Hellwig, Jon Sobrino SJ, Elizabeth Johnson csJ, and John W. Padberg SJ www.reviewforreligious.org -4 45 larch-, Jpril 2002 GERALDINE M. WODARCZYK Aging: Spiritually Present to the Burning Bush growing older For months now I have written multiple reflections on aging. They are connected with a book by Jane Marie Thibault2 She says that in later life people are invited to contemplation and that there should be contem-plative communities for the elderly. My congregation is 127 year old, and I have lived among aging and prayerful sisters for decades. I sought to formulate a theology of aging based on the spirituality of our foundress, Frances Siedliska. But, in spite of a wealth of material, no formulation presented itself. And so, with encouragement from Sister Judith Nero OSB, my local mentor for the gerontological program, I decided on a different focus, simply writing about my ministry experiences at Holy Family Manor. What are those experiences, and what are they calling me to in my own life? Perhaps, like Moses, I have discovered a "burning bush" and here, on holy ground, I learn of God. Geraldine M, Wodarczyk CSFN wrote this paper originally in a gerontological pastoral care program at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota. Her address is Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth; 285 Bellevue Road; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15229. Review for Religious Years ago Sister Mary Paul Krasowski gave me a copy of a poem by an unknown author: The Moses in my heart trembles not quite willing to accept the prophet hidden in my being wondering how much it will cost to allow the prophet to emerge. O child of unnecessary shoes cast them off and stand in readiness on this awfully holy ground! For the Egypt in people's hearts demands that you see the burning bushes all around you aflame and burning wildly calling you forth away from the comfort of well-protected feet. The ground you stand on is holy! Take off your shoes believe in your Moses and go. Sister Mary Paul gave.me a copy a second time, when I was the superior at the Manor, my "holy ground" for the past six years. I realized that during this time I had been called to accept the prophet in me, and in others, as we search for God in our every-day realities. I have seen the Egypt in the hearts of sisters and heard their cry for freedom sung in many ways. Within the evening solitude that these days provided me, I discovered the Egypt within my own heart and heard a call to let go of false securities of my own and to find new freedoms within me. I have been present to "burning bushes" of experience with seasoned older sisters. In ways I never expected, God touched my life and called me from the comfort zone where I was six years before. 147 March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging With Fear and Trepidation In 1990, when first asked to consider being superior of the Manor, I flatly refused. I was already superior of a small convent of four sisters. I was engaged in full-time ministry as the province councilor for formation, and together with my brother, who was just beginning a family in Wisconsin, I was sharing long-distance care of our widowed father in Erie, Pennsylvania, who was steadily moving to a new stage of frailty in his life. These were the reasons I gave my provincial, but another rea-son was that I had never been present at anyone's death. Terrified, I could not imagine living where I would need to be present to sisters as they died. Time passed. In 1993 our father's condition became worse. When notified, I knew the seriousness of Dad's condition, but did not realize that, with the physician, my brother and I would be making decisions that Dad was not able to make about his failing life. As Divine Providence would have it, I was in Erie when decisions about the breathing and cardiac machines needed to be made, and I was present during Dad's last hours and death. I learned that a broken heart is a real experience. I was changed, and so in 1994, when a new provincial asked me about being superior of Holy Family Manor, I said I would be willing. The provincial was taking seriously the choice of the superior. First, after asking the sisters living in the Manor for suggestions and reviewing the list, she and her council had three sisters come to a mandatory day of reflection in a small cottage on our motherhouse grounds. Our retirement home had sixty-nine beds and sixty-six sisters at various stages of aging. The retreat director, Sister Ann Winschel CDP, invited us to consider our gifts and what might be our stumbling blocks in accepting the ministry. I went to my room in the cottage and prayed with open hands, letting God put there what I needed and giving God the freedom to take away any drawbacks to my willingness to accept this ministry. For most people, praying with open hands is a simple gesture, but for me--with hands affected by rheumatoid arthritis--the gesture spoke of my own human brokenness. Could God really want me, already a broken vessel, to shep-herd these senior religious in their last days? At the end of the retreat, after sharing our personal reflec- tions, we were asked to express our final decision in a letter to the provincial. I wrote of openness to the ministry, my aware-ness of my gifts in working with the elderly, and my recognition that I could use them only in the context of my own brokenness. I qualified my openness by saying that, if I had an incapacitating flare-up of the arthritis, I would take it as an indication that this service was not appropriate for me. Three months later my provincial telephoned me, saying that the council had unani-mously chosen me the next Manor superior. She wanted me to take some preparation time with the current superior, attend the upcoming American Society of Aging conference, and offi-cially begin on the first of May. On Sunday, 30 April 1995, in the early afternoon, I arrived at the Manor. I was scheduled to be in the chapel for a wel-coming prayer and commitment service at four o'clock. The previous superior had already left. Three sisters were waiting for me at the door, welcoming me with one breath and asking with another, "You will take us to the festival at Mr.Assisi, won't you?" Barely gathering my belongings from the auto-mobile and putting them in my room, I welcomed the excur-sion (a five-minute trip) to the Franciscan sisters' festival. Though a busy place, it was a respite where I could amble with-out any focus on the fears and anticipation that were part of me at this transition moment. We returned home and soon four o'clock came. In the presence of the retired sisters, the provincial asked me several questions: Will you accept this responsibility [to be local leader] which the sisters have confided in you? Do you promise to serve the sisters in kindness, compassion, and charity, in the spirit of our blessed foundress, Frances Siedliska? Will you strive to be faithful to the Covenant of Love [our constitutions] and the directives of your general and provincial superiors? Responding affirmatively, I was given a bouquet of roses by the provincial and was told: "Your ministry as servant leader will be a mixed blessing. Both joy and sorrow, possibility and I could not imagine living where I would need to be present to sisters as they died. !49 ~¥larch-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging impossibility, success and failure will accompany you. These roses, themselves offering both beauty and pain, are given to you with our gratitude for accepting this mission." After the sisters voiced their support, I recited the following: As I approach this ministry of servant leadership, I pray: Hollow out in me, O God, a space in which I will find myself, find peace and a whole heart, a for-giving spirit and holiness, springs of laughter, and the will to reach boldly for abundant life for myself, this local community, and the whole human family. Grant me your peace, instill in me such awe of you as will make me wise, and such quiet courage as will enable me to make hope visible, forgiving delight-ful, loving contagious, faith liberating, and peace-mak-ing joyful. Shape my weakness into compassion and help me to make myself open and present to my sisters, to oth-ers, and to your kingdom. Amen.2 And so I began my sojourn as the convent superior of our retire-ment community. Except for my Franciscan festival invitation, my first encounter with one of the sisters came that evening, when Sister Maura3 told me, "On behalf of the entire community here at Holy Family Manor, .I want to tell you it is too cold in this build-ing." "Temperatures!" I thought; "after that profoundly religious service, I am supposed to adjust thermostats!" And so it was-- God was inviting me to listen to the concerns of everyday life, the little things that are so important in these sisters' lives. The Power of the Word The next morning I had an announcement to make in the first-floor dining room, where forty sisters sat. Besides some trembling, my voice did not carry well, especially for the good number with impaired hearing. Finally I got the message across. Shortly thereafter, a sister from the second-floor dining area came complaining that I did not give the sisters there any message. What was I to do? The next day I typed out some items of common interest and posted them in the elevator, Review for Religious thereby causing traffic jams. Sisters would ride up and down until they finished reading the note. I realized that we needed copies of the newsletter posted in various places, including the elevator. This simple arrangement, providing this large num-ber of sisters direction for the coming day, also informed them about what was happening in our home. Was this communication episode a "burning bush" in which I found God? At least I learned how impoytant the communi-cated word is to people, and that it could promote love and caring in this household. It calmed the fears of the sisters who wondered about who was in the house: other sisters, guests, contractors, maintenance work-ers. The daily newsletter included a prayer request list and kept the sisters informed about the health progress of the sisters in the hos-pital. The newsletter invited the sisters to share a joke as well as to request prayer for themselves I learned how important the communicated word is to people, and that it could promote love and caring. or others. It became their newsletter. It provided a source of unity and dismantled some rumors that institutions readily give rise to. It hung for twenty-four hours at eight places in the building. Each of us had plenty of time to return to it to get the news of the day. There is a power in the written word. It is a way love can be communicated. Isn't the Word the way God communicates the greatness of Divine Love? And did the Word not become incarnate in the most simple and humble way? Perhaps in some small way the newsletter really was a "burning bush." The Joy of the Resurrection After living a short while in the Manor, I noticed a heavi-ness- sadness in the sisters' demeanor, depressive postures; even the daily Masses were in remembrance of the deceased. Although all the bedrooms are quite alike, some were considered "dying rooms," and sisters shuddered at the thought of being placed there. March-April 2002 V~odarczyk * Aging When I arrived at the Manor in the midst of spring, I was still flesh with the message of the Easter season's life-giving liturgical readings. One reading kept coming back to me, the one about the women returning to the tomb who were asked, "Why do 3iou search for the Living One among the dead?" (Lk 24:5). One day these words, stirring in my h.eart, became reversed. I heard, "Why do you search for the dead among the living?" Something changed within me, and I realized how alive, even with some physical limitations, these sisters were. I knew that I needed to foster that life of theirs. I knew that I should help them help each other to build a happy life within this retirement community. By Pentecost I looked for the evi-dence of the Spirit as we tried new things and reviewed old practices. What brought the gifts of "love, joy, peace, patient endurance, kindness, generosity, faith, mildness" (Ga 5:22-23) that Paul spoke about? The things that brought such results to the majority of the community would be fostering and increas-ing in the sisters the new life of Easter. How else does God speak to us and affirm our actions except by the gifts of the Holy Spirit? In late May 91-year-old Sister Ellen was rushed to the hos-. pital in excruciating abdominal pain. "A perforated bowel," the doctor told me and asked, "What do you want me to do? I don't think that Sister could survive the surgery." Asking Sister, who was fully conscious, was to me the obvious thing to do. The doctor explained the options: surgery or palliative care. Sister Ellen looked at me with the most trusting eyes. "You are my superior," she said. "Whatever you decide will be God's will for me." I could not believe my ears, nor was I prepared for this responsibility she placed on me. She remained adamant. "I trust that your decision is God's will for me." I had not been reared in religious life with that degree of surrender put into a supe-rior's hands. Mine was a formation toward dialogue, toward coming to a mutual decision. She, however, simply continued to insist. From her primary-care physician, I learned that Sister Ellen had specifically said a few weeks earlier that she never wanted another surgery. When I managed to contact our provin-cial superior, who was traveling in Europe, she concurred with the decision for palliative care. Review for Religious I remain humbled by the trust Sister Ellen placed in me. I learned that being an instrument of God in these sisters' lives is something very serious indeed. I learned of my own need for prayer and intimacy with a God who, though transcendent, is immanently present to us and our decisions. Second Floor: 0 God, Are You There? A visitor to our Manor told me happily that her little boy would be three years old in a couple of weeks. On hearing that, he began to cry, "I don't want to be three, Mommy." Holding her tearful child, she said to me: "When he turns three he has to go to the next room in the day care. He doesn't want to take that step." It can be like that with the elderly, too. In conversations with oth-ers who deal with the elderly, I have found that there is always some place where res-idents do not want to go. It may be called the A wing or Mary's Corridor or something sim-ilar. In our convent it is simply called "the second floor." It is where those needing the most care live. Agreeing to live on the second floor is, for some of us, accepting death--even though, in reality, it may be years away. When I came to the Manor, the frailest sisters on the sec-ond floor would sit or recline in geri-chairs in a semicircle in what was called the solarium. These sisters were clean and well kept, but some would randomly yell out a prayer, a request, a humorous remark, or something incoherent. When people passed by Sister Lynnette--her parochial school teaching over and end-stage Alzheimer's drawing near--she would insist, "Line up for the fire drill, without talking!" If you did not do so, your misbehavior called for discipline. Although humorous, these moments were also sad, for Sister Lynnette had been such an excellent teacher. Many sisters shied away from the second floor, and espe-cially the solarium, where these frail sisters spent long days, I have found that there is always some place where residents do not want to go. March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Agigg still as icons. This comparison struck me as I read some words of Henri Nouwen: Icons are not easy to "see." They do not immediately speak [appeal] to our senses . They do not reveal themselves to us at first sight. It is only gradually, after a patient, prayerful presence, that they start speaking to us. And, as they speak, they speak more to our inner than to our outer sense. They speak to the heart that searches for God.4 The frailest sisters on the second floor "do not reveal them-selves," or the Holy, immediately. It is only after I become prayerfully present to them that their presence, in their dimin-ished physical or mental condition, speaks to my heart. They tell me about life's brevity, about our dependence on God, and show that we are only pilgrims here. One day I took a visiting priest acquaintance to see our treasured sisters on the second floor. He began preaching to them about their duty to contemplate. With blank faces they just looked at him. A confused embarrassment seized him, and he became speechless. There was nothing more to say. Later I wondered if these sisters are in the contemplative state of being in God's wordless embrace. One cannot know such secrets. These sisters, and we ourselves, spend lives desiring such close-ness. But, because they and we have also spent years seeking responsible and prudent control of our lives, such vulnerability, such complete dependence on God and on others, is likely to be fraught with fear as well. On a recent visit to Pittsburgh, Trappist monk Thomas Keating, founder of Contemplative Outreach, spoke to an ecu-menical group gathered at another Franciscan motherhouse. He spoke of the prayerful consent that is part of Centering Prayer, for fostering contemplative experience. He spoke of the call to follow Christ and to let go of possessions--not external possessions so much as interior ones, the baggage of attitudes that we carry with us (in his phrase, the false self). At one point he looked up at the' choir loft, where the frailest of the com-munity's sisters were. He spoke directly to them, taking note of their willing acceptance of their present frailty, their loss of health, their losses of young self-reliance and of status in the community. He saw their disabilities as precious gifts from God, Review for Religious things to be grateful for. His words reminded me of my own sisters on the second floor. But to accept diminishment with gratitude is not easy. Solidarity with Suffering A few footsteps away from my office, my belief in the cru-cified and resurrected Christ was tested. Suffering is a mystery. We do not want to see others suffer, nor do we want suffering in our own lives. When faced with the suffering of people we love, what is our response? Henri Nouwen says: A friend who was very ill had a great devotion to Mary, the mother of Jesus, and derided to make a pilgrimage to Lourdes to ask for healing. When she left, I was afraid that she would be disillusioned if no miracle happened. But on her return she said, "Never did I see so many sick people. When I came face-to-face with that human suffering, I no longer wanted a miracle. I no longer wanted to be the exception. I experienced a deep desire to be one of them, to belong to these wounded people. Instead of praying for a cure, I prayed that I would have the grace to bear my illness in solidarity with them. And I trust that the mother of Jesus will bring my prayer to her Son."s As for myself, I have never come to the point of wanting "to be one of them." I desire to be well. But so did this dear woman on her way to Lourdes for healing. Is true healing the ability to love so deeply that we long to share others' intense pain and sorrow? That is what Jesus did. When we are young, we find many ways to escape that question and that reality. As we age and see diminishment in ourselves, our families, and our friends, the question returns. That call to solidarity in suffering is a difficult call to hear, especially when the time actually comes for us to visit--or move to--the "second floor." Sacrament of the Present Moment - Even in Dementia "Where am I going?" she asks, her body slumped. The eyes, once sparkling with joie de vivre, now are dim, like smoldering wicks. "I can understand," she says, "why, without faith, one155 March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging could commit suicide. Not that I want to," she says, "but I understand. I know why others would do this." Coming out of my own uncomfortable search for something to say, I ask, "Do you have faith? . Why, yes, I do." But soon she is asking, "What should I do? What is happening to me?" These words rose in her during the initial stages of Alzheimer's. It is easy to agree with the maxim that "a mind is a terrible thing to waste." In a group where many have been educators, the relentless decline of mental acumen is truly frightening. In this place, you can imagine the ardor one brings to reading the "Nuns' Study" !6 In the light (or darkness) of this feared disease, a faith per-spective does not come easy, even in a congregation whose motto is "Thy will be done." I needed to be reverently present to any-one who was concerned about Alzheimer's, just as I did to those showing symptoms of it. I needed to be cautious about explain-ing away dementia-with pious sayings or even a quick quota-tion from Scripture. For many months Sister Mary would stalk me, particularly at sundown. Even when I did not initially see her, I could sense her presence and her foreboding look. I had learned earlier that I should keep touch with my own inner experience when relat-ing to others. With Mary, the more I avoided her physically and psychologically, the more she pursued and pressured me. Her cognitive impairment was becoming worse. I would think, "Oh, here she is, pestering me again!" or "She's got dementia. She doesn't know what she's talking about." One time she was particularly adamant: "How awful to be on the second floo!! How cruel you were to put me there!" And on and on, in a sort of frenzy. I wondered, "What ever happened to that loving and supportive friend I had for so many years?" I thought of relat-ing to her as a simple matter of"how to handle a difficult situ-ation." I thought of Christ being in her, but was far from experiencing it. Worn down by her raving, I was wondering if she had received her medication. I called the nurse to ask. Sister Mary heard me and said, "You think medication is going to take care of this? You are not around and you think medicine is going to cure this? That's not the way! That's not the way!" My "quick and appropriate solution"--so that I could be about more Review for Religious "important" things--stirred up more mistrust in Sister and greater frustration in me. Then my faith invited me to adopt a new perspective. I paused, put aside other matters, sat face-to-face with her, and listened. Soon both of us were at peace. After a while she returned to her room for the evening. This scenario occurred more than once. Afterwards, pondering the healing that took place when I was more present to her, I realized that there is a sacramentality in such moments. Jean-Pierre de Caussade says: There is never a moment when God does not come forward in the guise of some suffering or some duty, and all that takes place within us, around us, and through us both includes and hides his activity. Yet, because it is invisible, we are taken by surprise and do not recognize his operation until it has passed by us. If we could lift the veil and if we watched with vigilant attention, God would endlessly reveal himself to us, and we should see and rejoice in his active presence in all that befalls us. At every event we should exclaim: "It is the Lord!''7 Can I be alert to this potential revelation of God the next time I am stalked by one of my own sisters? When people complain to me about the odd behavior or mental confusion of a dear friend of theirs, can I help them see Christ's presence in the situation? How do I do that? Caussade reminds us of the power of faith: It is faith which interprets God for us. Without its light we should not even know that God is speaking, but would hear only the confused, meaningless bab-ble of creatures. As Moses saw the flame of fire in the bush and heard the voice of God coming from it, so faith will enable us to understand his hidden signs, so that amidst all the apparent clutter and disorder we shall see all the loveliness and perfection of divine wisdom.8 Seeking Life's Deeper Meaning A few years ago Sister Mary Stella came to my office quite excited about the prospect of winning a car or money for the 157 Vlarch-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging community. A piece of mail had informed her that she had been "selected to win." I tried to explain to her about the money-maEing ploy of these contests. She insisted: "Fill it out for me. I can't see!" Hoping that somewhere in this experience there would be a teachable moment, I filled out the form and mailed it. A few weeks later she received a "free" watch. "See," she told me, "I am already winning! I will really help the congre-gation when the check arrives." Not long after the watch came, Sister was billed $75 for a magazine subscription. She called me to her room. Obviously upset, she said she did not have the money for this subscription and believed that, if she canceled it, she would be responsible for the salesperson's losing her job. "I should have listened to you," she lamented. My teachable moment had arrived! Though I was angry about companies that exploit senior citizens, I gently explained to her that this is an advertising gimmick, that all she needed to do was write "cancel" on the bill and mail it back; the matter would be over. She listened. I left the room thinking all was well. But within a few days Sister stopped eating. She did not come to morning Mass. She stayed in her room, depressed and despondent. Noticing this, I spent some extended time with her, but she was silent. She wanted to see a priest. I called the Franciscan priest who often served us, and he paid her a pastoral visit. Her depression lingered. I visited her again. She still lamented, "I can't pay the bill, and the poor man will lose his job." Her suffering was evident. Her sheltered and "precomputer" life did not prepare her to understand today's big-business advertising. So I listened, and then I suggested that we write the man a letter with an apology, explain her cur-rent financial situation, and return the watch. Her eyes lit up at the prospect. Together we composed a letter, which she signed and I mailed. In a few days she was back to normal. A few months later her health declined, simply by reason of her advancing age. When I visited, she looked up at me from her bed and with a most peacef~l look said, "I will never forget your gentleness to me when I thought I would win that money. You were so kind." The entire episode showed us God's grace working in both our lives. I continued to see how greatly these older sisters desire to contribute to the congregation. Review for Religqous Supporting the congregation financially gave meaning to the sisters all their lives, even as they themselves led a frugal existence. They had experienced the Depression firsthand and had stories to tell about begging alongside factories, begging h0use-to-house for summer stipends, or asking for funds by writing letters to family and friends. Today, for some, lotteries and various contests appear to be another source of financial support for the congregation. One sister, clear-minded at ninety-nine, had a lucky streak. Although she lived frugally, I heard rumors of her "having money." Family and friends would buy her lottery tickets and then cash them in for her when she mailed back the winning ticket. Although I was "out of the loop" of direct information about these transactions, I somehow always found out about them. Though some might find gambling question-able in light of the vow of poverty, I waited to see what would happen eventually, since Sister's participation connected her to others and caused no harm. Sometimes months would pass between rumors of her winnings and her eventual cash donation of $200 or $300. The happiness she radiated sent the message that even at ninety-nine she could contribute to the community. She rarely wanted anything for herself. Suspicions about a breach of her vow disappeared. I have often noticed with what pride the sisters contribute their Christmas, birthday, Easter, and anniversary donations to the communal kitty, expecting my gratitude as they do so. I appreciate what they do, but I have encouraged them to find meaning in other parts of their lives too. Their very presence in love, patience, and faith is a meaningful gift to the community, to their families, and to all who witness their kindness. I have invited them to look for ways of spreading the Good News in and beyond the community. I have tried to be attentive to the I have often noticed with what pride the sisters contribute their Christmas, birthday, Easter, and anniversary donations to the communal kitty. March-April 2002 Wodarczyk * Aging ordinary things they accomplish or experience, and I have lis-tened affirmingly as they speak about what they did and are doing with their lives. I have learned, too, about meaning that is not initially obvious. Sister Gina was a "collector." Her room was filled with any-thing and everything. Some might call it clutter. One day she said to me, "You know, when I die, people will complain about all the stuff I left behind. Some have already asked me to clean things up. But I want you to know something. Now that I can go nowhere, I have brought into my room all kinds of things that bring to mind the wonderful friends I have had in my life. These things always make me happy, and I pray for these peo-ple as well." When Sister Gina died, I took care of her things quietly, without others knowing, needing to respect the gen-uineness of her words to me. Most of this "junk" humbly con-veyed love and friendship and gave meaning to Sister Gina's last days. An Incarnational Spirituality When our sisters come to the Manor, transportation diffi-culties and their declining health limit their activity. Two things seem to arise in the absence of formal ministry. There is some-times an unhealthy focus on self and on the "world" of the Manor. Small matters become major concerns. Negativity can result. Teresa of Avila saw such problems in her cloistered monastery.9 There is perhaps no one remedy, but I have seen changes for the better when sisters choose other avenues of ser-vice or ministry or other activities compatible with their new status and their personal limitations. The healthiest and happiest in the Manor were those who were able to rechannel their formation-for-ministry in creative ways. Writing letters to friends, family members, and politi-cians and intercessory prayer for the needs of others are integral to the sisters' lives and are a genuine service they render. Decorating the chapel for feasts, participating as readers or Eucharistic ministers during the litu#gies, companioning another to the physician, sending get-well cards to the hospitalized, and visiting the "second floor" are but a few of the ways the sisters incarnate their love for God in service to their neighbor. Their Review for Religious humble acceptance of their limitations and their patient strug-gles day by day become invaluable tools in building up the body of Christ, as those who are touched by their witness can testi@. For the sisters, their personal sufferings take on deeper mean-ing as they offer them for the intentions of people who have requested their prayer and support. Perhaps some ecumenical healing takes place as well, as staff members of different faiths take care of these sisters, who have lived their lives with hearts so attuned to Roman Catholicism. The sisters remain educators, teaching young care-givers about faith, patience, forgiveness, hope, acceptance and nonacceptance of suffering and dying. The sisters, too, are stretched to go beyond the images of a vowed religious life that is past and gone. After fifty years or more of religious life, that is not a small stretch. Sports on television and radio, and movies, books, excur-sions, concerts, and so forth offer relaxation and outreach--for nothing can "separate us from the love of Christ" (Rm 8:35). Some sisters have become mentors or teachers in various spe-cialties. One Sister translated from Polish to English a valu-able book on the foundress of our community, Frances Siedliska. With phones now in every room, telephone ministry to family and friends became possible. Advocacy for human rights and other special interests is also a possible ministry for the sisters. If we live by the truth and in love, we can "grow in all ways into Christ" (Ep 4:15). All these ways of service build the king-dom of love among the family of God; they express the mis-sion of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth. "Tell Him to Wait!" Several months ago Sister Helen, our 95-year-old, was quite ill. She ceased to breathe during an MRI, and the hospital staff, acting on impulse rather than consulting her advance directive, resuscitated her. The doctor called me and told me Sister had been placed on a breathing machine. Twenty-four hours later the doctor removed the breathing machine, and, staunchly, Sister Helen survived the ordeal. I visited her in the hospital and reminded her gently, "Sister Helen, you are very ill. Perhaps 1K1 March-April 2002 Jesus will call you soon." "Let him wait," she bellowed; "I'm not dead yet!" I was taken aback, slow to see the humor. Later I reflected: "She has been a baptized Catholic for ninety-five years and a member of our religious community for eighty years. She has prayed each day of those years. She has a profound rela-tionship with God. After eighty years of relating, a certain free-dom of relationship must exist between lovers. How free Love can make us!" Sister Caritas died several years ago, and I especially remem-ber her dying. Racked with fever, in great distress, she held my finger tightly--so firmly that it reminded me of what my friend Maureen told me about a birth. Her sister's husband was on a business trip, and Maureen was in the delivery room with her sister. Her sister grasped her hand so tightly during the birth that Maureen needed several weeks of hand therapy afterward. While grasping my finger, Sister Caritas, too, was being born, born into eternal life. I have been with others who have died, not all struggling as did Sister Caritas. Some have gone to the Lord gently. Others have chosen to stop treatment and accepted the palliative care that became part of that choice. Some died after years, months, or a few days of being bedridden; others, while taking a nap. Each "birthing" has been different, each one very final, each one inviting me to deepen my belief in the life hereafter. Here at the Manor--or anywhere, of course--other kinds of dying occur earlier, before that actual moment. Every stage of Elisabeth Kubler-Ross's death-and-dying theory is lived out here: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.1° Are some stages more appropriate, more holy, than others? ls the sis-ter in denial less effective in dealing with dying than the one who is angry and displacing it at every available opportunity? And the one who bargains--"If I keep on living on the third floor, I'll never get like those on the second floor"--is she less holy than the one whose depression shows all over her face and in her every bodily move? And is she still less holy than the one who grieves her loss, accepts additional personal help, gently accepts the everyday deaths and dyings that are part of human experience? I think there can be no comparisons here. When one strug-gles in the face of d~ath, regardless of what type, the struggle is Review for Religious real. "It remains true," as Pope John Paul has observed, "that the years pass quickly, and the gift of life, for all the effort and pain it involves, is too beautiful and precious for us ever to grow tired of it." 1, And so we struggle and deny, are angered, bargain, and are depressed. In the end we do accept the reality that has been presented to us by Life. The challenge for me in the Manor community was to have faith in this precious journey and trust that the increasing pains are redemptive. I chose to permit people to be themselves: I challenge, but do not force. Rather, I wait in patience for God's grace to touch hearts and hurts and lead all of us into his sacred presence. My Beloved As we religious grow toward accepting death, the inevitable reality shared by all creation, I believe that a life of prayer sustains us. Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which we may continuously return . It is a Light within which illuminates the face of God. for the spiritual person is forever bringing all affairs down into the light, holding them there in the Presence, reseeing [sic] them and the whole of the world., in a new and overturning way.12 A life of prayer is different for each of us: some tending to more prescribed prayers, others to a more wordless prayer. What is common about prayer life is the deep relationship with God that is so special and so sacred to each one. Inscribed on each sis-ter's profession ring are the words "My Beloved is mine and I am His," from the Song of Songs (2:16). She not only wears that ring, she lives that reality. Recently I was asked to be the community witness when Sister Ann's casket was closed. Before burial we normally remove from the deceased our congregational cross and ring. On this occasion the undertaker could not remove the ring. I advised him to leave it and close the coffin. Reflecting on this moment afterwards, I considered it to be as symbolic as the ring itself. Sister Ann, orphaned as a child, surrendered herself to God March-April 2002 Wodarczyk * Aging through her vows and eventually, as Alzheimer's disease kept taking its toll, was stripped of family, friends, and even cogni-tion. The one thing that remained was the reality: she was her Beloved's and her Beloved was hers. The sisters at the Manor foster that relationship with their Beloved in many ways, including personal and communal prayer. Communally we have had to vary our prayer style here. Because of impaired hearing and sight and various other physical limi-tations, we no longer say Office in common. But the sisters pray faithfully --in their rooms, in the chapel, at Mass, on the porch, while walking outdoors or in the corridors, and during our spe-cial Friday mornings in the chapel. When they are very ill, they may say they cannot pray, and some are troubled by this. Others say that they are simply united with Jesus in their suffering, which is "nothing compared with His." Still others are quiet, their faith wrapping them palpably like a shawl. At times faith grows in darkness. It is no small discomfort when one who has dedicated her ehtire life to God questions the existence of God. When suffering is too much, "God, O God, why did you abandon me?" becomes the prayer of the day, or week, or even longer. In community, even as we pray in various ways, we journey in prayer together. Just as the psalms pray through the gamut of human emotion, so our lives together become a living psalter. Anlen I cannot think of any richer ministry experience within my thirty-nine years as a member of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth than the time I spent in service to my sisters at Holy Family Manor. But my two three-year terms as convent superior here have come to an end. "Relieved?" my current provincial superior asked me before announcing my replacement. "Mixed feelings," I mumbled. But I know that this is right and good. My body and my spirit home in on a few words in my Moses poem: "Take offyour shoes, believe in your Moses, and go." Now they have a fuller meaning: ". go, relax awhile, and then, changed by this burning-bush experience of yours, go on and minister to whatever people I, your God, choose for you!" I respond: Amen. Review for Religious Notes l Jane Marie Thibault, A Deepening Love Affair: The Gift of God in Later in Life (Nashville: Upper Room Books, 1993). 2 The welcoming service was composed by Sister Therese Frankowski. 3 The names of most of the sisters in this article have been changed. 4 Henri J.M. Nouwen, Behold the Beauty of the Lord: Praying with Icons (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1987). s Henri J.M. Nouwen, Our Greatest Gift: A Meditation on Dying and Caring (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1994). 6 David Snowden PhD, Aging with Grace: What the Nuns' Study Teaches Us about Leading Longer, Healthier, and More Meaningful Lives (New York: Bantam Press, 2001). 7 Jean-Pierre de Caussade, Abandonment to Divine Providence, trans. John Beevers (New York: Image Books, 1975), p. 34. ~ Caussade, p. 37. 9 The Way of Perfection, chap. 4. ,0 Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, On Death and Dying (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1969). '~ John Paul II, Letter to the Elderly (1 October 1999), §1. ,z C.S. Lewis, as cited in A Step Beyond: Advanced Training in Pastoral Bereavement Counseling (Archdiocese of New York: The Ministry to the Bereaved, November 1994), p. 32. School Day, 1947 I am seven, on my way to school, crisp snow sparkles in the sun. As I walk along, I reflect that some day a man will offer me a diamond ring, but today God himself has hurled thousands at my feet. Mary Hanson ~larch-April 2002 HELEN JEAN NOVY Coping with Repetition: A Spirituality for Ministering to the Elderly ~ehncoeuthneter rds uwriinthg tfhaem eilldye rvlyis iotfst eonr ifnovromlvael mdeianliisntgry w, iothur their habits of repetition. I have overheard "Dad, you say the exact same thing every time I come," and I have heard myself saying "Mom, you ask me that again and again." The proverb "Variety is the spice of life" inclines us to assume variety as a condition of anyone's continuing interest or at least as a lively attention getter. Repetition, however, is a necessary complement to variety. A systematic interplay of repetition and variation is a sine qua non for the arts. Consider the structure of sonatas or the form of songs. Aaron Copland's "Simple Gifts" in Appalachian Spring is an example of theme and variations, as is Max Reger's Variations on "America." In prayer, too, there is repetiton and variation. Christians regularly praying the Liturgy of the Hours, for example, are so accustomed to Morning Prayer's psalms for Week One that most know them by heart. Their predictability provides a rhythm that matches the regularity of breathing. But along with this comes the season's or feast's antiphon, giving a turn to the verses of the psalm and in a sense reinventing them. Helen Jean Novy HM is director of mission effectiveness at Magnificat High School; 20770 Hilliard Road; Rocky River, Ohio 44116. Review for Religious For Sunday of the First Week in Ordinary Time, this antiphon begins and ends Psalm 63: "As morning breaks I look to you, O God, to be my strength this day." The antiphon suffuses the psalmist's words that follow: "O God, you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." For the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, a different anti-phon frames the same psalm w"I know the one whom I have trusted"--and gives it a different tinge: "O God, you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." The synoptic Gospels, echoing each other in recounting the same events and sayings, do it with small yet significant differences. Compare the healing of Peter's mother-in-law in Mark 1 .'31 ("he came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her"), in Luke 4:39 ("he stood over her and rebuked the fever, and it left her"), and in Matthew 8:15 ("he touched her hand, and the fever left her, and she got up"). Might these considerations guide our responses to the repetitiousness of elderly people who have debilities of memory or concentration? Each encounter with another person, even though seemingly routine, is a new arid original encounter. Both parties are changed by the passing of time--by the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual experiences of the intervening time--even if only minutely. Health has improved or declined; the weather has turned warmer or cooler; clothes are brighter or more uniform; the staff has been updated or has had a turnover; the family has been reunited or suffered a loss; a sacrament has been received or a prayer prayed. "No need to recall the past. I am doing a new thing" (Is 43:18-19). Could Yahweh God be doing this new thing daily? God indeed adds yeast to the dough of the soul, lets it work, and gives it the kneading it requires: prayer and contemplation, opportunities for good works and self-sacrifice, active or passive Perhaps the most mutually soothing response to unceasing repetitions is a silent laying on of hands, a gentle and loving touch. I67 March-April 2002 Novy ¯ Coping witb Repetition suffering, or simply love's perpetually re-creating thoughts and deeds and words. Does it take yeoman patience to hear the same questions, the same comments, the same concerns day in and day out, hour by hour, and even minute by minute? Of course, those who minister have to work on themselves, cultivating a reliable equanimity and ideally a blend of knowing tolerance and psychological and spiritual understanding: Thank heaven she can still respond., what a grace that we can still interact., how humbling that he takes his own debility in stride., bow merciful that she is unaware., what a gift.t that I can encounter the very Christ in the simplicity and vulnerability of this person. Perhaps the most mutually soothing response to unceasing repetitions is a silent laying on of hands, a gentle and loving touch. Only by taking the tensions and strains of working with the sick-elderly to prayer again and again will ministers discover each person as an "imago Christi, a living analogue of the crucified Christ. As they do this, the ministers themselves will be molded into other Christs. They may find themselves praying the antiphons and psalms of the Liturgy of the Hours in the persona of Christ in the sick-elderly: "For you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." In the purview of faith, while the soul of the minister is being tuned to a new pitch, the souls of those they minister to become new songs. The Spirit sings through the adaptive constancy of the one and the dulling repetitions of the others, harmonizing both in the mystery of Divine Providence's unfathomable workings. G.K. Chesterton suggested that we should not take for granted the rising of the sun. Such a glorious phenomenon may well depend on the childlike delight of God calling for an encore: "Do it again, Sun!" Ultimately, deepening spirituality will not only expect the unexpected; it will expect the familiar, the recurring, the repetitious. It will perceive even the annoyance of repetition as a melodic refrain within the grand orchestration ¯ of God. Review for Religious JOAN WAGNER Medaille's "Means" and Religious Life's Renewal At our last meeting, in June 1998, I attempted to show that the primitive documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph indicate that apostolic endeavors have deep mystical foundations. In the present paper I examine other aspects of these primitive documents, aspects that pertain especially to the communal life of small communities that undertake apostolic ministry. Because this article focuses on the spiritual and apostolic insights of Father Jean-Pierre Medaille SJ, it is intended especially for those who walk in his tradition, but also for all professed religious who seek the deepening of their community life and their apostolic action. I will focus on six "means" derived from Father Medaille's writings, but first I draw your attention to two Scripture passages that were of major importance for Medaille: Have this mind among yourselves, which was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself taking the form of a p rspecliv s Joan Wagner ssJ presented this paper in Milwaukee in June 2001 at the fifth triennial meeting of the Conference on the History of Women Religious. Her address is Little Design Community; 171 Schiller Street; Buffalo, New York 14206. March-April 2002 Wagner * Medaille's "Means" servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Ph 2:5-11) That they may all be one; even as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that thou hast sent me. The glory which thou hast given me I have given to them that they may be one even as we are. one, I in them and thou in me, that they may become per-fectly one, so that the world may know that thou hast sent me and hast loved them even as thou hast loved me. (Jn 17:21-23) I think that adopting Father Medaille's "means" could help contemporary religious to practice the emptying spoken of in Philippians and thereby achieve the unions spoken of in John's Gospel. After discussing these "means," I will offer some concrete proposals for living them. The new community to which I belong, the community of the Little Design, is attempting to establish its communal life on "the means of Medaille." Clarifying the Scope of Medaille's "Means" The six "means" that I will be discussing cannot be found at any one location within the Primitive Documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph. In fact, nowhere in Medaille's writings did he use the term "means" as I use it in this article. It is a concept that was first formed in the latter decades of the 20th century, that is, three hundred years after Medaille, by a commentator on the Primitive Documents, Sister Julie Harkins of the Boston Sisters of St. Joseph. I first encountered Sister Julie's work when I attended a charism retreat that she gave in Wichita, Kansas. In her presentation she referred to "six central means found in the lived experience of our first sisters to maintain unity among themselves and to be apostolic communities of love." Even as I Review for Religious taped her presentation at that conference, I felt that her ideas and concepts about Medaille's approach were truly a treasure. It seemed to me that Medaille had applied St. Ignatius Loyola's Rules for Discernment in a new way, using at the communal level the retreat pedagogy of reflection on experience. He adapted those rules to unlettered and diverse groups of women, to assist them in becoming apostolic communities of love. Other interpreters of the Primitive Documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph such as Sister Vacher and Sister de Vaublanc have analyzed the practices that Medaille proposed for the early sisters. Not all of these commentators would agree that the six "means" identified by Sister Julie Harkins capture the heart of Medaille's approach. Other phrasings and other lists of "means" have been proposed. It has also been suggested that Medaille's approach can be represented by one expansive "means," the sisters' sharing their hearts unreservedly. To shed additional light on whether I-Iarldns's six "means" adequately represent Medaille's approach, I suggest that we consider how difficult it would be to distill the central practices recommended by St. Paul. We know that Paul wrote extensively about the living of the Christian life. (His writings are far more extensive than Medaille's even if we consider all the Maxims and other Primitive Documents to be authentically his.) How then to express the central "means" of St. Paul? One commentator might comb through his writings and identify six "means" as central. Another might determine that there are actually four or eight or one. Obviously there is much room for disagreement. Keep in mind, then, that there are various ways of presenting the essence of Medaille's approach even as I now list Harkins's six "means." I advocate them as the basis of the community life of religious women, today--but always understanding their meaning within the Gospels' call to discipleship. Please note, too, that in Harldns's list there are two dimensions in Means 2 (and perhaps in Means 3 as well). And there is some overlapping among the various "means" since the boundaries among them are not tightly drawn. Finally, note that Means 6 is phrased in such a broad, all-encompassing way that it seems to subsume the preceding five "means." Here, then, is Sister Julie Harkins's list of Medaille's "means": 171 March-April 2002 _Wag~, er ¯ Medaille's "Means" 1. Sharing experiences and feelings in prayer and doing so with candor and simplicity (Reglements, p. 9 par. 6). 2. Sharing the state of the house (outer as well as inner) and sharing the next step to which ofie is called (Reglements, p. 8 par. 4; Primitive Constitutions, p. 16 par. 1; p. 21 par. 4, 5, 6; p. 39 par. 6; p. 51 par. 8). 3. Sharing the dangers (evils) that threaten community life; protesting (promising) to safeguard what will safeguard the common union (Primitive Constitutions, pp. 58-66; Protestations, pp. 67-68). 4. Sharing what is our city and dividing the city among ourselves to discover the evils and to work for their healing (Primitive Constiitutions, p. i1 par. 6; p. 29 par. 9; p. 30 par. 1-3; p. 31 par. 1-2). 5. Sharing with each other how through works of service they are building the kingdom of love among the dear neighbors and the members of the community (Reglements, p. 8 par. 4; Primitive Constitutions, p. 17 par. 2). 6. Fidelity to the core spirituality: being grouped in honor of the Father, Son, and Spirit; Jesus, Mary, and Joseph (Maxims of Perfection, pp. 21-22; Reglements, pp. 4-5; Primitive Constitutions, pp. 12 and 57). Putting Medaille's "Means" into Practice You can see that the first three "means" listed pertain to spiritual bonding within the community; they deal primarily with discernment of spirits as a way of life. The next two "means" pertain to discerning the apostolic and prophetic stance to which the community may be called; these "means" address discernment as a decision-making process. Finally, the sixth "means" stands above the others and informs all of them inasmuch as it focuses upon the mystical relationships that are at the heart of the calling that Medaille identified for the Sisters of St. Joseph. I am keenly excited about having our Little Design community underway. This small community employs Medaille's own term, and it represents the fulfillment of a dream for refoundation that I have had for forty years. (Be it known, however, that at least one other person has called this dream my Review for Religious obsession.) As I write, this house is only three months old and at present has only two members. We have good hopes of attracting other young women who are interested in a life that is based on these six "means" of becoming an apostolic community of love. Let us now consider Medaille's first "means": sharing experiences and feelings in prayer and doing so with candor and simplicity. I will first try to explain why I feel that this is important, and then I will offer some recommendations about how to practice such sharing. The mystery of faith revealed to us in Scripture, particularly in Paul and John, is that all of history is now sacred history. This is the impact of the incarnation on our daily life (note--in Philippians 2:6-11, one of the passages cited above--the relevance of Paul's theology). All of our ordinary daily life is filled with God drawing our human consciousness to God's Self. God desires for us an ever-growing love and participation in the life of Jesus. This goes on in each moment of our human experience, and it registers as a thought, a tendency, a mood, a feeling. (Father George Aschenbrenner SJ has emphasized this approach in his conferences.) It is one thing to believe this. It is another to be deeply aware of it. It is a third step to be keenly sensitive to it. Our response is toward a greater share in living out Jesus' mission (note here the relevance of the John 17 passage on unity). To share within a community (I envision one of three to five sisters) one's experience in prayer presupposes incarnational theology and could move the community from believing to the final stage of responding. Submission to the group mandate for the purpose of growth enables believing, awareness, and sensitivity to develop. And movements of grace obviously become more explicit when inner awareness moves to vocal articulation. Sharing one's prayer experience with candor and simplicity is a demanding endeavor. An emptying is required, but I believe it leads to a new depth of communal unity if it is done in faith, All of our ordinary daily life is f!lled with God drawing our human consciousness to God's Self. --!73 Mt~.rcb-dpril 2002 Wagner ¯ Medaille's "Means" trust, and love. This depth is the mystery of God made more manifest in and among ourselves. We become more conscious of the call to respond and to be accountable. How would this be implemented? A possible scenario would be a biweekly gathering at which community members would relate movements of consolation and desolation during their prayer of the previous few days. Journaling after prayer periods would help members to be more responsibly prepared for the group gathering. Those who have had an Ignatian directed retreat will easily identify with this process. At present our small community enters into Morning Praise with a psalm, quiet time to reflect, and then the citing of a word, phrase, or line that was "given." The Gospel for the day is then read aloud. This is followed by a brief period of quiet and a brief time of communal sharing. All of this is done within half an hour and prepares us for deeper listening at liturgy. The content of our prayer in the future may vary, but the communal sharing is integral. Medaille's second "means" has three aspects: sharing the state of the house (outer as well as inner) and sharing the next step to which one is called. "The state of the house" has two meanings: first, the practical details of the community's living quarters. For harmonious living, responsibility and accountability are expected from every member. Such matters as cleaning, shopping for food, preparing meals, paying bills, scheduling prayer, hospitality, and times for silence are basic elements in a well-ordered "house." Honesty prevailing, the community will be aware of members' overextension or ill health, of things needing repair, and so forth. With solutions to be found, the quality presence of each member is important. The ebb and flow of external harmony is guaranteed by this practical sharing. The other "house" is the inner one, the heart. Teresa of Avila in her Way of Perfection notes that in praying it is essential to recognize and own how one is as one stands before the Beloved: weak, grateful, sinful, needy. This ownership of my incarnate self relates me to the incarnate Jesus. In truth, to articulate that inner state demands honesty, probes causes, and elicits understanding. What a sacred gift to offer my sisters: an emptying for the purpose of union,t My creaturely limitation stands naked before the Christ I trust, and before the Body of Review for Religious Christ in my sisters. Transformation in Christ occurs when I share in Jesus' life--in his being child of God and sharer in created human nature. The next aspect of the second "means," sharing the next step to which one is called, flows out of the group's increasing sensitivity. Articulation of deeper desires was a requirement for Jesuit novices, and this may have influenced Medaille to recommend this sharing to the first sisters. Great desires for God need to be fostered into action or they die. One's next step may be small and subtle or grand and significant. It could be to create a dream, to change a pattern of behavior, to attend to one's health, or to begin a new relationship. Such matters require careful handling with regard to the members' personal and communal mission. They begin in the human heart. It was the sharing that Teresa of Avila had with John of the Cross that enabled them to take the next steps for the refoundation of the Carmelite order. It was the vision that Ignatius shared with Francis Xavier that led to his bringing the faith to south and east Asia. Incarnational theology points out that our deepest desires are God-given. The word God gives us is to be spoken and enfleshed. The emptying required in taking next steps in our lives is attested to in the lives of men and women who accomplished much for God. A Saturday morning once a month could be set aside to ensure Medaille's second "means." Although the focus would vary, all aspects of this "means" would be attended to within this leisurely time together. Community members could take turns facilitating a simple process that might begin with listening to a member describe a project that she feels called to initiate. The listening could be followed b~ quiet reflection, questions, and dialogue. In this way one member's hopeful desire would be gracefully fostered and nurtured or deemed unsuitable or temporarily tabled for deeper discerning. At present our Little Design community gathers in the community room on Saturday mornings for about an hour and a Incarnational theology points out that our deepest desires are God-given. March-April 2002 H~ner * Medaille'~ "Means" half, a time we consider sacred. Because we are a new community, we do this every Saturday unless some special event interferes. We realize, too, that it is easy to spend too much time on the "outer" house, and so we strive to ensure the more interior and bonding elements of this second "means." Medaille's third "means" is sharing the dangers (evils) that threaten community life, protesting (promising) to safeguard what will safeguard the common union. One might ask wh

Issue 59.6 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; NOVEMBER: DECEMBER 2000 ,VOLUME 59 NUMBER 6 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for.Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, iVlO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subsEription rates. ©2000 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Jew rel,g,ous LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB. Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Patricia Wittberg SC NOVEMBER DECEMBER 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 6 contents 566 spiritual practice Retrieving the Practice of Silence Donald J. Goergen oP enters us into an appreciation of silence that we might commit ourselves more to its observance. 575 The Dangers of Solitude Kenneth C. Russell, guiding readers through some 12th-century advice to hermits, shows its 2 l st-cenrury relevance to hermits and others as well. 584 A Spiritual Direction Mary Beth Moore SC gazes at, listens to, a few moments of reality and possibility within contemporary sisterly living. 594 a witness response Contemplative Religious Witness: A Redemptoristine Monastery Dennis J. Billy CSSR finds the life of a group of contemplative sisters very much present to his apostolic mission, and happily reflects that the reverse is true as well. 601 AVowed Response to the Postmodern World Andr~ Maureen Soete SSND seeks ways for the vowed life to contribute more vigorously, more effectively, to the alleviation of troubles in our troubled world. Review for Religious 608 examples from the past Mary Ward: Centuries Her Scroll Lawrence F. Barmann sketches the life story of Mary Ward, the saintly English founder of the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary, as an inspiration for us living in the current ecclesial milieu. 614 627 St. Catherine's Letters: Human Love, Gracious Authority Stan Parmisano OP finds that in style and content the letters of Catherine of Siena (1347-1380) have surprising and challenging and charming relevance for persons living today. Katharine Drexel's Cultural Relevance Now Normandie J. Gaitley SSJ sketches the life of the recently canonized Mother Katharine Drexel SBS (1858-1955), a Philadelphia debutante who used her inheritance to serve Native Americans and African Americans. 633 643 vocation When Vocations Happen by Accident Elizabeth Julian RSM describes with quiet enthusiasm her sense of a flexible small community in New Zealand that fosters acquaintance and has shown itself to foster vocations. Vocational Support Donald Macdonald SMM speaks of the human need of support in one's vocation and of the providential availability of that support if we are alert to its manifold presence. departments 564 Prisms 650 Canonical Counsel: Responsibilities of the Novice Director 656 Book Reviews 666 Indexes to Volume 59 November-December 2000 prisms Whave come to appreciate the rich complexi.ty of the biblical term jubilee, espe-cially as we have looked toward the new millennium. But as we approach the Advent and Christmas seasons of the year 2000, one focus of jubilee stands out. Jubilee implies celebration. Advent and Christmas seasons pro-vide an opportune moment for us to consider what it is that we celebrate. Celebrati6n often means bringing people together, sometimes those dearest to us, and at other times the "crowd" that comes together only for special occasions. Celebration can include elegant banquets or simple fin-ger food. It may suggest a refined cocktail party or a noisy beer-keg-and-pretzels get-together. Celebration can imply long-term planning or it may be a spur-of-the- moment, spontaneous occasion. We celebrate beginnings, like newborn babies and the wedding day; we celebrate completions, like school graduations and retirements. We observe national patriotic days, and we take time for religious festivals. But for all the aspects of a jubilee year of forgiveness, justice, and reconciliation, what is it that we most cele-brate? The biblical notion of jubilee celebrates, above all, our being God's people and our living like God's sons and daughters. This planet called Earth is "home" for us because it is God's home. Our space-age view of our planet Earth has brought home to us how much we all are "stewards," not owners, of God's gift to us. Review for Religious What is striking is how our jubilee celebrations enter us into the Gospel Prodigal Son parable. Whether we more identify with one who hopes to see life as only an arena of personal delights and squanderings or whether we more identify with the other who defines life as a kind of slavery with weighty obligations and grim duties, we realize how much we need a jubilee understanding of life. Both sons, in Jesus' famous parable, understand neither the father who helped bring them into life nor the life which this father wants to share with them. The first son in his self-cen-tered celebrating misses the point of celebration. The second son in his self-defined servitude also misses the idea of celebra-tion. Just as the father in the parable goes out of the way to meet each son, so God continues to break into our life to call us to a reality of biblical jubilee. Advent is our jubilee celebration of our longing and desire to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of our life. Christmas is our jubilee celebration of God's desire and longing to come and play forever among the children of Earth. Advent and Christmas are at the center of our understanding jubilee because both seas~ons emphasize the heart of all our reasons to celebrate: God calls us sons and daughters, and we know the redemptive salvation that Jesus brought, of living in God's home all the days of our life. David L. Fleming SJ thank you for your ~uppor~throughout thi~ pa~t yoar and pray that (~od~rieh o a nd~ abundant iubiloo Advont and ~hri~tma~ Th~ Mitor~ and ,of Revi~ ~orRoligiou~ . " November-December 2000 spiritua practice DONALD J. GOERGEN Retrieving the Practice of Silence Jesus experienced the need for quiet. "In the morn-ing, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed"(Mk 1:35, NRSV). What did he seek there? What did he find? The Book of Psalms is quoted in the New Testament more often than any other book of the Hebrew Bible. What role did the psalms play in the prayer of Jesus? "Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). How often in the course of his life did Jesus pray over verses like that, or this: "For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation"? (Ps 62:1). There are few things in human life more important, both personally and communally, than discovering the value of silence. Spirituality and religion are important dimensions of human and social life, and so are silence and stillness. Other civilizations, perhaps more pastoral, more agrarian ones, had greater opportunities for the practice of silence. Our times seem less fortunate in that regard. Yet silence is essential to wholesome living. My purpose in these reflections is to help us appreciate silence more and commit ourselves to practicing it. Donald J. Goergen OP wrote on celibacy for our May- June 1998 issue. His address is Friends of God Dominican Ashram; 720 35th Street; Kenosha, Wisconsin 53140. Review for Religious Worship, Charity, and Silence Which is more important, love of God or love of neighbor? (Mk 12:28-31). It does not take much to realize that this question is falsely posed. Which is more important, inhaling or exhaling, yang or yin? St. Anselm spoke of God as "the Being a greater than which cannot be conceived." Certainly, for one who believes, God alone deserves to be worshiped. Adoration and praise are the only appro-priate responses to God. Although there is nothing in human life more important than love of God, the God of Jesus instructs us that there is something that must precede or accompany it. "So, when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remem-ber that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift" (Mt 5:23- 24). "Those who say 'I love God,' and hate their brothers or sis-ters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen cannot love God whom they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also" (1 Jn 4:20-21). As important as worship is, equally important is the practice of charity, love of neighbor, the "works of mercy" (Mr 25:31-46). The revolution in Jesus' teaching was not that he understood love of God, the Shema (Dr 6:4-5), as the core of the Hebrew Scriptures. Almost every practicing and devout Jew understood that to be the great com-mandment. But Jesus' placing love of neighbor (Lv 19:18; Mk 12:31) on a par with love of God, that was revolutionary, and for him that was what true religion is about. For Jesus, the second commandment is not secondary, not second in the sense of less significant. According to Matthew, it is "like" the "great and first" commandment (Mr 22:38-39). Luke (10:27) reports them as really one commandment. True worship or love of God is inseparable from true com-passion or love of neighbor. But what do love of God and love of neighbor, or worship and the works of mercy, have to do with the practice of silence? Abhishiktananda, or Henri Le Saux, the French monk who came to India in 1948 and immersed himself in its reli-gious environment, wrote: Now if something has passed in this long discourse by the way of words, yet beyond words, if you have heard in the words of the Upanishads some echo of what the Spirit has November-Decenlber 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving the Practice of Silence certainly whispered in your heart when you sat in contem-plation of the mystery of the Father and the Son, then you will discover by yourselves the secret of what is called the Advaitic or Upanishadic prayer. It can be summed up in one Hebrew phrase of Psalm 65, which Jerome translates: silen-tium tibi laus. Silence is praise for you. Silence in prayer, silence in thanksgiving, prayer, and adoration, silence in meditation, silence inside and outside as the most essential preparation for this stillness of the soul in which alone the Spirit can work at his pleasure.~ The contemplative and interior journey, the love and worship of God, are dependent on silence. But charity or love of neigh-bor depends on silence too. A loving kindness toward our human companions on this earth requires the silent journey inward just as true worship of God requires it. Can there be true love of neigh-bor without confronting the truth about ourselves? Can we expect reconciliation and forgiveness in our world if we ourselves are not yet ready to forgive? If we are to transform our world, we must also be working on becoming transformed ourselves. Social engage-ment requires time apart. Silence is essential if we are to deepen our love for God and our love for our neighbor. Silence, Solitude, and Simplicity What does silence sound like? What does it look like? Are there different kinds of silence? Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earth-quake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. (1 Kg 19:11-13) True silence, the inner stillness, the still point, is an achieve-ment to be sought, yet always remains a grace. But it is a grace upon which we must focus our attention. It requires discipline, which does not guarantee interior silence, but rather prepares the way. We must devote time to "the practice of silence," the practice of interior and contemplative prayer, the practice of an awareness that is the fruit of quieting the mind.2 Such "quiet" is not easily obtained in our world today. Not Review for Religious that a busy, technological, urban society is the enemy of silence, but neither is it a friend. Modern social and commercial life cannot prevent the pursuit of silence, but neither do they encourage or value it. Entertainment is a noisy industry. The more channels we have on television, the better. But then they must be filled--with "stuff," whatever it be. They compete for attention; thus, the more out-rageous, the more likely the success. The Internet now multiplies ways to distract us from an inner stillness. Not to find television entertaining seems quaint. To see it or the overuse of the Internet as distraction from true entertain-ment, a life with God quietly pursued, is sec-ular heresy. For silence is not the stuff of which modern societies, commerce, or edu-cation are ordinarily made. Not that the media, the schools, the churches, market-places, and businesses are avowed enemies of silence; they are just uneasy with it. We are talking about a disciplined silence that requires resolve. Its close friends are solitude and simplicity. These compan-ions reveal how countercultural true silence really is. Solitude is one of silence's most cherished friends. Yet how difficult it is in our world today to find solitude, to pursue solitude, to practice solitude. We are "driven" away from it. We can hardly face the silence within ourselves. We flee. As Francis Thompson wrote: I fled Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter.3 The running is aided by all the activities of our world, justified by the needs of our world, and rationalized by "This is just our world and that's the way it is." To desire silence we must value solitude. We identify aloneness with loneliness. But, until we are at home with ourselves, we will always be lonely, no matter how busy, how "with it," how much with others we might be. As we know, marriage is no cure for loneliness. Neither is single life. Dietrich Modern social and commercial life cannot prevent the pursuit of silence, but neither do they encourage or value it. November-December 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving tbe Practice of Silence Bonhoeffer once cautioned us to be wary of the person who lives with another or in community who cannot be alone, or who lives alone but cannot live in community.4 Sociality and solitude are two sides of the same coin: we can-not find one without the other. Silence lives on solitude. We must find ways to structure it into our lives on a regular basis, like the food we eat. Where can we find that place apart, that space for being alone, and for how long can we keep ourselves there with-out being taken up by distractions~ Where can we go to practice silence? Or how in the midst of activity can we find that cell within? s One of solitude's companions is simplicity of life. Simplicity inside requires simplicity outside. A cluttered, thing-filled, con-sumer- intensive environment is hardly the place in which to prac-tice an awareness that few things in life are important. The world immediately outside myself needs to reflect what I am trying to attain within myself. Simplicity in life is an outward expression of simplicity within. One's "within" and "without" go together. And now we can see more clearly why our current economic world can easily become an enemy of silence. The pursuit of silence eventu-ally becomes a pursuit of simplicity of life--which is a recognizable enemy to a consumer economy, a global and ever expanding mar-ket economy. Not that the market is evil; it is just easy prey to the pretension that it alone is important, the be-all and end-all of human life. The practices of silence, solitude, and simplicity enable us to see the truth about economic pursuits: How inhumane they can be when given priority in life, how grounded in greed they become! Kinds of Silence There are a variety of silences.6 Silence can be either destruc-tive or constructive.7 Destructive silence is refusing to speak when a word is called for, a word of consolation, of affection, of chal-lenge. Destructive silence can be passive aggression, a refusal to participate, a lack of care, a form of punishment, unconscionable noncommunication. But silence as context for an interior journey is positive. Silence as a socia! context is the absence of noise in our imme-diate environment. There are different degrees of environmental silence. A noiseless environment is difficult to find in modern Review for Religious urban settings. One can distinguish rural silences and urban silences. For someone unaccustomed to rural silences, the sound of the cricket or the howl of a coyote can be disturbing. There are sounds to which we have become accustomed and those to which we are not. Familiar sounds need not destroy environmen-tal silence, but can blend with it. There is a silent stillness to the vastness of nature: the sounds and silence of the ocean, the moun-tains, the desert, the plains. Each is a different environment and a different silence. On a windless day, sitting atop one of the mountain peaks of the Sangre de Cristo range near Christ in the Desert Monastery in northern New Mexico, one can hear an almost Human silence absolute environmental silence. Human silence is the presence of nonspeech, call be a silence It is not necessarily noncommunication or non-of solitude, communitarian. Silence itself can communicate abundantly, and it is amazing what can be corn- but it can also be municated without words. Human silence can be a silence of solitude, but it can also be commu- communitarian. nitarian. A solemn silence can prevail in Christian or Buddhist monasteries or a Hindu ashram, in a synagogue, church, or mosque. These settings or "environments" can be sacred space. There are times and places when human speech is out of place or out of season. Human silence can be community silence, but there is also personal silence. An individual person can cultivate silence--by seeking environmental silence, or sacred space, or solitude, but also by the practice of silence: avoiding unnecessary speech, c~eating personal space, the silence of one's own room, withdrawing to "the cell within," lis-tening to music, allowing absorption in art and beauty, acquiring an inner stillness and the practice of meditation. Personal silence itself is not only oriented toward calm, tran-quillity, and an absence of stress, but ultimately toward interior silence, the silencing of the mind, even if this is rare or only momentary. I remember a conversation with a cloistered Dominican nun, who had a doctorate and had been teaching before joining this cloistered contemplative community. When I asked why she had joined the monastery, she replied, "I needed to stop thinking if I was going to start praying." The human being is a reflective being, but also a contemplative being that sometimes needs to move beyond thoughts (mental silence) as well as wordsv-~z-~'~---)-'[-i November-December 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving the Practice of Silence (verbal silence). The interior journey is in fact directed toward this deep silence within, this cave of the heart, this still point, this soul of the soul, this human spirit. Spiritual silence is the human spirit at peace, the silence of the spirit in its communion with the Spirit of God, the divine Spirit, the Holy Spirit. This is mystical silence, with its dark nights, its ecstatic joy, its calm recollection, its deep rest. Silence of any sort is most often not constant, but periodic, coming at intervals, having a rhythm of its own. Deep silence, mystical silence, is not an achievement but a grace. Thus one can speak of the grace of silence, a grace that is present in varied ways and at varied levels, exteriorly and interiorly: the prayer of silence, the silent Presence, the Holy Mystery. It is this mystery that we cel-ebrate in liturgy and seek in contemplation. We experience litur-gical silence, a pastoral silence, intimate silences, times and places not to speak, for which words are inappropriate, occasions on which only silence can communicate. Silence can communicate from within a depth beyond words. In community, in friendship, in ministry, and in prayer there must be silence as well as speech. Divine silence is God's very own silence, God's very own self-communication, God's' awesome and incomprehensible transcen-dence, God's overwhelming intimate immanence, God's elusive presence and mysterious absence, God's truth and God's beauty, the Nameless One whose name is Father, Son, and Spirit, the One- Who-Is, the One-Who-Is-With-Us, the silence of being, the sound of ore, the soundlessness of communion, the union of God and humanity, the union of Word and flesh, the triune union, the incor-poration of humanity into the silent triunity of its Creator. There is ultimately no distinction between divine Silence and divine Speech. They are one 'and the same. God's speech is silent, and God's silence speaks. Silence and Theology .The practice of silence is necessary not only for the spiritual journey and to sustain our humanity. It is also essential for doing theology. Theologians are accountable for their theology to their professional peers, to their varied communities of faith, and to society at large for the quality, fidelity, and social implications of their work. They cannot absolve themselves of this threefold responsibility. But the theologian is also accountable to God. One Review for Religious does not stand before the Holy Mystery, the mysterium fascinans et tremendum, without asking the Holy Spirit for courage, guid-ance, and wisdom. In other words, all theology must begin with prayer. It has both a reflective moment and a contemplative moment. It is not an ego project, but a work of the Spirit. Theology cannot be done apart from silence. The practice of silence, of placing oneself in the presence of God, of meditation, of listening, of longing are all part of doing theology. Theology can too easily become words, verbal batdes, polemic, agenda ridden, jargon, rather than revelatory, illuminating, con-nected to life, committed to Truth. This happens when theolo-gians neglect the practice of contemplative silence--which would make them aware of both the inadequacy and the necessity of words for communicating the divine mystery. A theologian needs to be practiced in the art of silence. So does the magisterium in the church need to practice it. "Roma locuta est," the saying goes. But think of the symbolic power in "Roma tacuit." What a wonderful example that could be. Magisterial authority must reflect that we are a learning church as well as a teaching church. Is not part of the crisis over author-ity the ways in which the church exercises its authority? We do not grant authority easily to those who do not listen. Silence gives value to words. Apart from words, silence can be sterile, but apart from silence words lose their power. As Ecclesiastes (3:7) says, "There is a time for keeping silence, a time for speaking." Silence is a work of the Spirit. True silence is ulti-mately prayer. It speaks with authority. It communicates truth. It creates community. It is the voice of the soul, of the human spirit, and of the Holy Spirit. Can we afford to allow its practice to become peripheral in our lives? In The Sleeping Beauty, Ralph Harper points to the value of silence for our world: Each order of experience has its own a.tmosphere. The atmo-sphere of presence, of giving, of wholeness, is silence. We know that serious things have to be done in silence, because we do not have words to measure the immeasurable. In silence people love, pray, listen, compose, paint, write, think, suffer. These experiences are all occasions of giving and receiving, of some encounter with forces that are inex-haustible and independent of us. These are easily distin-guishable from our routines and possessiveness as silence is distinct from noise.8 November-December 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving the Practice of Silence Not only nuns and monks, but all of us need to retrieve the art and practice of silence. We need to dip deeply into the silent abyss of self, of God, of God in the self and the self in God, We need to explore the emptiness and the fullness that lie within us. We need silence. Notes 1 Abhishiktananda, "The Upanishads and Advaitic Experience," in The Further Shore (New Delhi: I.S.P.C.K., 1984), p. 117. 2 Buddhist traditions also see a triple relationship: compassion, rooted ¯ in egolessness, which in turn is rooted in mindfulness. These three are intimately connected. See Sogyal Rinpoche, The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying (San Francisco: Harper, 1992), esp. pp. 59-72, 116-122, 188-201. 3 The first lines of "The Hound of Heaven." 4 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1954), esp. pp. 76~89. "Let him who cannot be alone beware of community. Let him who is not in community beware of being alone. ¯. The mark of solitude is silence, as speech is the mark of community. Silence and speech have the same inner correspondence and difference as do solitude and community. One does not exist without the other. Right speech comes out of silence, and right silence out of speech. Silence does not mean dumbness, as speech does not mean chatter. Dumbness does not create solitude and chatter does not create fellowship" (p. 78). s See Catherine of Siena: The Dialogue, trans. Suzanne Noffke OP (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), on the "cell of self-knowledge," pp. 25, 118, 122, 125, 135, and 158. 6 Theodore Pereira in "Eloquence in Silence, Healing in Stillness," Indian Theological Studies 33 (June 1996): 99-126, has written about different types of silences. 7 "Silence itself is expressed in several ways. We know silences of contempt and of joy, of pain and of pleasure, of consent and of solitude." Jean-Luc Marion, God without Being (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991), pp. 53-54. ~ Ralph Harper, The Sleeping Beauty (London: Harvill Press, 1955), pp. 110-111. The word "men" in the original was changed to "people" to accommodate current usage. Review for Religious KENNETH C. RUSSELL The Dangers of Solitude ~o~e~oe ldi!a nTgheerrse oisf as ololintugd tera. dAitniodn t hoef wwaarrnniinngg sw hoauvlde- bneo th ceormmiets solely from cenobites suspicious of solitaries off doing "their own thing." Religious who have the highest regard for the blessings and joys of the life of aloneness with God have tempered their enthusiasm with cautionary words about the special difficulties the solitary is likely to encounter. Thomas Merton, for example, warns that "sordid difficulties and uncertainties" attend .the life of even interior solitude,l Authors from the first centuries of the church conjure up frightening pictures of the demons who lie in wait for the unsuspecting hermit, while modern writers warn newcomers to the desert that solitude will force them to confront the disturbing image of their true self. The message is clear: more awaits the novice hermit than the beauties of nature and the spiritual delights which ancient and contemporary enthusiasts of the eremitical life tend to emphasize. I suppose that most contemporary solitaries would agree that demons in one guise or another must be wrestled with and that it can, indeed, be a distressing experience to come face to face with the self we usually avoid in a flurry of activity. However, I also suspect that most hermits are somewhat amused by both the modern and the ancient depiction of their lot. They would be only too happy to confess that there are no monsters writhing in the Kenneth C. Russell last wrote for our March-April 2000 issue. His address remains 40 Landry Street, Apt. 1505; Vanier, Ontario; K1L 8K4 Canada. November-December 2000 E5-7-5 Russell ¯ The Dangers of Solitude corners of their huts and that the identity crisis so precious to their contemporaries does not keep them awake nights. What they actually confront, it seems, is a routine cycle of sun and cloud on a prairie stretching clear to the horizon. There are no mountains or valleys to speak of. Their bad days are as unremarkable as their good ones. They struggle against subtle temptations, not spectacular ones. It has always been so. The 12th-century Cistercian Aelred of Rievaulx recognized this in his hard-hitting Letter to a Recluse, addressed to his elderly sister but written with less seasoned solitaries in mind? So did his contemporaries Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes, who wrote shorter and less theologically dense letters to male recluses who had asked their advice.3 Twelfth-century recluses lived in circumstances that are quite different from those in which most modern hermits seek solitude. But this does not mean that the letters of Peter and Bernard are merely quaint witnesses to a bygone era. The basics of the eremitical life are constant across the centuries. They are also unaffected by the way in which different solitaries choose to live the eremitical life. Whether the solitary is a recluse, a hermit, or a homeless wanderer like Benedict Joseph Labre does not radically modify the eremitical life. Consequently the letters Peter and Bernard wrote to 12th-century male monastic recluses remain relevant to male and female solitaries of all kinds, even today. Indeed, it seems to me that their practical orientation makes them especially useful. Therefore, I want to focus on the difficulties these authors see arising when the honeymoon period of the eremitical life--which may last a good long time--is finally over. In highlighting some of the minor difficulties which can grow into major problems if not attended to, it is not my intention to present a negative view of the solitary life. It does have dark days; it would not be a human enterprise if it did not. However, in focusing on the gray periods, I am not denying its spells of fine weather. I am merely reiterating the warning uttered down the centuries that people who wander off into the desert on their own had better know what they are about. Peter the Venerable's Letter to Ghislebert Peter the Venerable, the great abbot of Cluny, was, by his own admission, a very busy man. In fact, he shocks us a bit by admitting that he read the letters from a Cluniac recluse named Ghislebert in Review for Religious his choir stall on Holy Saturday. He claims that he had simply not been able to find a moment to read them earlier. Peter may have been rushed, but he nevertheless knew something about the eremitical life. Not only did he himself periodically spend time in solitude, but he had pastoral experience in directing monks who sought a solitary retreat for a limited period or for life. There were actually a large number of hermits living in the woods near Cluny. Peter the Venerable, then, knew what he was talking about when he replied to Ghislebert's request for guidance. The key to Peter's advice is the emphasis he puts on the idea that, as a recluse, Ghislebert has been buried with Christ. We do not know the nature of the liturgical ceremony with which Ghislebert was committed to his cell, but other sources indicate that the idea of being buried with Christ and dead to the world was sometimes dramatically represented by using funeral rites to initiate such enclosure. In any case, Peter emphasizes that, if his effort to live as a recluse is going to succeed, Ghislebert had better be sure that he is indeed dead to the world and the world dead to him. To drive home the point, Peter quotes the desert father Arsenius: "Flee people, be silent, and you will be saved." In short, be what you have set out to be and all will be well. Although we may feel a little ill-at-ease with the medieval idea of the recluse being rather literally buried with Christ, it is obvious that any new solitary needs to make a definitive break with the world and his or her past to get off to a good start. He or she has to be serious about being marginal. But, for all the images of being cut off and buried, the reality is that a living human being goes into the desert. He or she wants to be there, of course, but the spiritual and especially the psychological conditioning to solitude is not achieved by a mere act of will. The hermit, in fact, begins with some interior dividedness. Part of the self has no interest in disappearing. Inevitably the life force will rise up against the isolation and denial of achievement that the solitary life demands. Hermits also soon discover, as the Carthusian Guigo II puts it, that they are a crowd unto themselves. They are, indeed, the doorway through which the world presses into the cell. They may succeed in finding a quiet spot on the sidelines of society, but the Hermits soon discover that they are a crowd unto themselves. November-December 2000 Russell ¯ The Dangers of Solitude internal vacuum created by their withdrawal makes them vulnerable to the imagination's readiness to reassert their right to a place in the world. Since hermits have what we might term a "weak" present, the mind tends to take refuge in either the past or the future. Bernard of Portes will highlight the way in which the past crowds into the hermit's mind. Peter the Venerable puts more emphasis on the daydreams about the future which exploit the hermit's status to draw him away from his solitude. He pictures the monk turned hermit imagining that he feels the tabs of a bishop's miter on the back of his necl~ or fantasizing that he is the wise, holy, and much admired abbot of a large monastic community. This is all nonsense, of course, and surely most beginners are as amused by the tricks the imagination plays as Peter the Venerable is. What is not funny is that these silly thoughts can trouble prayer. It is also true, unfortunately, that small threads can weave themselves into strong ropes. If hermits are not careful, they can convince themselves that they are made for something better than the sorry life of a solitary. A more serious pressure to "return from the dead" and reenter the hustle and bustle of.life, bit by bit, springs from the essential nature of the solitary existence. Hermits have to live without the external momentum that social interaction usually provides. They are not carried along by the excitement of what is going on at their workplace, nor can they look forward to parties or sports events to distract them. Unfortunately, unless solitaries maintain their focus on whatever is the task of the moment, their day-to-day existence will begin to feel dull and wearisome. The obvious way to relieve this lethargy is for the solitary to engage in a small amount of pastoral or counseling activity. This sounds like a psychologically sound idea, especially to modern Christians, who are more than a little suspicious of the way hermits pull away from the good causes "activists" think so important. Peter the Venerable, however, is not so sure. He is afraid that this public ministry will become addictive. Instead of relieving the hermits' boredom so that they can return to the solitary life refreshed, each turn outward makes solitude all the more unbearable and the turn away from it all the easier. What looks like a solution to the pressures of the eremitical regime can destroy a hermit's ability to live the solitary life. "Doing good" can do a hermit in. A second consequence of the turn outward is that the solitaries' Review for Religious availability attracts people who offer two enticing things: prestige and cash. Since the strict eremitical life deprives hermits of the ordinary opportunities to see themselves mirrored in the reaction of others, Peter the Venerable rightly fears that Ghislebert will take the high esteem in which he is held by those he helps as the true measure of his worth. The abbot sees a further danger in the money that the hermit will be offered for his services. With all the good intentions in the world, Ghislebert can easily find himself managing a little charitable fund which will grow, as such things do, until, as Peter puts it, he is putting up buildings and demolishing himself. Peter's point would seem to be that hermits who are not perfectly honest about their motivations can make a place for themselves in the world. They can keep an address in the woods, as it were, and still be part of society. The price they pay, unfortunately, is the abandonment of their original commitment. History offers many examples which confirm that the hardest thing in the world for solitaries is actually to be what they profess to be. Aelred of Rievaulx was very hard on the way in which solitaries drift into outside activities. He sharply admonished them to wake up to the facts of their vocation. "When you are pressured to get involved: Tu sede, tu tace, tu sustine. Sit still, keep quiet, and stick it out! Period! Leave the doing of good deeds to those who .have the responsibility for such tasks." The solitary's fundamental temptation, it seems, is to focus on something other than God. According to Peter, this can be anything from good works to an obsession with health or appearance. "Doing good" can do a hermit in. Bernard of Portes's Letter to Rainald The Carthusian Bernard of Portes agrees with Peter the Venerable that solitaries need to be on guard against the distractions that are likely to entice them away from their fundamental commitment. He is particularly sensitive, however, to the spiritual and psychological repercussions of the hermit's withdrawal from society. He understands very well that the social self will not go lightly into solitude. Though hermits are united to all believers and, indeed, all humanity in their union with Christ in his church, the social self wants to strut its stuff in the midst of the diversions November-December 2000 Russell * The Dangers of Solitude Hermits do not have the social status they enjoyed in the 12th century. of the marketplace. It does not want to be shut away with not much more than God to focus on. Therefore, Bernard warns Rainald that he must expect a spell of bad weather sooner or later. One day he might be hit by a wave of sadness and the next be in a bad mood and irritable. He will find tapes from his past running in his head while he reedits the script of what he said and did. A troupe of lewd thoughts will stage its floor show one day, and lukewarnmess flood in the next. It seems that there is no escape from these inner storms and flat stretches. Indeed, Bernard maintains that hermits go into the desert specifically t6 wrestle with these elements that distract us from God. They are, we might say, the psychological echoes of a hermit's attachment to the world he or she claims to have renounced. Bernard of Portes warns hermits that, because they are no longer carried along by the current of daily life in society, they will be the targets of acedia and sadness. Acedia, a listless psychospiritual condition, weighs so heavily on its victims that some escape from the boredom o'f the here and now into dreams of what has been and might yet be while others slip into the torpor of chronic fatigue. This affliction, which involves a hanging back from the initial vocational commitment and a failure to actualize it in the present moment, "detemporalizes" hermits. It weakens their focus on the here and now and sets them adrift. Therefore they look outward for things to occupy their mind and fill their time. Bernard says it is very important for hermits to give their life a certain self-generated dynamism by moving from one activity to another th~'oughout the day. Oddly enough, this is in accord with the traditional wisdom that the secret of the eremitical life is "Keep it moving." Bernard also emphasizes meditation and advises Rainald to be totally present to the words he is saying when he recites the Office. Bernard, it is quite clear, believes that acedia can be held at bay if a hermit puts his or her mind to it and lives in the present moment. Sadness, however, is another matter. Bernard seems convinced that an occasional period of feeling down is an inescapable feature of the eremitical life. Sadness is, I suppose, a pit into which an Review for Religious individual ill-suited for solitude might tumble, but this does not seem to be what Bernard has in mind. He is describing, not a chronic or pathological condition, but the normal downturns of life--which the hermit feels more intensely because of his or her isolation. On the spiritual level, the alternation of these strong and weak periods is inevitable in view of the ebb and flow of God's grace. If acedia pulls one away from the present, sadness can be said to sink one into it. Sadness is the clouding over of the eternal horizon of hope which draws us forward. Without the attraction of the ultimate goal--which is, remember, the sole dynamic element in a hermit's life--the individual is oppressed by the miseries of the present. For no good reason, anger can well up in the solitary and rail away at the self or other people: "Nothing they do is ever any good, and nothing I try ever works out!" Such slack times call for patience, because, once again, the temptation is to shift attention away from God and the love that is his due. The self, whether proud or inadequate, whether much sought after or neglected, must not become the primary object of the hermit's attention. Application to Modern Hermits Is any of this applicable to modern hermits living in country cabins and cheap city apartments? I think so. Times have certainly changed, but the leisure of the hermit can still go flat, and money remains a worrisome issue. Unlike their 12th-century counterparts, modern hermits do not have to figure out how to channel their excess funds to the poor without attracting a crowd of beggars, but they do have to worry about how to live apart from the world and still earn their keep. Unless they are supported by a religious congregation or order, paying their bills and providing some measure of stability in an unsettled time can be a real preoccupation. Indeed, it can shipwreck their project altogether. Pride, which Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes see as a major threat to hermits, would seem to be less of a worry these days. Solitaries are looked up to once again, but the applause is not unanimous. In fact, many people who give their lives to the service of Christ and his poor question the sense of such a calling. Certainly hermits do not have the social status they enjoyed in the 12th century. In any case, while many religious who become November-December 2000 Russell ¯ The Dangers of Solitude With no one else to worry about, they can become obsessed with every ache. solitaries identify themselves as hermits, most lay hermits have no official status of any kind. They live a hidden life which is just that, hidden. The lack of social status does not mean, of course, that hermits are immune to the temptation to take a little secret pride in the uniqueness of their calling. Pride, however, does not seem to be the great danger it was to hermits in the Middle Ages. Certainly relevant today, however, is the emphasis Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes put on the need for the hermit to exist in the now. This almost Buddhist focus on being present to the moment is for both of them basic to the eremitical life. Without this absorption in the here and now, distractions press in. The hermit, to borrow a phrase from the world of sports, "loses his or her concentration" on the worship of God in unending prayer. This is a major problem, but, given the restrictions of the solitary life, it manifests itself in small and sometimes silly ways. For example, hermits may get too wrapped up in their work or turn repairs to their dwelling into a full-scale redecorating project. They can become finicky fussbudgets who insist that every item in their cell be lined up just so. Worse yet, with no one else to worry about, they can become obsessed with every ache and sniffle. What are we to make of Peter the Venerable's condemnation of the tendency of hermits to make themselves useful to their fel-low Christians by offering them the fruit, as it were, of their con-templative silence? Must we conclude that he, and Bernard as well, would censure the spiritual direction and parish activities in which some contemporary hermits get involved? Not necessarily. In their letters both authors emphasize--and we must keep in mind that they were writing to recluses, that is, to solitaries who in theory were totally cut off from the world--that the singularity of the eremitical life means that hermits will have to work out what is best for them. Therefore, while Bernard borrows from the cus-toms of the Carthusians to make all kinds of suggestions to Rainald about the details of his life, he realizes that it is up to the hermit to exercise discretion in choosing what suits him. Consequently, we can conclude that, although Peter and Bernard show that it is easy for hermits to delude themselves about why they are rendering this or that occasional service, it is up to them to determine, after Review for Religious taking counsel, what fosters their aloneness with God and what hinders it. I suspect that there are times when novice solitaries, going through a dark period, might welcome the sight of a few demons raising cain in their living room. They might even be glad to summon up the self-absorption required for the drama of a first-class identity crisis. Anything exciting and novel would be a relief. What they have to contend with, however, day in and day out, as Peter and Bernard remind them, is the subtle task of remaining faithful to their original commitment in all kinds of psychological weather. They have much to gain and much to lose. Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes, who shared a high regard for the solitary life, warn them, therefore, to take care. Notes ' Thomas Merton, "Notes for a Philosophy of Solitude," in his Disputed Questions (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1960; Noonday Book, 1976), p. 165. 2 A Rule of Life for a Recluse, trans. Mary Paul MacPherson, in The Works of Aelred of Rievaulx, Vol. 1: Treatises, The Pastoral Prayer, Cistercian Fathers Series, no. 2 (Spencer, Massachusetts: Cistercian Publications, 1971). 3 Neither the letter of Peter the Venerable to Ghislebert nor Bernard of Portes's letter to Rainald has, as far as I know, been translated into English. The Latin text and a French translation of Bernard's letter can be found in Lettres des premiers chartreux, Vol. 2, introduction, critical text, French translation, and notes by "un chartreux" (Sources chr~tiennes, no. 274; Paris: Cerf, 1980), pp. 50-79. For the Latin text of Peter's letter, see Giles Constable, The Letters of Peter the Venerable, Vol. 1 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1967), pp. 27-41. November-December 2000 MARY BETH MOORE A Spiritual Direction Connie drew the heavy drape across the window, noting the ast gray light filtering from the west. She turned on a small lamp on one side of the room and lit the vanilla candle at the other. Immediately its aroma permeated the small space. She selected a Mozart disc from the handful of CDs near the love seat, placed it carefully on the turntable, pressed play, and adjusted the volume so that the maestro's graceful, precise notes were barely audible, as subtle as the candle. She paused, looking slowly to each corner until satisfied by the atmosphere she had created. Free of clutter, the parlor was just large enough for the love seat, chair, and coffee table. She sat down on the chair. Connie never sat until she was satisfied. She was a short, heavy woman and, since it was not easy for her to get out of a chair, she considered the act of getting into it. She had a few moments before her guest arrived, and this time was also planned. The guest or, more precisely, the directee required the kind of attention one must work up to. So she made an effort to appreciate the room for its own sake. She awaited the security these preparations usually brought. She summoned the attitude of inner peace which any directee had a right to expect of her, breathing deeply, ignoring the slight pulse in her legs, ankles, even noting the contradiction between attending to a pleas-ant carnal sensation--the candle--and determinedly shutting out the unpleasant. She made herself breathe. Connie had been a spiritual director for almost twenty years, Mary Beth Moore SC writes from 3496 Jerusalem Avenue; Wantagh, New York 11793. Review for Religious and people liked her. She had talent in this abstruse area, and she knew this because her directees said so. Most of her clients were nuns, participants in a lifestyle whose subtle conflicts she knew as her own, having been a nun now for forty years. Relationships: community, friends, principals, superiors. Even, occasionally, a romantic entanglement. And, of course, the relationship with God. Connie never told them what to do. She listened. She asked ques-tions. She recalled for the searcher his or her own best qualities. (Yes, even the occasional priest or layman found his way to her.) Generosity. Loyalty. Courage. Connie never mi~de these things up. Yes, that was the talent. Seemingly from thin air, she would recall a point the directee had made two months before, or ask precisely the right question. "What must you do to grow in this sit-uation?" The question was perhaps trite, but the answers never were. Stammering or articulate, passionate or cool, the directee usually responded with a perfectly credible plan of action, one whose truthfulness went to the heart of the matter. She had learned to expect the creativity that her directees brought with them. Still, Connie did not consider herself creative. She thought of herself as a modest person, and attributed the results to God's grace. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a face that had always been plain, and was now old. Of course, Connie had not once seen her own brown eyes transformed with the glow of the full attention she gave to the directees. They simply thanked her. She expected nothing more. At the sound of the doorbell, Connie took hold of the chair arms and, giving herself a boost, stood and steadied herself before crossing the short distance to the front door. She was pleasantly nervous for this encounter with her client, and she hurried as much as she could, knowing how uncomfortable it was to wait at her door. The Bronx brownstone faced southeast toward the Sound and Long Island, and through the winter a stiffwind blew almost steadily. She opened the door to see a petite woman framed against the dark corridor of the street, hopping around on the stoop to cope with the cold. The sky behind her was clear, but dark. The city lights obliterated all but the highest-hung stars. "Marilyn, my dear, come in quickly before the wind knocks you down." "It almost did. I parked a block away, and--" "Did you meet much traffic?" Connie took Marilyn's coat and shivered at the cold that rolled off of it. November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction "Som'e, as usual. The Cross Bronx is always crowded." "Oh, that's a terrible road. I always feel glad when I turn off. A cup of tea before we start?" "I would love it, if it's no trouble. It sounds so good." "No trouble at all. Go in and make yourse.lf comfortable. I'll be right back." She indicated the room she had just prepared, and waited to be sure her guest was seated before disappearing into the inner quarters to make tea. She returned with a tray and two steaming cups. They were silent as they fixed the tea to their lik-ing. Part of Connie's skill was to suppress small talk as the pre-lude to spiritual direction. Chatter cluttered the spirit, she believed. She had once lived as a hermit for three months, and the disci-pline served her well. After a suitable interval she moved to her cus-tomary opener. "So, tell me, what brings you to spiritual direction?" "Ah, yes. Well, I have the intuition, this notion. It haunts me and I feel almost, I don't know, maybe, embarrassed to share it. Or even ashamed--though maybe that is too strong a word. I've tried to discuss it, get a hold, but I." Connie listened as the other woman stuttered, and felt a tug of compassion. She leaned ever so slightly toward her, her eyes widening to lend support to the recitation. A sexual problem per-haps. Everything supposedly out in the open these days, but the unique turns of the human heart, and the struggle to articulate them! She waited. ". this notion, and others don't want to hear, or maybe can't hear. Almost a conviction actually." "A conviction that ." Connie was poised, waiting for the other to look up. "I don't want to offend you, as well. But I suppose it's foolish to come and beat around the bush. You see--" "'I assure you, my dear, I won't be offended. I'm eager to hear what you have to say." "A conviction that it's over. Over, over, over." Connie frowned, noted the slightest wave of impatience with the conversation's turn. "You'll have to tell me what 'it' is, I think." "This." She spread her hands as if her meaning should be obvi-ous, indicating the candle, the lamp, and Connie herself with thrusts of her chin. "Convents. Middle-aged women living in polite little groups, good-hearted, but accommodated. Comfortable. Convents, parlors, single beds, obsessive neatness, vanilla candles. Over." Review for Religious "Leave my candle out of it, at least," Connie said, more emphatically than she had intended. She was offended, but she did not realize it quite yet. "O.K. Your candle may be spared." Marilyn grinned. "But as for the other elements, well, the writing is on the wall." "Nebuchadnezzar? A kingdom about to fall?" Connie tried to get her bearings. The other's hesitancy had disappeared, her voice got stronger by the sentence, and Connie began to think that her earlier, tentative approach might have been a ploy. "Yes. That's exactly right, Connie. The humble kingdom we built for ourselves that did so much good. Children we taught, sick we nursed. It was a world in itself, a kingdom if you will. We had a place in a religiosity that was shared by Catholics every-where. In that Catholic world, we had a mystique of holiness, otherness. We were a cheap labor pool. Now others can do what we did, without living a special way of life." She took deep breath while Connie waited with alarm. "I believe our lifestyle is ending." Buy time. That was Connie's second idea, after the first one, something like, who do you think you are? Who are you, sup-posedly asking me for help, boldly upending a tradition? One that needs no defense. "I must keep eye contact," she thought. "Marilyn, too, is a committed religious, sincere, middle-aged, a seeker like myself." She was unused to such a strong emotion that was not compassion. She focused with effort. "Fall back on tech-nique," she urged herself. When she finally spoke, her voice was light. "Well, that's radical, for sure. Possibly a bit reductive. I'll need some time to take in the idea. But, in any case, you know that spir-itual direction does not provide answers. Why don't you tell me about your prayer. What's happening there?" "Connie, don't you see? That is what's happening. I pray, but I feel afraid. This sense of winding down . . . it, it assaults me. This is the result of my reading the signs of the times. And, very selfishly, I wonder what will happen to us. I'd actually like some-body to refute me." "'Prayer is the balance of mind and heart. Perhaps you think too much." November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction "Prayer is the balance of mind and heart. Perhaps you think too much." "Oh, maybe. It's just when I have an insight I always think it's correct. I'm not pious, either." Marilyn's voice had softened. Connie saw that she had heard her words as a correction, as in fact they had been. She had men-tioned fear, a key word in Connie's work, the rope binding the spirit, an adversary of growth. Usually Connie would have asked about it, but this evening it suddenly seemed like too much trou-ble. She was impatient, her back began to ache. She sought for a middle ground. "Or perhaps I think too little. You're a challenge to me, and I'm not sure if I can be as objective as I like. Can you"--she searched for the way back to Marilyn's point--"can you stay with the questions?" She got a little stronger. "Ride the questions." Marilyn thrust out her chin, as if shg regarded the question as an object in the room. There was a pulse of silence. "Yeah. That's a good idea." She smiled and looked at Connie with a glint of humor. "Good luck. I'll pray with you." There was a notable pause, and Connie sighed before turn-ing to topics of lesser import. Her back pain was easing, and she felt relieved that the conversation had returned to a manageable place. She was no coward. She had borne others' tears and rage at God. But a messy squabble with herself as partner was not at all congenial. She had put the balance back. She would pray with and for Marilyn. Both were careful to refrain from gossip in the spiritual-direc-tion setting; the set of those who chose such support was small, and many knew each other. Still, there were allowable facts--some-one's new job, an elderly sister's passing. And, after the intense discussion of the inner life, it was consoling to take in the mellow light and the full attention, each from the other. When they had finished the tea, and the candle wax threatened to spill on the table top, Marilyn moved to go. Connie helped her with her coat, saw her out into the cold air. The street was quieter now and a single star, maybe a planet, winked above the streetlights. She closed the door and went back to her direction room to turn off the light and blow out the candle. The wax had leaked onto the table into a viscous pool. "Ride the question," she repeated softly aloud to herself. She had been pleased to hit upon a phrase Revie~v for Religious that seemed to help her directee, but, as she turned it over in her mind now, looking at the empty room, it sounded trite, facile. The dialogue with Marilyn echoed in her mind, and a sensation rip-pled quickly, like the hint of an unpleasant duty she could not quite remember. She stepped away from the room with unusual haste and headed for the community recreation room and her favorite TV program. When Connie got to the community room, Sarah was watch-ing a public TV program--something about endangered species-- with the intensity of a graduate student. While she made eye contact with Connie, she held up a forefinger to postpone conversation until the program seg-ment ended. Connie sank into the chair and waited. She did not mind. It was more inter-esting to observe Sarah than to watch the parade of facts on the screen. She could easily see in the woman the ardent girl she had taught thirty years before, and, in her unsettled state of mind, that girl seemed to inhabit the room again. Sarah's field was biology, and she brought her expertise along with boundless energy to a nonprofit agency that monitored the environ-ment. Connie studied her with detached affec-tion. What was it that made Sarah so interesting? The combination of ambition and idealism, thought Connie. She was the perfect nun for our time. Connie mused about the effect of her own ministry. She had joined Sarah and the others in the brownstone house the year she finished her term as novice director. It had been her initiative to work free-lance in spiritual direction, and the community con-firmed' her choice. Her clients found her by word of mouth. She spent her day much as she had with the novices, in a disciplined but unhurried rhythm of prayer, study, and client appointments. It was Sarah who persuaded Connie to get a paying job two years ago. Some of the sisters in her own house had argued against it, but Sarah persisted. She pointed out to Connie that she com-plained about being the one to answer telephone solicitations and wait for plumbers. Sarah, the realist, reminded the community that their income base was shrinking, since the elderly sisters far outnumbered the younger wage-earners. Connie began to mind She could see in the woman the ardent girl she had taught thirty years before. November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction not having even a modest paycheck to present for the running of the house, and the quota for the retired sisters' care. The only thing she did not tell Sarah and the others was that she was tired of not having tales to "tell at supper about the outside world they inhabited each day. What could she say about spiritual direction? In that field there were no general issues, no little anecdotes, to report, only secrets of the heart whose value was discovered as the directee conferred it. So Connie took a job as the secretary in a little Catholic school in the Bronx. She bolstered the idealistic young man who was prin-cipal and lent an ear to the parents who rushed through with for-gotten lunches and umbrellas. She now had tales for the dinner table with the community, and savored even more the evenings of direction. She did not allow herself to miss the easy pace she had once enjoyed. She was often tired. She worried intermittently about losing weight, especially when Sarah inaugurated a new restric-tion in the community diet. She gave up insisting that they buy whole milk: it was not worth the commentary on cholesterol. But these were small .annoyances, predictable, familiar. If the occa-sional ache or pain pressed itself too deeply into her conscious-ness, her mind might leap to the future for a moment. But the pain subsided, or was integrated into what she chose to put up with. It was against her principles to measure herself by a worldly standard. She gazed at the TV for a bit, savoring the comfort of her (avorite chair until the program finished and Sarah pressed the mute button. "How was your day?" Connie asked. "Really productive," Sarah answered brightly. "I spent the morning editing that junior high 'natural city' curriculum. Jake did a great job with the project and I told him so. Then I had a meeting with the Friends of the Harbor committee. Giuliani's guy stopped in. Nice person actually, said he would continue to press our concerns with the mayor. He sounded sincere, but we'll keep the pressure on anyway. Peter was pleased." "Peter?" "Grossman, the earth sciences professor from Bronx Community College, that one who chairs--" "Oh yes, I remember him." Connie made it a point to keep up with the cast of cha[acters that peopled Sarah's offbeat job. "Did Jake's wife have the baby yet?" Review for Religious "Three days ago! I thought I'd told you. Mother and daugh-ter are doing fine." Sarah described the particulars of the birth in detail, then trained eager eyes on Connie. "How was your day?" Connie's mind returned to her session, where a seasoned nun had suggested that religious life would become a thing of the past. It was an abstract idea, after all. The common room she shared now with Sarah was perfectly real and stable. The house had been paid for. "Connie, your day?" Sarah's voice called her from her reverie. "Anything wrong?" "Wrong? Oh no." She hesitated. "Do you think about the future, Sarah? I mean our community. Do you think there will be nuns living in this house in twenty years? Youngish nuns, enthu-siastic like yourself, women who believe in prayer, the vows? Some of my directees"--she tried to be deliberately vague--"a few think our way of living is a thing of the past." Sarah frowned. "It could be, you know. Let's face it. No one has joined the community at all in the past five years, and those of us in it aren't getting any younger. It could be. But, hey, God our Mother will bring to birth something new. Birth, growth, decay, matter recycle into new growth. It's a universal process. Why should we escape it?" She reached for the TV wand."Do you want to watch anything else?" "You've thought about this?" "Oh, it crosses my mind now and again. Shall I turn this off?." Sarah waved the remote again. "Sure." Connie could see that Sarah was preparing to leave the community room, and a wave of desolation passed over her. She longed to call out, "Please don't go, yet," but she knew perfectly well such a request would startle Sarah. "She'd probably think I'm having some kind of attack," Connie thought. "What reason could I give for the need of her presence?" Nothing came to her. Sarah was at the door now, turning back, her gaze objective and ldnd. "You O.K., Connie?" "I'm just fine," Connie answered quickly. "Sufficient for the day is the trouble thereof." Sarah was satisfied. "Sleep well, then." "You too." Connie was alone now in the familiar room, and hothing could threaten her. Soon her strange moment of panic would pass, and she would move to her usual routine, fold back the newspaper, November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction enjoy the silence. She had an honorable job. She loved Sarah, and the others with whom she lived and shared an uncomplicated love of friendship. She scanned the headlines, then tossed them aside to read the Arts page, a book review, but she struggled to concen-trate. "Loneliness has no hold over me," she thought. Loneliness and solitude were the same companion in different dress, the bite of one and the consolation of the other alternating throughout her days. But the mood of release she sought at the end of the day still eluded her. She focused on the gratitude she must render for the events of the day, and recalled a grandmother who had come to the school to deliver a forgotten lunch. In her mind's eye she could see the weary black face transformed with smiles when the child hove into view. But, when the memory dimmed, a keen discomfort reasserted itself. She pushed through her rote evening prayer, "Now Lord you may dismiss your servant in peace, for my eyes have seen your sal-vation. A light of revelation to the Gentiles and a glory for your people Israel." Simeon, welcoming his life's end, having seen the object of his heart's desire. "He was lucky," she thought. The prayer did not seem to help at all. She turned off the light in the common room and made her way out by the light of the street lamp filtering through the blinds. She turned toward the kitchen. "A nice cup of tea," she thought. "It will clear my mind." She made the tea. She measured out her usual two spoonfuls of sugar, tasted it, then furtively added a third. She sipped it slowly and regarded the clock, whose subtle whine could be heard in the silence. "I tell my directees to face their fears. And so must I," Connie concluded. "What was it, then, old age?" But she dismissed this quickly. Maybe prettier, fitter women, yes, even nuns might struggle with this, but she had never known herself that way. She had long ago accommodated herself to aches and wrinkles. Nor was it fear of death. Not yet. Her mother, her aunts, stout women all, had lived into their nineties. "I probably have a few decades in me," she mused. What had Marilyn said? "It's over." That was the phrase that had ripped her, as if a web of equilibrium she hardly knew existed was torn, and its sundering had discovered a category of feeling she could not recognize. "Now, Lord, you may dismiss your servant in peace, because my eyes have seen your salvation." Simeon's words came back Review for Religious again, with the picture of the bearded sage, smiling and content, holding an infant whom he knew certainly to be the savior. Who did he think he was? "I'm jealous of him," she thought. And, since the habit of honesty was well established, Connie began to name the struggle. The child Simeon held had just been named Jesus, newly circumcised, accompanied by proud parents. She was jealous of Simeon's proximity, his luck to be in the right place at the right time. She was envious of the consolation of touch, the embrace that illuminated him, at once revealing the true iden-tity of the child. But most of all she was jealous of his certainty. As a young idealistic woman, and through all the vicissitudes of the years, she had fallen back on the certainty that she was doing God's will. And, just as the meeting with a newborn child had transformed Simeon from a bumbling old man into a prophet, so she had thought her lifestyle would transform her. She looked around the kitchen slowly, scrutinizing the cabi-nets, the fridge. Stalling. The fear she felt was not provoked by the encounter with Marilyn, but rather unmasked by it. Fear, raw fear, as when a young child is lost in a crowded arena. Connie placed both hands on the teacup and concentrated on the warmth that spread to her palms. She recalled, with effort, that she was an adult. But, slowly, understanding came to her. What was threatened was certainty and specialness. The fear in her belly suggested that she had bartered for those goods with the austerity of her lifestyle and her vows. Yet she herself had taught the basic truth of spiri-tual direction so many times: All that is not love must be rooted out. She could not blame anyone or anything external for her new situation. She sat thus at the kitchentable for a long while, and the tea, untouched, grew cold. By and by she simply admitted that an inner battle was just beginning; she might as well go to bed. Fear would come and go, and grief, too, must attend the process. She lay in bed, listening to the faint sounds of traffic, making an effort to yield to sleep in order to be ready for the next day. But, as she was poised on the mysterious shelf before consciousness falls away, a phrase floated up from the well of memory, a saying she would work with for months to come, "Though a bird be tied to earth by only a thread, still he cannot fly." November-December 2000 a witness response DENNIS j. BILLY Contemplative Religious Witness: A Redemptoristine Monastery At the end of each academic year, I leave my work at the Alphonsian Academy in Rome and spend the summer months as an author in residence at Mount St. Alphonsus, the Redemptorist retreat center in Esopus, New York. During my time there, one of the responsibilities I share with the other members of my community is to celebrate Eucharist at the nearby Redemptoristine monastery of Our Mother of Perpetual Help. This small community of contemplative nuns devotes itself to being what their 18th-century Neapolitan foundress, Maria Celeste Crostarosa (1696- 1755), called a "living memory" of the Holy Savior. My close contact with the sisters there has helped me appreciate more deeply the contemplative dimension of my own vocation. It has also helped me see the intimate relationship between the Redemptorist and Redemptoristine callings, two very different lifestyles-- one apostolic, the other contemplative--deeply devoted to a common charism of proclaiming "plentiful redemption" in Christ. Dennis J. Billy CSSR, a frequent contributor to this review, may be addressed at Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma; Italy. R~view for Religious Spousal Love As a community of women entirely dedicated to contemplation, the sisters at Perpetual Help Monastery maintain a spirit of separation but openness to the world around them. They follow the norms of papal enclosure as laid out in church law and interpreted by their Constitutions and Statutes, but do so with a keen sensitivity that their contemplative vocation places them at the very heart of the local church. In the spirit of Vatican Council II, they have also renewed their way of life to be more in keeping with the spirit and charism of their foundress. In doing so, they have attempted to adapt the contemplative life to the exigencies of North American culture while at the same time taking care to maintain the significant countercultural and eschatological witness that religious life in general and the contemplative life in particular seeks to convey. The result is a small but dedicated group of women religious whose lives are deeply immersed in the mystery of Christ and his body, the church. Verbi sponsa, the recent Vatican instruction on contemplative life and the norms of papal enclosure, describes cloistered nuns as becoming, with the Virgin Mary, "the 'living memory' of the church's spousal love" (§1). I could not read these words without thinking of the special meaning they would have for the Redemptoristines at Esopus and throughout the world. Mary's close.relationship to her Son places her in a position of humble service toward all who turn to her. "To Jesus through Mary" was the way St. Alphonsus de Liguori (1696- 1787) liked to express Mary's role in the economy of salvation. Everything she does is meant to lead us to a closer, more intimate relationship with her Son. Her loving and heartfelt fiat in Luke's Gospel reminds us that it could not be otherwise. Her response to the angel reveals a deep trust in God's trust in her. She became the Mother of God because of her spousal relationship with God, which was itself a gift from God to her and, through her, to all the world. When seen in this light, to be with Mary a "living memory of the church's spousal love" leads quite naturally (perhaps it would be better to say "supernaturally") to being a "living memory of the redeeming Christ." Each remembrance is a single dimension of a To be with Mary a "living memory of the church's spousal love". Ly-95---2 November-December 2000 Billy ¯ Contemplative Religious Witness much larger reality: you cannot have one without the other. Keenly aware of this connection, the Redemptoristines at Esopus proclaim their spousal love for their risen Lord at their daily Eucharist, where he eats with them, drinks with them, and caresses them with the gentle, calming breeze of his Spirit. A Eucharistic Community It is often said that something is not fully experienced until it is remembered. If this saying is true, then the Redemptoristines' desire to become a "living memory" of their Lord must foster a deeper experience of Jesus' presence in their hearts and in their midst. One need only consider the deep spirit of prayerfulness that fills their daily celebration of the Eucharist to see that this is so. These simple celebrations tap into the hidden life of contemplation going on in the deepest recesses of their hearts and reveal the height and depth and breadth of the paschal mystery. The daily Eucharist is the center of the sisters' lives. It immerses them in the mystery of God's love which their lives espouse and puts them in intimate contact with their risen Lord. The Eucharist reminds them of the "eucharistic quality" of the cloistered life itself (see Verbi sponsa, §3). Separation from the world enables the sisters to be present t6 the world on a much deeper level. It enables them to share not only in Jesus' life of kenotic self-offering, but also to join him in his eternal act of thanksgiving to the Father. This close connection between the Eucharist and the sisters' contemplative vocation touches the very heart of the redemptive mystery. It affirms Jesus' ongoing presence in their community and gives meaning to every dimension of their largely hidden life of prayer. The sisters' daily remembrance of Jesus is possible only because of Jesus' continual remembrance of them. They seek to be a living memorial to the living memorial he has left them in the Eucharist. They, more than anyone else I have met, take to heart Jesus' words "Do this in memory of me." In this light, life in the Redemptoristine cloister at Esopus takes on the threefold dimensions of banquet, sacrifice, and presence that characterize the mystery of every Eucharistic celebration. Being a "living memo~ry" of Jesus, in other words, means seeking to give nourishment to others (banquet) through a humble offering of self (sacrifice) in the name and in the company of Jesus, who is "Emmanuel, God wi~h us" (presence). The Review for Religious Eucharist, in other words, not only is the summit of their lives, but permeates everything they do. Without it, there is no way they could continue or even survive. From Death to Life I once had the occasion to experience this eucharistic quality of the sisters' lives in a profound and beautiful way. Sister Mary Regina, one of the sisters in the community, was nearing death after a long-drawn-out battle with cancer. This was happening at the very time I had been scheduled to lead the sisters in their annual ten-day retreat. After learning that Regina's death was drawing near, I fully expected the retreat to be canceled (or at least postponed), since the sisters' hearts were heavy with sorrow and their schedule was already overloaded by the "round the clock" attention Regina's condition demanded. I was ~urprised, therefore, to learn that the community wanted the retreat to go on, despite the added strain it would put on them. I was even more surprised (but also delighted) when, on the first day of the retreat, the prioress asked if it would be all right to celebrate Mass in the infirmary so that Regina could attend from her sickbed. That Eucharistturned out to be the last Regina would ever share in--at least on this side of death. The breaking of the bread took on special significance as we celebrated in the presence of one whose life was ebbing away. The nearness of death brought a special solemnity to our celebration. Regina's silence added depth to our words; her gaze, a quiet calm to our troubled, questioning hearts. The knowledge that she would not be with us much longer affected the way we prayed. Everyone in the room seemed to have one eye fixed on the Lord and the other one on her. And that was the way it should have been, the way the Lord himself wanted it. This was Regina's moment. With her community around her, she was free to be herself before her Lord. Firmly fixed on the host, her eyes told us in a quiet, nonverbal way that Jesus was with her in a way he had never been before. So it is, I believe, with all of us at or near the time of death. Each one of us must one day drink from the same cup. Now it was Regina's turn. Separation from the world enables the sisters to be present on a much deeper level. November-December 2000 Billy ¯ Contemplative Religious Witness Near the end of Mass, I looked around the room and experienced that sense of communion that can only come from hearts united by their common yearning for God. As my eyes moved from face to face, I could sense the pain that the community as a whole and each of its members was experiencing as a result of Regina's illness and imminent death. I could also sense the deep love that bound them to each other and, at this special moment, to Regina. In the midst of the sadness, my gratitude deepened and gave way to a deep sense of peace. The Lord was with us, and that was all that mattered. I closed my eyes and imagined myself in the upper room. The Heart of the Church Contemplatives, we are told, live at the very heart of the church. On this day I was grateful for this brief glimpse God had given me into the heart of a contemplative community. There the simple mysteries of life and death are recognized, pondered, and celebrated. There human existence is plumbed to its depths and experienced in all its wonder and heightened fragility. There the restlessness of the human heart forages in the darkness of divine mystery. There God is allowed to be God and is welcomed, however he chooses to come. Very few of us ai'e called to live as contemplatives in the heart of the church. Those who hear the call and respond to it often find that they have been driven to it by the relentless pursuit of a passionate divine Lover. Happiness would elude them anywhere else. Only there, in the cloister, can they give themselves exclusively to God with all their heart, mind, soul, and strength. Their hidden life behind their monastery walls is the visible reminder of what they have left behind--and journeyed into. So essential is it to the good of the whole that it recedes, almost by necessity, to the background of life's numerous surface activities. Like the heart itself, it is never seen, rarely heard, seemingly still, but always pumping. The heart, one might say, is an appropriate metaphor for monastic enclosure itself. Some of the most vital activity in the entire body takes place within the narrow, confining chambers of the heart. These otherwise empty cavities are formed by the inner contours of the heart's muscle fibers. The constant expansion and contraction of these tissues forces the blood through the chambers Review for Religious and creates enough pressure to make it flow throughout the rest of the body. In a similar way the empty spaces within the cloister are visibly shaped by the rules of monastic enclosure which, firm yet flexible, allow the life of the contemplative community to distinguish itself from the rest of Christ's body in order to perform for it a special function. Here the all-important apostolic dimension of the contemplative life comes to light. The contemplative community plumbs the depths of the Spirit so that the life of the Spirit may flow more freely to all the members of the body. Here the law of inverted magnitudes operates in full force. The contemplative community confines itself in time and space in order to open itself up to and move more deeply into the sacred. This simultaneous movement ("juxtaposition," if you will) of contraction and expansion is at the center of the contemplative experience. Although not everyone is called to live a life of monastic enclosure, all of us are called to foster a contemplative attihade toward life. For us to do so, this dynamic .movement of physical withdrawal and spiritual expansion must somehow come into play for each of us. Active and Contehaplative I began these reflections by stating that my contact with the Redemptoristine community at Esopus has given me a deeper appreciation of the contemplative dimension of my vocation as a Redemptorist, missionary. I also like to think that, in some way, the appreciation has been mutual, giving rise in them to a deeper sense of the apostolic dimension of their lives as contemplative religious. We share a single charism which, although expressed in drastically different lifestyles, brings to light the plentiful redemption wrought for us in the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Contemplative religious, we have seen, live in the very heart of the church. The Redemptoristines, to my mind, do much the same for the apostolic mission of the Redemptorist congregation. Both orders, after all, share common origins and embrace the same motto: Copiosa apud eum redemptio ("With him there is plentiful redemption"). To follow the Lord in his work for the poor and most abandoned (as Redemptorists try to do) is closely tied to being a "living memory" of the risen Lord (as the sisters try to be). Each order focuses on a different dimension of the one redemptive mystery and, for this very reason, is intimately related to the other. Noventber-December 2000 My experience at Esopus has taught me that contemplative religious can best contribute to the apostolic mission of the church by simply being themselves and living whatever Rule they follow with patience, humility, and deep compassion. In doing so, they reveal the depth of their humanity and remind us of the intimacy we are all called to share with the divine. The eucharistic quality of their lives enables them to celebrate the present moment-- whatever it may bring--by sharing the gifts of self-offering and sensitive personal presence. Their life of solitude places them at the very heart of the church's life and ongoing mission. Their enclosed life offers the world a countercultural and eschatological sign of what is still to come, yet somehow already mysteriously present in the deepest recesses of the human heart. Like the Redemptoristines at Esopus, contemplative religious are called to lose themselves in the mystery of the divine in order to find themselves in the face of the very next person they meet. They plumb the depths of human experience in order to move more deeply into the sacred and live in intimate spousal union with their divine Lover. All of them are living reminders of the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. All are visible expressions of the church's living memory of what took place in the person of Jesus Christ and takes place today in his body, the church. Theirs is a message for all times, all places, and all circumstances. Those who hear it will recognize the need to foster in themselves a contemplative attitude toward life. Those who do not will miss a unique opportunity to peer beneath the surface of life and behold, as never before, the innermost treasures of the human heart. Review for Religious ANDRI~ MAUREEN SOETE A Vowed Response to the Postmodern World Tphosetm choadrearcnte wriostrilcds asryem bpetionmgs s, taunddie rde aalnitdie ps roofb oeudr bsyo -sccailelend-tists, sociologists, anthropologists, philosophers, and theologians. All seek to understand the reality, foresee the consequences, and arrive at some satisfactory description and response. Since I am not a theologian, scientist, philosopher, or any of the above, I do not claim to understand this reality, much less propose responses. What I offer is simply my own response as a woman religious, specifically a School Sister of Notre Dame. The Situation of Our Age Postmodern issues have been touching us and coming into our consciousness for some time now. Our world is rapidly chang-ing, and what we once thought were objective, unchangeable real-ities are in fact changing. The "way to be" and the "way to do" for the present generation seems so different from our way. What can all this mean to SSND sisters and associates at this time? This time of change may feel like a breakdown. The world has become so different that we may not like it and may question Andr,~ Maureen Soete SSND has ministered in Japan for thirteen years. This article is the address she gave to an assembly of Japanese and North American School Sisters of Notre Dame in Kyoto on 9 January 2000. Her address is 11 ol Kawarada-cho; Matsugasaki; Sakyo-ku; Kyoto 606, Japan. November-December 2000 Soete * A Vowed Response the direction in which it is heading. Envisioning ourselves living in this new age, we may have the feeling that we do not fit, for what we understood as reality is being challenged. This is not just the usual generation-gap experience that we have all probably experienced from one side or the other. This phenomenon has been observed by many since the first hints of it in the 1970s and is obviously a real cultural shift. The choices for different lifestyles, the questioning of what we considered permanent values, and the challenges to our thinking are in some ways unnerving. We may catch ourselves longing for the good old days--the secure structures, the way students "used to be," and the way convent life was. It almost tempts us to choose to respond by retreating--by going back. These times are being described by the word chaos. Some of the chaotic things that people observe and study are political, eco-nomic, and social oppression; poverty, starvation, and unemploy-ment; the oppression of women; the ecological crisis; nuclear threat; secularism, materialism, and the failure of churches to renew themselves and inspire belief. Chaos causes a great deal of anxiety, but it also provides us with the moment and the call to rediscover our real story and our deepest roots. How Our Foundress Would Respond As followers of Mother Theresa Gerhardinger, we can ask ourselves how she would manage in this age, how .she would respond if she were alive today. We know that our answer would have something to do with our charism. What is it that she passed on to us that is ageless? What is the changeless essence that will survive these times and even give us the hope we need to go on? When we think of Mother Theresa responding to her time and day we think of a strong woman of prayer, a woman of God, a woman in touch with the reality and needs of her day, a woman animated and energized by the conviction that women can change the world, a woman who knew that, if people can change, the world can cMnge too. But at the root of all these images of her was her sense of God's desire and call "that all be one." She longed for the oneness of all in God. She was a woman willing to strug-gle for unity on every level. She could see unity in diversity, for she believed in the rights of individuals and the respect due to each person. She learned the Review for Religious lessons essential for real unity--lessons of love, respect, appreci-ation, tolerance, and trust--first from her own parents and later from her mentors Bishop Wittmann and Father Job. These were her models, inspiring her to foster the same values among her sis-ters and her society. It was her commitment to unity and her drive "to make one" that gave her tireless energy for mission, and could give us the same tireless energy. The Postmodern Age The academic world has come to use the term "postmodern" in an attempt to name this period of the world's history because this is the period in which people are reacting to all that is false and untrue, all that has not worked in our familiar modern age. In some way the choice of the name "postmodern" is like calling the butterfly a "postcaterpillar." "Postcaterpillar" might be a suitable name during the period when we observe that the caterpillar is no more, that what was once the caterpillar now seems dead or half dead, changing unaccountably. But once we see the beautiful creature with bright wings emerge, flutter freely, and take flight, we find ourselves calling it a "butterfly." Similarly, because of the lack of clarity about the future, schol-ars describe the present reality by noting changes from the earlier condition.When all of the characteristics of this age become clear and show some coherence, it will be time to give the new period a name. The world may not reach that point in our lifetimes, but I hope that all of us want to be a part of the creation of the new name. We can do that by appropriately influencing, shaping, and creating some of the characteristics that will emerge. I suggest that a principal characteristic must be unity. That same oneness that was Christ's mission and Theresa Gerhardinger's mission must be our mission too. Failure of the Modern Age The modern age promised us that by science and technology, by dividing the whole, dissecting and labeling every part, and con-trasting one thing with another, it could understand and solve the problems of our world and probe the depths of reality. It promised that the world would be controlled and developed and perfected, and that human beings would reach great heights. But science November-December 2000 [--~2 ¯ Soete ¯ A Vowed Response Our prosperity and plenty come to us on the backs of the poor and oppressed. itself has had to admit that the mysteries of the world are far beyond such probing; that our scientific advances have actually destroyed much of our world and have led us to live in fear of some scientific developments; that actually, in spite of all of our sci-entific progress, we have missed opportunities to expand and develop our spiritual and human potential and have inst(ad created horrendous human misery. MI of the human misery in the world today is a sign that these former beliefs are not working. When I think of the oppression, poverty, ecological recklessness, uncontrolled materialism, and other problems of our day, I can understand why a new generation rejects our old answers. When I hear dogmatic pronouncements from our churches or from our governments about how things should be and see that those very pronouncements bring about more division than unity and hope alnong peoples, I can understand why some of my own young nieces and nephews reject them as incomplete, irrelevant, without meaning in their lives. It is probably true that there have always been famines, always children abused, always conflicts among religious groups, always people oppressed and exploited and murdered--but we have not always known about them with such immediate clarity. Now, thanks to advances in technology, we do. We are informed immediately about what is happening around the world. And we know now what the prophets and economists have been telling us for a long time, that our prosperity and plenty come to us on the backs of the poor and oppressed. And now the poor and oppressed know that too. We can see all of the "signs of the times" on our nightly news programs. It is up to us to read them carefully, interpret them honestly, and respond accordingly. If society is not organizing itself so as to be inclusive of all citizens, but chooses rather to be exclusive, then the developments in the world around us must sig-nal that we are going in the wrong direction. If our lack of respect for our environment cries out to heaven and to us in its misery, if our land is no longer fertile, our water is befouled, and our air is poisoned--if we really see and recognize this, we must know that we are going in the wrong direction. Review for Religious If our neglect of the poor and downtrodden causes our edu-cation and healthcare systems to fail, and if our competitive cul-tures make the lives of many people miserable, then all of that neglect and competition must be the wrong direction. If the signs tell me that life the way we have thus far organized it is not work-ing, that nothing succeeds, that my actions effect disaster for oth-ers, I am obviously moving in the wrong direction. After recognizing all of this, what do we do? We must make choices in response to these signs. We can choose to be "the tired ones" who give up to let someone else lead the renewal. We can choose to be "the selfish ones" who create only our own security and pleasure. Or we can choose to be "the hopeful ones" who will look for new possibilities for ourselves and for the world. I want us to be the ones who choose to be hopeful. I think we must con-tinue to believe that human beings hold the potential to create a world that works for all peoples. Our Vows as a Response I think that as vowed religious we might bring new dimen-sions to the thinking about solutions to world problems and could radically affect outcomes--not by seeing ourselves as an elite group distanced from our neighbors by some holy and private choices, by mysterious vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience, but rather by remembering--and letting ourselves be reignited by--the zeal with which I think we all made our first vows. I mean the per-sonal hope that we would change the world for the better, that we ourselves would bring with us the presence of Christ, that by sharing our love, faith, and hope we would make Christ visible and bring all the world to oneness in God. What happened to that most wonderful zeal and enthusiasm? I think that we religious need to ponder deeply the meaning of our vows and the witness our lives can give, must give, in con-trast to various trends and news events. I think of instances of environmental pollution, of trials for war crimes, of the terroriz-ing of ethnic and religious groups, and of the mother of a young child who could kill another woman's little girl. We seek to be effective in demonstrating hope and bringing it into our world. In a world where millions (including helpless children) suf-fer from the lack of such essentials as food, clothing, shelter, medicine, and education; in a world where people use their wealth November-December 2000 Soete ¯ A Vowed Response to produce more wealth so that they can live in a style that uses up the goods of the earth; in a world where people want more and more and give less and less to the laborers who produce the goods; in a world full of people who throw away and waste without even a thought--in such a world I have promised, we have promised, to use only what we need and to share everything we have. Are we keeping that promise? Would anyone who looks at us, our lifestyles, or our closets notice our choiceto do with less and our willingness to share? Would they be edified, stand in awe of the way that we are keeping our promise? In a world where groups of human beings look upon other groups as lower and with great intolerance seek to get rid of them; in a world where "ethnic cleansing," ways of death, become a way of life for some; in a world where nationalism means that free-dom to be intolerant of the differences of other races or peoples-- in such a world I have promised, we have promised, to love inclusively and to take on Jesus' own reverence and concern for all people, excluding no one. Are we keeping that promise? Would anyone who looks at us, at our way of being with the people with whom we live, at our way of being with the people at our place of ministry, notice our love, tolerance, and respect? Would they be edified and stand in awe of the way we are keeping our promise? In a world where the strong and influential make decisions for the weak; in a world where whole groups of people are not consulted about matters that affect vital areas of their lives; in a world where people are murdered because they disagree--in such a world I have promised, we have promised, to search for God's will and the right direction through dialogue and conversation, con-sultation and collaboration with all concerned. Are we keeping that promise? Would anyone who watches how we lead or partic-ipate in groups of students or teachers or coworkers notice our collaborative style or the way we listen to every person? Wotild they be edified and stand in awe of the way we are keeping our promise? What Then? I have spoken about our vows, emphasizing them as three promises because the term "vows" can sometimes be spiritualized and focused only on our commitment to God. In thinking about them as promises, I had a sense of a great possibility. I began to see Review for Religious that what we promise is more like a radical way that all human beings need to choose if we are to create a world where all people can live with dignity. I Wonder what might happen if we shared these choices of ours more openly among ourselves and witnessed to them more radically with our associates and with our partners in ministry. I am not so sure of our next step. I am not so sure how this small core of friends and others like us might have a good impact on our society and our world. But I think that somehow we can--and I challenge ourselves and others to come alive with that potential. "Striving for Unity" is our charism. We are supposed to be masters of it by now. Why, in our Japan Region alone, if we add up all of our years of religious life, we have more than three thousand years of our SSND lifestyle! I hope that we and others may gather together everyone's good insights and with them create for ourselves an exciting and real-istic dream as we step forward with God into this third millennium. Many of us will probably not be around when the next era gets its name, but--just as we prefer the word "butterfly" to "postcaterpillar" when thinking of the little creature's potential--would we not want the concepts of oneness, tolerance, collaboration, acceptance, and respect to be part of the name given to the next era? Are there initiatives for us to take, or can we at least support and encourage the wonderful people around us who are already dedicating their lives to this conversion and transformation of the earth? Is this not what we want to use our energy and ingenuity for? Is this not a way that we could use our positions as educa-tors and as ministers? Is this not worth the offering of the rest of our lives? We have promised to use only what we need. Are we keeping that promise? November-Decen~ber 2000 LAWRENCE F. BARMANN Mary Ward: Centuries Her Scroll examples from the past Today, amid questions about effective evangelization in the 21st century, about leadership and ~uthority in the Catholic Church, and about women's fuller participa-tion in these efforts and echelons, there is much that can and should be learned from Mary Ward at long last. During her lifetime four hundred years ago, she experi-enced much suffering and failure, but her full contribu-tion to the church and the world seems now to be only beginning. For religious in the United States and else-where who may know little or nothing of this extraor-dinary woman, I hope this article may provide a brief but warm introduction. The recent book I will be draw-ing from and citing is an excellent place to make fur-ther acquaintance with her goodness and truth. I refer to Mary Ward: Pilgrim and Mystic by Margaret Mary Littlehales IBVM) Mary Ward was an English gentlewoman, well-con-nected by birth, and related to many of those who were executed for their part in the ill-conceived Gun Powder Plot of 1605. She was born in Yorkshire in 1585, three years before the defeat of the Spanish Armada and four- Lawrence E Barmann is a professor of American studies and theological studies at Saint Louis Univ, ersity. His address is Humanities Building; 3800 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious teen years after Pope Pius V's bull Regnans in excelsis made techni-cal traitors out of all English Catholics who claimed allegiance to the pope by inviting them to dethrone Queen Elizabeth. So mar-tyrdom for the faith, or at least willingly accepted hardship for the ability to practice it, became the very atmosphere in which Mary Ward grew to adulthood. Such an atmosphere is often inducive to quick spiritual maturity, and in Mary Ward's case it certainly was. By the time she was sixteen, Mary Ward had developed a strong prayer life and the conviction that God intended her for the religious state in some form. Her parents thought otherwise, and Edmund Neville, heir to the earldom of Westmoreland, became her suitor. After Mary had gently rejected him, Neville became a Jesuit; and at twenty-one she persuaded her father to allow her to go to the continent to try her vocation to religious life. In 1606 Mary arrived at SaintoOmer in the Spanish Netherlands (now northern France), where English Catholics escaping persecution in their homeland had been migrating for decades. Through the advice of misguided confessors, she entered a Poor Clare convent, only to realize within a year that this was not where God intended her to be. In 1609 she returned briefly to England, where she seems to have gained some light about God's choice for her. Upon returning to Saint-Omer with a small group of English women about her own age, she set about doing for women's education what the Jesuits were doing for boys among the emigr~s. She called her community the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and her specific intention was "to train English girls from Catholic families to be wives and mothers or religious, but all to be apostles for the faith in England." She was convinced that women were quite as capable of edu-cation as men, though she thought they did not need precisely the same courses. For Greek and Hebrew she substituted modern lan-guages, and for physical training, dancing. Moreover, she set about having her own followers trained to teach such things. In the patri-archal world and church of the 17th century, this was considered wildly innovative and thus suspect; and so the church authorities, who alone could approve her work as a religious institute, were to make Mary pay dearly for such innovation. Once, in 1617, after hearing a Jesuit priest comment on the work of her schools that, "when all is done, they are but women," Mary remarked calmly but with conviction: "There is no such dif- November-Decen~ber 2000 Barmann ¯ Mary Ward ference between men and women that women may not do great things . And I hope in time to come it will be seen that women will do much . What think you of this word 'but women'? but as if we were in all things inferior to some other creature which I suppose to be man." Mary Ward's convictions about this and much else were drawn not primarily from books and debates, but from her intense relationship with God and from his grace working through her wonderfully balanced and prophetic personality. As the schools grew and young women increasingly wished to join Mary Ward's community, she needed to settle on some rule of life. By 1611 already about forty women had cast their lots with hers. Both the local bishop and her confessor tried to force her to adopt either the Augustinian, Benedictine, Franciscan, or Carmelite rules. To these urgings she could only respond that "they seemed not that which God would have." These "English Ladies," as they were now commonly called by their supporters (or "Jesuitesses," by their detractors), could not have adopted any of those earlier rules for women and continue to do the work to which they were called; all four rules as they were applied to women in those days required canonical enclosure. Finally Mary Ward had her answer, and it was to lead to incredible suffering for the remainder of her life. To the papal nuncio in Cologne, Monsignor Albergati, she explained: About this time, in the year 1611, being alone in some extraordinary repose of mind, I heard distinctly not by sound of voice, but intellectually understood, these words: "Take the same of the Society"; so understood as that we were to take the same both in matter and manner, that only excepted which God by diversity of sex hath prohibited. These few words gave so great a light in that particular institute, comfort and strength, and changed so the whole soul as that it was impos-sible for me to doubt, but that they came from Him whose words are works. Mary Ward's conviction that God intended her to adopt the Jesuit Rule to her institute of religious women and to do her spe-cial work in the world rather than in a cloister was what 17th-cen-tury western Europe obviously needed if it were to remain at all Catholic. But it was a conviction far in advance of the convictions of most of the male authorities in post-Reformation Rome. Furthermore, the Jesuits had managed to incur the jealous wrath of the secular clergy in England, and these latter pursued Mary with calumnious accusations simply because she intended to estab-lish a female religious congregation based on Jesuit principles. Review for Religious These calumnies found a ready hearing in Rome. The Jesuits them-selves were ambivalent about her institute, sometimes being extremely helpful and sometimes joining the enemy. In 1622 Mary Ward finally met the Jesuit general, Mutius Vitelleschi, who was deeply and permanently impressed by her. Henceforth the Jesuit general would instruct his men to be supportive of Mary's work and gracious to her, short of such involvement as might lead to a sort of second order--something St. Ignatius Loyola had strictly for-bidden. Meanwhile Mary's institute had established schools not only in Saint-Omer, but in Liege and Rome, and would soon have houses in Naples, Perugia, Munich, Vienna, Pressburg, and elsewhere. Mary herself, always of delicate physical constitution, went back and forth across the Alps, mostly on foot, frequently in winter and in the midst of the Thirty Years War, in order to strengthen and encourage her followers; while at the same time she worked tirelessly to gain the necessary support of bishops, the Roman curia, and the pope, for the approval of her institute. The number of high-placed clerics who opposed her for reasons that had nothing to do with reli-gion, or even good sense, always outnumbered those who sup-ported her. The bishop of Vienna, for instance, wrote to Rome in 1628 to complain that the English Ladies had opened a school there without his peymission (though they had the emperor's per-mission and he had even given them a house and funds) and that the girls in Mary Ward's school had actually performed publicly in a comic school play! With the Catholic religion collapsing in central Europe, a bishop's jealousy of his rights against the only Catholic ruler of any weight in the region would ultimately prevent the Catholic education of young women in the empire. Of popes with whom Mary had to deal, Urban VIII, who would condemn Galileo at Mary Ward's conviction that God intended her to adopt the Jesuit Rule to her institute of religious women was what 17th-century western Europe obviously needed if it were to remain Catholic. November-December 2000 Barmann ¯ Mar~ Ward about the same time that he condemned Mary Ward, was the most duplicitous. She first had an audience with Urban in 1624, in which she pleaded for approval of her institute and in which Urban smiled and smiled and totally misled her about his intentions. Eventually he ordered the suppression of all of her houses and the dissolution of her institute, and this merely on the basis of English clerical calumnies and calumnies spawned by the hurt pride of ambitious continental clerics. Mary herself was eventually imprisoned as a heretic in a Poor Clare convent in Munich, by order of the Roman Inquisition. There she nearly died, though she so impressed the resident Poor Clares that they knew she was anything but a heretic. Meanwhile, her followers were being systematically driven from their houses and were mostly on the verge of starvation. Having at length been released from prison, Mary set out at the end of 1631 for Rome in order to clear her good name for the sake of what she hoped might be the future of her institute. Kneeling at Urban's feet she burst out, "Holy Father, I am not nor ever have been a heretic." At which the pope interrupted, "We believe it, we believe it; we need no other proof." He also allowed the institute to continue (under private vows) in Rome and under his protection. In 1637 Mary Ward set out again for England, though it would be May of 1639 before she actually got there. She sought a letter from Pope Urban to give to Queen Henrietta Maria to gain the queen's support for her institute. The letter Mary received speaks of her as "one much esteemed in Rome both for her well-known qualities and piety, which will without doubt cause Your Majesty to see and hear her." This was the same Rome which, only half a dozen years earlier, had imprisoned her as a heretic and decreed the destruction of her life's work. The queen did receive Mary gra-ciously, but within a year the country would be in the throes of political ttirmoil that would end in civil war and the execution of the king. Without completely abandoning her hope of establishing a school in London, Mary went north to Yorkshire in 1642, and there she died at Osbaldwick, a short distance from the city of York, on 20 January (old style) 1645. After her death Mary Ward's institute did in fact flourish, and finally, in 1977, after a wait of 366 years, the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary was able to realize Mary Ward's original insight and founder's charism by adopting the Jesuit Constitutions, and with the blessing of the Jesuit general, Pedro Arrupe. Margaret Mary Review for Religious Littlehales's study of Mary's Ward's life reveals many things. It reveals the costliness, but also the great happiness, of completely abandoning oneself to God. It also demonstrates that, within the external church structure, official authority can be quite wrong, but probably less so in proportion to the genuine humility of its wielders. Mary Ward's life demonstrates incontrovertibly that God's intended purposes are often achieved through the near annihilation of the human instruments of that achievement. Christians should not be surprised by this, for such was the case with God's own Son. Contemporary religious, both men and women, can find great encouragement and inspiration in the life of this saintly English woman. Dorothy Day did, and she even titled her own autobiog-raphy with a remark Mary Ward once made as she pondered what lay ahead of her as a young woman bent on seeking only God's will--"the long loneliness." Note 1 Margaret Mary Littlehales, Mary Ward, Pilgrim and Mystic, 1~8Y- 164~ (Tunbridge Wells, England: Burns and Oates, 1998). Pp. 272. £18.95. Patrimony my patrimony is a deity unknown whose name I cannot pronounce communicated to me in stuttering speech, in fits of temper and in weeping, in so many questions unleavened by answers in silence and in absence by those struck dumb and those afraid to speak Sefin Kinsella November-December 2000 STAN PARMISANO St. Catherine's Letters: Human Love, Gracious Authority One level of St. Catherine of Siena, perhaps her deepest, is revealed in her Dialogue.' But this great work, whether in the original or in proper translation, is strange fare for many mod-ern readers. Its subject matter--mystical union with the Trinity in and through Christ--is high and heavy and, I should think, attractive only to the relatively few seriously intent upon such union. Its language often includes words and phrases borrowed from the scholastic theology of the day, though Catherine's orig-inal genius keeps breaking through, giving new form to old mat-ter. The book is also rife with personification and allegory (Christ the Bridge, the Tree of Life, Vineyard of the Soul, and so forth)-- fun for the medieval reader, but dry and tedious for today's read-ership. Also, in the Dialogue Catherine is quite formal and impersonal. The lively, dynamic personality recorded in history is certainly there, but it has to be searched out, for it is hidden in the shadow of the great Truth she labors to expound. She herself is merely un'anirna in the mighty presence of her God. Her letters are a different matter.2 They are personal--writ-ten not by an anonymous "soul," but by the flesh-and-blood Catherine. Io Caterina rings throughout, addressed not to people in general, but to here-and-now individuals. The letters evoke wide and popular interest. They deal with Catherine's own life Stan Parmisano OP wrote about theology and faith in our September- October issue. His address remains Saint Albert's Priory; 5890 Birch Court; Oakland, California 94618. Revie'a, for Religiou, and visible experiences and with details about life around her, social and political as well as spiritual. Their language is not borrowed from or freighted with outmoded rhetorical devices, but is pleas-ingly spontaneous and informal, as alive today as in Catherine's own time. On the whole the letters are original. They are Catherine, in every vibrant word and phrase--simple, nuanced, various, alive with passion for the truth, and the truth in particu-lar situations. They are "unliterary," to be sure, for they were talked, not written, by our unlettered saint, but they are clear and coherent, direct and firm, though also tactful. Catherine sometimes digresses, loses the train of her thought, but she never really rambles on or gossips. She has little time for light conversation ("Let us run, let us run, for the time is short!"), and her central point is almost always clear and precise. Though each of her letters is unique, many of them fall into a common pattern. They begin with Jesus, and with Catherine as the slave of the servants of God--never, for Catherine, a mere pious formula, but always freshly genuine. Then she often seems to lose herself in the contemplation and exposition of one of the mysteries of faith, which, however, turns out to be pertinent to the subject of the letter. Soon she comes to the question at issue, and, if in the initial paragraphs she was high and spiritual, peacefully contemplative, now she is very much the active apostle dealing practically and in detail with earthy mat-ters. She ends with statements of love and concern for her corre-spondent, placing all in the hands of God: "Bathe you in the blood of Christ crucified. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love." The letters reveal the breadth as well as depth of Catherine's concerns, and her marvelous ability to adapt, with no compromise of ideal, to various situations and personalities. To a little niece she writes in gentle, childlike simplicity about the wise and foolish virgins in the Gospel and the lamps they bear: "Do you know what this means, my daughter? By the lamp is meant our heart, because a heart ought to be like a lamp. You see that a lamp is wide above and narrow below, and so the heart is made to signify that we ought always to keep it wide above through holy thoughts and holy imaginations and continual prayer; always holding in mem-ory the blessing of the Blood by which we are bought . I said . simple, nuanced, various, alive with passion for the truth, and the truth in particular situations. November-December 2000 Parmisano ¯ St. Catherine's Letters that a lamp is narrow below, and so is our heart: to signify that the heart ought to be narrow toward these earthly things--that is, it must not desire or love them extravagantly, nor hunger for more than God wills to give us" (letter no. 23). To Alessa, as to other of her women disciples, she sends prac-tical advice about the religious life, which is to be lived "both with and without moderation . For love toward God should be with-out measure, and that for creatures should be measured by that for God, and not by measure of one's own consolations, whether spiritual or temporal." And how manage this? "Make two homes for yourself, my daughter: one actual home in your cell, that you go not running about into many places, unless for necessity, or for obe-dience to the prioress, or for charity's sake; and another spiritual home, which you are to carry with you always." This last, she con-tinues, is "the cell of true self-knowledge," embracing both the knowledge of God and the knowledge of self, "two cells in one. ¯ and when abiding in the one you must abide in the other, for oth-erwise the soul would fall into either confusion or presumption. For, if you rested in the knowledge of yourself, confusion of mind would fall upon you; and, if you dwelt in the knowledge of God alone, you would fall into presumption" (no. 49). Still within the uncompromising truth and love of Jesus, but with some relevant adaptation, she writes in a much different vein to Sir John Hawkwood, the English soldier of fortune who was the scourge of the Italian city-states. She begs him to leave "the service and pay of the devil., and take the pay and the cross of Christ crucified." He is a soldier; let him remain such, but let him now become Christ's knight: "I beg you, then, gently in Christ Jesus, that, since God and also our Holy Father have ordered a crusade against the infidels and [since] you take such pleasure in war and fighting, you should not make war against Christians any-more-- for that is wrong to God; but go against the infidels. For it is a great cruelty that we who are Christians, and members bound in the body of Holy Church, should persecute one another." And she concludes abruptly but quite aptly with a subtle undertone of warning against his soldiering altogether: "I beg you, dearest brother, to keep in memory the shortness of your time." Her final words are as usual: "Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love" (140). To that formidable woman of the world Queen Joanna of Naples, who first sided with Clement, then Urban, then with Review for Religious Clement again in their rival claims on the papacy, Catherine writes in a similar manner, but with deeper sorrow and fiercer passion: "Dearest Mother--mother, I say, insofar as I see you to be a faith-ful daughter of Holy Church--it seems to me that you have no mercy on yourself. Ah me! because I love you I grieve over the evil state of your soul and body. I would willingly lay down my life to prevent this cruelty. Many times I have written to you in compassion, showing you that what is shown you for the truth is a lie; and the rod of divine justice., is ready for you if you do not flee so great a wrong. It is a human thing to sin, but perseverance in sin is a thing of the devil . Be merciful, ah, be merciful to yourself]. I say no more to you. Remain in the holy sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love" (348). She writes differently to Gregory xI than at a later date she would write to Urban vI. Gregory was weak and vacillating, and so in her letters to hi~n she exhorts him to be "manly" and firm in his high office of supreme pontiff: "Be manly in my sight, and not timorous . I, Catherine. write you in his precious Blood, desiring to see you a manly man (uomo virile) without any servile fear." And, when Gregory hesitates in his resolve to return to Rome for fear of being poisoned there, Catherine reminds him that there are other, more terrible kinds of poison; and at any rate there's as much poison "on the tables of Avignon . as on those of Rome!" (229, 239). Urban, on the other hand, from the start of his pontificate was already betraying that spirit of anger and vindictiveness that would end in personal revenge, violence, and mt~rder. One had written to Catherine after the election of Urban: "It seems that our new Christ is a terrible man." In her first letter to him, Catherine appears to be aware of this and shapes her words accordingly: "Next I beg you, and constrain you by the love of Christ crucified, as to those sheep who have left the fold--I believe for my sins-- that, by love of that Blood of which you are made minister, you delay not to receive them in mercy, and with your benignity and holiness force their hardness; give them the good of bringing them back to the fold, and, if they do not ask it in true and perfect humility, let Your Holiness supply for their imperfection. Receive from a sick man what he can give you" (291). Religious life is to be lived "both with and without moderation." November-December 2000 Parmisano * "St. Catherine's Letters She writes to William Flete and other hermits at Laceto a gem of a letter begging them to leave for a time the peace and quiet of their forest retreat and come to Rome on pilgrimage in support of Urban. She desires them so to lose themselves as to seek "nor peace nor quiet elsewhere than in Christ crucified." If out of piety they are loath to leave their solitary life, they must know that there are woods and forests aplenty in and around Rome! (326). To Raymond of Capua, her Dominican soul brother and dearest friend, she writes in every which way: tenderly, pas-sionately, in joy, in anger; now as a scolding mother, now as his obedient daughter, now reproving him for cowardice and want of faith, now exposing her own weakness and want of love. And, often uncomfortably for Raymond, always she wants him together with herself to die a martyr: "I tell you, sweetest Father, that, whether we will or no, the time we are living in enjoins us to die, so do not live any longer." (333). Catherine's Human Love This last suggests one of two facets of Catherine's personality that may prove especially problematic for the modern reader of her letters, namely, the quality of her human love. The spontane-ity, passion, naturalness, and totality of her love for the Person of Christ is beyond question: she is quite literally consumed, body and soul, with love for Him, who is mad (pazzo), drunk (ebro) with love for her. But, when it comes to lesser*folk, her native inclina-tions seem to be oversupernaturalized, and her love may appear forced and lacking in the milk of human tenderness and warmth and understanding. This would explain the extreme discomfort she experiences when ordered by the Lord to leave her solitary life and give to others the same love that she gave to

Issue 47.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1988. ; Communal Spirituai ~Cons01ation The Blessing of ~OId Age . . .= =,.~ ;. ::. -. : ~ - = :"~ i~',~,~ . Love and !~Apostolate Volume 47 Number 6 Nov./Dec. 1988 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The edito-rial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REWEW FOR RELiGiOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1988 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add $5.00 per year; for airmail, add $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Acting Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors Nov./Dec. 1988 Volume 47 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rv.wv.w Fon RvaotGmus; Room 428; 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. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from Rv.wv.w FOR REt.mtous; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints ar~ available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Consciousness Examen: Becoming God's Heart for the World George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. Father Aschenbrenn~r, well known to almost all of our readers, returns to our pages,. His article was first published in the April-June 1988 special edition of Prayer and Service (Rome). He is the director of the Spiritual-formation program at North Ameri-can College; 00120 Vatican City State; Europe. To live contemplativeiy. Ind~ed', ~o become Whom we contempl.at~: this is the invi~gorating experience, the hallmark enterprise and adventure that human existence is all about that for which every human heart is long-ing. The magnetic appeal of~tl~e wholly beloved invites our hearts to a transformation which is never e~isy. But it is so intimately renewing as to be almost irresistible. It is the very heart 9f love. Lovers in their mu~- tual ~0ntemplation are not always explicitly aware of this process of self-transformation into which the~y ~are being swept up. But c,ertain claalleng'- ing momen, ts can starkly reveal the risky loss of self that is involved. And yet the very attractiveness of the beloved provides conviction and moti-vation t6 embrace this risk. in that magnetic moment, love seems an op-portunity not to be m'isse'd. B/at love's opportunity "and risk are also costly--and lovers finally know this. Indeed, the cost involved in the con-templation of lovers strikes to the profound level of self, id.entity. But cost what it may, the belove.d~s attractiveness lures the lover on to surpris-ingly new depths. The beloved in our reflection here is Christ Jesus, our God and Lord, our Brother and, finally, all our sisters and brothers, especially the most suffering ones across all time and space (see Mt 25:31-46). And contem-plative transformation into .this beloved is the fundamental process .in-volved in, indeed it is, devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ. It 801 [102 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 is also the process with which examination of conscience is concerned. And there we have at once the premise and the product of this reflec-tion. Both devotion to the Sacred Heart and examination of conscience have a long history in the Ignatian tradition. But they have rarely, if ever, been viewed in relationship to each other. In this article I will try to show how regular examination of conscience facilitates a transforming expe-rience of one's own heart into the beloved of one's heart, the Sacred Heart of God in Jesus Christ. After a brief summary of the contempo-rary renewed understanding of the examen, I will make use especially of some of the graces prayed for in the First Week Of the Spiritual Exer-cises, in order to describe the continuing conversion involved in a regu-lar practice of examen. Finally, in support of the claim that the examen can convert our hearts into devotion to the Sacred Heart of God, I will describe a little of the apostolic power~ the ardent love and thirst for jus-tice, of such a growing and ongoing conversion. Ongoing: for we are never done with love. In recent years there have been attempts, both within the Jesuit heri-tage and within the whole Church, to renew the understanding and prac-tice of examination of conscience and of devotion to the Sacred Heart. Examination of conscienc~ is now more of(en called consciousness ex-amen or awareness examen. ~ In its renewed form the examen continues to bless and sensitize the hearts of many busy believers to the loving pres-ence of God in all of daily life. And while much work has been done in developing a contemporary theological understanding of devotion to the Sacred Heart,2 perhaps the a~tual practice of the devotion is not so widespread as that of consciousness examen, or at least is not widespread among those who frequently make use of consciousness examen. This article, finally, though its central point is to relate the two practices, is concerned more with the personal effects of regular examen than it is with the details of traditional or recent developments in devotion to the Sacred Heart. Renewed Understanding of Examen In the renewed understanding of the examen, two insights are key. First, a much more positive perspective has corrected a past view that often deteriorated into an overly negative, moralistic misunderstanding. Rather than highlighting the bad actions of a day, the examen gives pri-mary concern to what is primary: God's revelation, a steadfast love in Christ Jesus always inviting and invigorating our consciousness. Formal examen sensitizes our hearts to the presence of this love in the ordinary Becoming God's Heart / 803 details of every day. Whenever this love is recognized and responded to, our hearts simply must c9~me aliw~ with joy and gratitude. So gratitude is the major element in the actual time of examen-prayer, as it should also be in our daily lives of faith. And this gratefulness for the wonder of God's love stirs hearts to action. And so gratitude becomes the chief motive from which all ministry pours. As the examen begins to make our hearts more aware of God's .per-during Io.ve, we also begin to recognize flow often and how easily we can b~ oblivious to that love, or how subtly, yet quite stubbornly, we can refuse response to love. This realization, when faced honestly and not rationalized away, can, whether rudely or quietly, awaken our hearts with healthy guilt, with sorrow and repentance. As this article will de-velop later, this, experience of guilt and sorrow is anything but pleasant; yet, as an experience of God's love, it does purify us, it does transform us. And the effect of that can only be a bolder, freer, more wide-ranging apostolic service. Mature faith and discipleship cannot happen without this painful transformation in the humiliating experience of guilt and sorrow. As the repentant sinner encounters God's forgiveness in Je-sus, sorrow is transformed into hopeful, vigorous gratitude--and a burn-ing zeal to serve God's loving justice in our world. In this way, thanks-giving-- the central driving force in the heart of any mature disciple of Jesus Christ--dominates the dailyexamen and fuels its impulse toward loving action. A second insight that renews our understanding.of the examen is the importance of the informal examen, as distinguished from, though obvi-ously not unrelated to, the formal examen.3 The formal examen is a spe, cific time and style of prayer:. In a previous article I described the five traditional elements of such prayer.4 Never meant as an end in itself, this formal practice of examen should gradually .spill over and infiltrate it-self, as a special faith,sensitivity, into a person's daily ,life. And so we come upon the informal examen:a way of living. The informal examen is more a matter of who we.are and who we are becoming, whereas the formal examen is a specifid prayer we regularly practice. Thus a .regular practice of examen can lead to that self-transformation which make pos-sible a genuine faith-sensitivity of heart, a dynamic connaturality with the Beloved, which we are calling here informal examen. This dynamic development of formal examen into informal, into a pervasive faith-sensitivity of heart, is crucial--crucial both to a proper understanding of examen itself and to its role in the human heart's deeply desired experi-ence of love: our becoming whom we contemplate. Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Daily Conversion in Faith Jesus' ministry erupts publicly among the peopl(-inoa great sense of urgency: a wholly new revelation of God's love and the need for reform of mind and heart, if One is to recognize and respond~to that love. It is so clear at the beginning of Mark and in the synagogue-scene of chapter four in Luke. This radical personal conversion of faith is often described in the Scriptures as a matter of repentance. As a conx~ersion that will cost a whole lifetime, 'it continually involves the risking and sacrificing of a temptingly attractive but false, illusory self while radically true and ra-diantly new creation is born in a person's daily response to the quiet ur-genc~ of God's love. But no experience of merely passing excitement will suffice for this. Nor ~can such repentance and radical change of outlook ever be re-duced simply~ tb our own planning and control. A strategy of clear-sighted tactics and of fierce determination will always prove futile all by itself. In fact, if not properly motivated and accompanied by grace, it can actually corrupt the very adventure of faith into something"unwhole-some and unholy. With0ut,a genuin(rexperience of the wonder of God's love, the Gospel call, the call by grace and favor to radical change, can-not be heard, and healthy repentance cannot happen.5 It is the attractive beauty and power of God's love which reveals the inadequacy and sin-fulness of our condition and unlooseris in our hearts a desire to be much more than what we now may be. It is in this way that the w~onder of God's love reveals our sinfulness. And this profound truth, so capable of being misunderstoOd, is always the bedrock of mature spiritual life. God alone sees our sinfulness most clearly for what it truly is: a choice against love. And it is this God who calls us to intimacy in the beautiful revelation of Jesus come among us as forgiveness. Every detail of Je-sus' life, most especially his dramatic experience on Calvary, stretches and stirs 6ur hearts in hope for a new creation, a new life, a whole new self. But repentance, with its'purifying pain and.suffering, is the only way to this urgently longed-for newness. ¯ ~An ,honest repentant.acknowledgment of sinfulness.in the face of such love is neither'obxiious nor easy, because it cuts Our consciousness in humiliation. 'The guilt and shame and the embarrassment that come in the wake of such~an acknowledgment sting and. singe our conscious-ness. In the presence of such love, they make our spirits blush. The pain and hurt will, most often ,~" and quite spontaneouslyl make us wary and seel~ to activate d~fense mechanisms such'~ as the rationalizations of de-nial and the distractions,~not of joy, but of pleasure. These are moments Becoming God's Heart / 805 for careful discernment in the life of any believer, For the humiliating pain of acknowledged sin, as intended here, is not the result of some overly scrupulous conscience. Nor is it the unhealthy guilt of self-hatred. Rather it is the purifying consolation--not desolation, but con-solation~ however scouring--the consoling experience of God calling us to greater love and life and faith. Despite the pain, therefore, this repen-tant blush of heart is a grace not to be rejected. It is essential to any ma-ture faith, to any measured zeal for God's world, to any discipleship that hopes.to brave the road's full distance. The guilt that introduces our embarrassed, repentant response to God'.s great, tender love requires a brief description here. Much past ex-p. eoence of unhealthy guilt has understandably provoked the over-reaction against, even to the l~oint of a dangerous disregar.d, of, ~all guilt as if all guilt were unhealthy. Though unhealthy guilt can surely plague and disi~eart~n.us, yet there is a guilt born of God. A'nd it ~;tings. But for the lover, it also signals the Beloved's presence, a very active pres-ence, a redemptive consciousness, inoviting great~er intimacy in faith with God. Urihealthy guilt is always anxious, wo~:rie~ aboiat self, in excessive fear of punishment, preoccupied with failure, at tim6s verging on despair in the face of some unrealistic pe~rfectionism. But healthy, consoling guilt is always the result of an interpersonal Iov,e .relationship. And it focuses the heart beyond the self, on the Beloved, in painful so~:row for the wound one's lack of love has caused. Healthy .guilt does not despair, nor does it disrupt the deepest peace of the soul. The reason for this is that healthy guilt is always intimately and very positively related to encoun-ter, a repentant sinner's encounter with God's forgiveness revealed and available now in a crucified Son's intransigent love. In the Dying, a New Life But in the tense struggle'of this inner guilt, shame, and sorrow, we usually become aware of the risk and high stakes involved. A self, or some aspect of a self with which we have been enamored, perhaps for a long time, must be let go of, Something must die if the new is to be born. It is a mortifying experience, but, as it is not a mortification sim-ply of our own making, neither can the outcome of it be clearly grasped in advance, It is a moment of perceived high risk. And the helplessness of such a moment, when we are on the verge of letting go of what used to be and are. not yet in possession of what will be, can profoundly daunt and agitate our spirit. Furthermore, it is in no way simply our own power and ingenuity that will create a different future. In the helpless and sor-rowful awareness of our sinfulness, it is only an 'act of trusting abandon- Review for Religious, November-December 1988 ment of self, sometimes done in the dark aloneness of faith, that will al-low the Beloved to gift us with God's holiness, our only true human fu-ture. A process of conversion that has begun in love leads now to even greater love as a beloved God, in that faithful promise which is the risen Jesus, defies all darkness and rejects absurdity and pain as the final word, whether about this world or the next. The heart of God revealed in"Jesus excites our hearts with the invi-tation to a new and brighter future. But only a heart scoured clean in the humiliation of repentance can respond to that invitatiofi. The issue is as profound as self-transformation and as hopeful as a wholly new c?eation. But without a mortified, response to God's loving invitation and without a risky letting go of self, such a future remains simply tantalizing, cheap grace, illusion. The forgiving love of God ~brings th~ process of repentance to a con-clusion o~ lively gratitude, profound joy, and enthusiastic zeal for min-istry. The sorrow of a forgiven sinner is not depressing, however pain-fully purifying. Neither is this sorrow obliterated by the joyous gratitude and zeal for servic~ that realized forgiveness brings. Rather, the humility of a saved sinner, while not destructively focused on the past, neve'r sim-ply forgets the sorrowful memory of forgiven sin. One cannot help but wonder whether Peter in the maturi~ty of his joy, during his after-breakfast walk with the risen Jesus, did not once again find his eyes well up with tears as three awkward questions burned his soul with his own lonely truth, but burned it precisely for the sake of fidelity, the journey in companionship, and, yes, for the great holiness of Peter that lay ahead (Jn 21:15-19). The new self created in God's fo¢giveness is always strongly char-acterized by a profound, joyful thanksgiving for a deed neither deserved nor capable of accomplishment on one's own. This deed of forgiveness and the hope of a new and better future resonate strongly in the repen-tarot sinner's heart, now riveted on the challenging beauty of God's for-giving love, found fleshed forever in Jesus on the cross. And so the whole dynamic of the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises propels a per-son to confrontation, to enlightenment and encouragement before this pas-sionate experience of Jesus on Calvary. Having taken upon himself the sins of all, this Son, anguished in an olive grove over the agonizing pros-pect of a humiliating death, is able to renew that trusting abandonment of self which allows himoto find once again, as always, not previous to, but in the very abandonment of dying, his dear Father. And his beloyed Father blesses this anguished abandonment with a future of absolute full- Becoming God's Heart ness in resurrection. In the face of such enlivening abandonment on Je-sus' part, we can find the graceful encouragement needed for that sur-render of self which repentance always demands. It is at this moment that the graces of fidelity and perseverance take root in the forgiven sinner's experience. And so Jesus' death into the fu-ture of resurrection stands faithfully, for all ages, as God's forgiveness. It gives graceful encouragement to all repentant sinners in this risky and humiliating process of self-transformation. The persevering faithfulness of this new creation, this new heart, will always depend on how pro-foundly, how pervasively transformed the repentant sinner is in the en-counter with God's Word of forgiveness. As we gaze on God's forgiveness in Jesus crucified, besides a lively gratitude and profound joy, our heart knows the expansiveness of a great desire for God in Jesus--an apostolic desire to give ourselves as Jesus did in the ministry of God's forgiving justice. This desire at the end of the First Week continues to expand as the attractiveness of God's love in Jesus is revealed through the remaining weeks of the Exercises. God's Spirit and kingdom revealed so compellingly in Jesus become our whole-hearted desire. To live in daily imitation of Jesus, to serve as an apostle in whatever way God desires, becomes the very energy of our hearts. And yet, as the experience continues, this desire can stretch our hearts still further: we may be so transformed, we may, in such transformation, be so intimately identified with Jesus, that we become and, in the thor-oughly real way the mysticism of baptism and Eucharist accomplish in us, we may be Jesus in and for our world. And so ttie joyous thanksgiv-ing of a forgiven sinner, so much more than .a mere devotional satisfac-tion, sets our hearts afire with such desire for new identity in Christ Je-sus that we become mystical activists, heralds everywhere of the good news of God's transforming forgiveness. This reflection offers the view that consciousness examen may play a role of special importance in facilitating such a process of radical con-version. The profundity and pervasiveness of the transformation spoken of will depend in large measure on a regular practice of examen. And rather than putting a clear conclusion to the process of radical conver-sion, the Exercises provide enlightening direction for the further and con-tinual deepening of desire for this daily identification with Jesus. For this reason, as the formal Exercises conclude and move to become daily life, we are always left with an even greater need than before for regular ex-amen, that we may continue the daily discernment of God's love con-verting us steadily into Christ Jesus our Lord. Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Goal of Examen: Devotion to the Sacred Heart of God ,in Jesus Long after the retreat experience of the Exercises is finished, regu-lar examen keeps our heart sensitive and responsive to the attractiveness of the Sacred Heart of God: ifi Jesus.As we have already seen, thanks-giving and sorrow are the two chief affections in faith of the examen-- and the sorrow itself, as we~have also seen, finds its fulfillment in thanks-giving.~ And so it is in. and through its term of thanksgiving that regular cxamen mediates our conversion and growth into Christ Jesus. Through the basic thrust of the ex.amcn, each believer becomes a concrete embodi, merit here and now of the Sacred Heart of God in Jesus. Consciousness examen, therefore, by facilitating the transformation whereby.a serious believer and disciple becomes devoted to the Sacred Heart,is profoundly related tothat same,,devotion.For in this sens~e of the word, devotion re-fers to the fundamental shape and orientation of a believing heart to the Heart of God in Christ Jesus. And this sense of devotion cuts far be-neath-- it does not necessarily deny but rather must root--any specific, traditional devotional details and practices. .~o ¯ The transformation of self whereby our hearts radically become de-votion to the Sacred Heart accomplishes some perceptible results in our lives. Growing integrity of heart, wholeheartedness, Ignatian magnanim-ity gradually centers, unites, and identifies our whole person and pres-ence in the world. A white inner stillness, fanned to burning flame in God's own creative love, radiates an. energy bf, recollection~a collect= edness--that can meld our often fragmentary faith into the Strong, live organism of a life decisively for God. Such wholeheartedness first gives enlightenment, then courage, to-wards a fundamental desire and choice in the direction of the "heav-enly" things of consolation and away from the "earthly" things of deso-lation. These desolate "earthly" things live in our flesh as the seven capi-tal, selfish impulses toward sin that the Christian tradition ~has known so well for centuries; whereas the "heavenly" things of God's consoling love are the opposite impulses which also live in our consciousness where the Spirit of Jesus invites and breathes their confirmation, their development in us, as virtues, as the very shape of our .heart. In the in-terweaving complexity and tangle of our daily consciousness, we dis-cover that the tempting experience of these capital impulses to sin is pre-cisely the battlefield upon which the fidelity of our commitment and de-votion to the virtuous heart of God. in Christ is tested and strengthened. And so it is usually by standing strong against the tempting intensity of lust that the virtue of chastity grows. It is by decisively acknowledging Becoming God's Heart .and carefully standing against the violence of desolate rage that the ten-sile strength of nonviolent gentleness is forged. And so of all the per, sonal and community motions of spirit that impel us towards or away from the justice of the Reign of God. The examen is.daily involvement in this process of transforming the impulsive desolations of our conscious-ness into the deep, consoling devotion and virtue of God's Sacred Heart. Once again, as described earlier in this article, we notice that it is pre-cisely in the dying that the new is born.And what is newly born through these mortifying struggles on the inner battlefield of our heart--the heart of each of us and the communal, societal heart of each group, each so-cial structure--always affects apostolic presence in the world, always af-fects decisively actions for or against God's justice as revealed in the lov-ing Heart of Jesus. Fifially, this conversion into the Sacred Heart of God in Jesus, this process of our becoming devotion to the Sacred Heart, does not displace offr weakness ~vith an arrogant sense of ~Sur own stren~gth. No~, just the o'ppo~site! Maturity in faith is always growth t0 grateful realization both of our weakness and of our dependence on God's love for everything. A steadfast belief in God's love does not r.eplace human weakness. Rather, it helps us patiently to wait upon the Lord and recognize arid cele-brate God's love bringing strength into our weakness. For God's power is at its best in our weakness (se.e 2 Co 12:7-10). It is a power that is needed, for becoming whom we contemplate takes courage, even as it brings energy for it. It is high adventure, with a promised wage of per-secution, to enter and be taken up into the affectivity of Jesus, God's coun-tercultural heart for the world. Consciousness examen, then, is not a way to greater, self-reliant strength. But as its daily practice transforms us into the Sacred Heart, we may become whom we contemplate and so stand in this world as liv-ing witnesses, agents of love, inviting others into God's Heart in Christ Jesus: "Come to me, all you who are weary and over-burdened, and I will give you rest! Put on my yoke and learn from me. For I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light"(Mt 11:28-30). And one more time we listen to the Beloved, becoming whom we contemplate: "This text is being fulfilled, today, even as you listen . . . 'The spirit of the Lord has been given 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 4:16-21). I~10 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Through a companionship with Jesus made intimate and tender, strong and apostolically peremptory, through days and years of fidelity to the examen of consciousness, and through the dynamic energy con-tinually released in the experience of forgiven sinfulness, we may come to the apostolic gift which the fidelity of the friends of God can know. In becoming whom we contemplate, we may devoutly, reverently, boldly, and with his thirst for justice become, each of us and together, in the Holy Spirit, God's own heart for the world. NOTES t George Aschenbrenner, S.J., "Consciousness Examen," R~.v~Ew ~oR REt.IG~ot~s 3 I (1972): 14-21. See also the lengthy, very helpful article of David Keith Townsend, S.J., "The Examen Re-Examined," CIS 18, 2 (1987): 11-64. 2 Annice Callahan, R.S.C.J., Karl Rahner's Spirituality of the Pierced Heart: A Re-interpretation of Devotion to the ~a~'red Heart (New York: University Press of Amer-ica, 1985). This book contains references to the essential texts of Rahner on this sub-ject. 3 George Aschenbrenner, S.J., "A Check on Our Availability: The Examen," Rw~w ~oR RE~.~o~ot~s 39 (1980): 321-324. '~ Art. cit., R~vl~.w ~oR R~.~G~ot~s 31 (1972): 14-21. 5 See my article "Forgiveness," Sisters Today 45 (1973): 185-192. Clustering Thomas More Page, C.F.X. Brother Thomas More has written for us before, most recently in our issue of March/ April 1986: "Centering Prayer: A Flight to Reality." He lives at Mission Santa Bar-bara; 2201 Laguna Street; Santa Barbara, California 93105. Three years ago our provincial asked if the members of the province would be willing to commit themselves to form prayer cluster gr.oups dur-ing th~ course of the coming.year. The clusters would be small, six to eight people, voluntary, and would pledge themselves to meet at least twice a year over a long weekend. The timing of the formation of these clusters was just right, for by this time in our history a spirit of trust had ,been developed among the brothers, largely as the result of several provincial gatherings which were organized along different lines from provincial chapters. Provincial chap-ters consisted of a number of elected delegates who deliberated in a for-mal and businesslike manner over a prepared agenda, generally using par-liamentary procedures or "processes" for handling this agenda. The "gatherings," on the other hand, were open to all members and were constructed around themes which were meant to evoke a personal and communal faith-response within the ambience of prayer, personal and communal, with emphasis on our commonality as brothers. Within this framework we related our struggles and successes, recalled our sinful and graceful history, and spent blocks of time in prayerful reflection. Along with appropriate communal prayers composed around the theme of the gatherings, there were carefully prepared liturgies. Some unexpected results came from these new ways of meeting. There was a power released in many that had a healing effect. The prov-ince had experienced a deep division that had a traumatic effect upon the 811 812 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 members, leaving many wounds and a feeling of alienation, along with an unsettling disorientation. Then, also, there was a disturbing loss of identity. But here at these gatherings we were learning to speak a new language--that of faith speaking from lived experience. We spoke from the deepest levels of our lives. We spoke also of who we were. And we listened. In speaking and listening and praying we built up a new rela-tionship with one another andbegan the process of healing and more im-portantly, of refounding and celebrating our identity as brothers. With this healing and rediscovery, the level of trust rose proportionately. Also, an energizing power once more flowed through the province. Having thus rediscovered our identity within the healing and fraternal gatherings, we were ready for the proposal to take the next step of form.ing prayer clusters. The method used to form.the first experimental clusters, three in all, was simple, yet somewhat complicated. We were asked to jot down the names of those brothers with whom we would feel comfortable in such an intimate setting, along with the names of those with whom we would not feel comfortable. The provincial turned the names over to a brother-sociologist, who, after a long Struggle with the assignment, canoe up with three group'ings, ~,hich, ~after some further adjustments, were refined'. The members of the three groups were then asked to begin the process: Some brothers bypassed this process and began on their own. The group I was in has met three°times over the last year and a half. One person had volunteered to prepare th6 agenda for the first session; another, to find a suitable place where the f~icilities were such that they guaranteed the kind of atmosphere needed for this type of meeting. We had agreed that finances should not be an obstacle towards attendance and that, if anyone needed assistance, the group would come to his aid. To dat~, we have met in such diverse places as Loretto, Kentucky; St. Louis, Missouri; and Santa Barbara Mission, California. Our three ma-jor themes were: (.1) Make a review of your life. Isolate one'incident where you had to make a radical decision. How did you resolve it? (2) What has been your experience of God? How has your prayer life devel-oped over the years? (3) What significant things have happened to yot] since our last meeting? Relate an incident of injustice you have experi-enced. How did you handle it? Rather than further describing the mechanics of the prayer-cluster ex-perience, I prefer now to become more personal and isolate three major movements I saw take place. The most singular and overarching move-ment that tied the sessions together was what I would call spiritual inti- Clustering macy, which John Dunne describes as "the heart's desire." 'I had not expected that this would happen, and so it came as a surprise a grace. I was led into the most secret chambers of my brothers' minds and hearts--places that had hitherto been in darkness and inaccessible to oth-ers. To be drawn into a brother's faith experience; to walk with him as he tells me, in language uncluttered by grammatical rubrics, about his personal history--to be drawn into such an intimate circle was to become a witness to how his journey shaped, and molded him. It was to become a companion, a friend, a brother, who has been made aware and has made him aware of the sacredness of his history. He would no longer be alone to those to whom he had opened a clearing where the heart spoke without caution or~embarrassment. Released from the fenced area of private prayer and buried thoughts, each brother opened up the land, scape of his soul, where what was once unspoken, silent, became sto-ries that were, in the words of John Shea, "witnesses to grace, ~tutter-ing accounts, at times,,of,the God whose ways are unknown to us." And after each account, there was a zone of silence more reverent and expec-tant than the hushed, silence that follows upon the last plucked strings of Segovia's guitar. And thus it was that each brother, within the intimate circle of fra-ternal shari.ng, was able to speak without fear,about those things in his life he believed in, knowing that he could do this becau_se he had the sup~ port and trust of his listeners. This spiritual intimacy led to the second movement: a new sense of ideiatity. Each brother spoke in,what Robert Bella calls the "language of the heart," where one is caught up in the restless, flux of thought un-tethered by grammatical ,rubrics. When one heart speaks and another lis-tens, each is .drawn closer together in the bonds of fellowship. The ex-perience of spiritual intimacy made each ,brother feel he was participating in a fellowship in which his identity as a person and a brother was re-captured, maybe even rediscovered. When we were drawn into the feeling level of the brothers as they told their story, there was a shift that brought all the hearers into one com-mon community with common roots. What was experienced was the joy of belonging, with the discovery that "joy is deeper than agony" (Nietzsche). This kind of interchange is what J. A. Appleyard, S.J., would call "agonistic" in the "best sense of the word: it struggles to articulate primary experience, and in doing so it creates an intersUbjec-tive reality, sets relationships of cordialit~y and professionalism on a new basis of experienced faith." Through this deep experience of sharing 1~14 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 their faith, the. brothers broke through the polite slogans by which they once related and placed their newly found relationship on a personal level where their faith journeys converged towards the two poles necessary for a humanly growth-producing state: a deep relationship with God and a deep feeling of brotherhood. This senSe of personal and communal identity, this joy of belong-ing, is not something entirely emotional. It is something more than that. Its merit is that it drew the group into the beguiling and dreaming air of what brotherhood can become, where brother relates to brother. As Bishop Tutu once wrote, "You blossom among those who keep affirm-ing." The third movement was the awareness on the part of the brothers that this experience of spiritual intimacy and the rediscovery of their iden-tity' as brothers was not done within a vacuum, but was fashioned from the agenda of the world from which they temporarily withdrew. If one listened closely to their stories, one became acutely conscious that the brothers came to the cluster to gain strength and support to become even more prayerful men of faith who want to'develop a spirituality for jus-tice and equality which is nonviolent, hopeful, courageous, and collabo-rative. They came from their deep involvement in such ministries as: chemical dependency; professional involvement in heavy ethical and medi-cal questions; inner-city and upper-level-income schools; directors of re-newal programs for clergy and religious; organizers of immigrants from Central America. Against this varied background, they spoke of their call and their efforts toward a radical commitment to be voices for the voice-less, prophets in today's Church and world. They spoke of how they might effectively be involved in the women's movement and how they could be brother to them in their struggles; of the issues and the injus-tices which cry out for their voice; of how they might clarify and articu-late a response to the needs of the Church and of society; of how they can speak out and act individually and collectively regarding specific in-justices they see within the Church; of.how they might be able to speak out about the clericalism within the Church and religious orders; of how they can instill in students values opposed to a consumer society and a vision of the universality of the human family. Clustering, then, has been for the brothers a powerful force for sustaining them.in their involvement in the issues paramount in our society and Church. Without this aware-ness, they realize, the clusters could become a cozy and self-~fulfilling affair, hardly any different from social gatherings or an evening of ca-maraderie. ., ~, Clustering What has been the effect of these clusters on the membership? The question is best answered by the provincial who initiated the effort. In a very recent letter, he wrote as follows: "It is clearly evident that the Lord has been blessing us in a particular way over these last years. Our numbers may be decreasing and most of us may be aging; still we are at a depth of commitment and a level of true fraternal sharing that I per-sonally had never experienced before in my years as a Xaverian. I have lived over forty years of very happy times--of real mutual fraternal as-sistance and good-natured camaraderie. However, it is, I believe, only in these later years that we have begun to share what is deepest in our lives, in our thoughts and feelings. It is only recently that we have be-gun to share what happens to us in our prayers, to open ourselves to each other at the depths of our intimate private prayer. The mutual understand-ing, encouragement, and joy that this. sharing has produced in us is evi-dent every time we gather together: it is vibrant, palpable, and promotes further joy. It is true spiritual happiness, a real spiritual consolation." The Sanctuary Lamp Amid the silence of the night the waxen sentinels do not their vigil keep but one lone beacon stirs the midnight air. The flame, so silent her voice yet so dauntless the strength gathered in the surgings of light defying darkness. How hidden the strain of solitude's demands to give with gentle grace life's unseen gift of gold while others bask in daylight's sweet caress. Barbara Ann Opfer 2027 Campbell, B-8 Sandusky, Ohio 44870 TheMirror in the Field Joseph A. Tetlow, S.J. . , Father Tetlow has worked in the religious formation of junior religious and of theol-ogy students. He is currently spiritual director to the cle~rgy of th, e Diocese of Aus-tin, facilitator of the spirituality program in the Central Texas Pastoral Centel, and tertian director of~the New Orleans Province of the Soc'iety 6f Jesus. He liveg at Xavier Hall; 907 Lydia Street; Austin, Texas 78702. Fvery literate American can rattle off the list of major flaws in the Ameri-can psyche: workaholism, negative self-image, inability to make com-mitments, perfectionism, and so on. We absorb the list from psycho-babble, but we do not accept that these flaw~':are mere personality quirks, "just the way we are." On the contrary, we have the vague but persis-tent sense that not being able not to work, or living continually down on self, or failing in seriously made commitments, and so on, represents some kind of moral or religious wrong. W6' do not, however, know the name of the wrong. I make an attempt here to name that wrong and to diagnose the spiri-tual sickness lurking under workaholism and the rest. Why do business-men who really trust God nonetheless work themselves into coronary care? Why do mature Christians feel that'their prayer is trivial because they do not focus on divine things the way a computer focuses on its data? How can a woman go through a long preparation, soberly take mar-riage vows, and walk away from her Spouse two years later? What would make holy old religious consider themselves worthless? I will contend, first, that a single, serious spiritual failing commonly underlies these spiritual sicknesses. The failing is that we do not believe in and attend to the passionate love of God continually creating each hu-man self. Very likely, many have not even made an adult commitment to a principal foundational truth of revelation: God continues at every mo- 816 The Mirror in the Field ment the Creator even of the free human self. I will argue, secondly, that we have honorable reasons for finding it hard to keep this truth in mind. I will list five. However, thirdly, even if our reasons are honorable, we suffer a good deal because of this unmindfulness. Specifically, we suffer a syn-drome of problems that constantly show 'up in spiritual direction and re-treats, beginning with the perfectionism, negative self-imaging, and workaholism already mentioned and including others. I will list another five that I have observed. These problems, I will insist, have specifically psychological moments, but when we escape our psychological suffer-ing from, say, negative self-imaging, we then face a specifically spiri-tual issue of appropriate self-love. It is the root spiritual problem I am interested in here. To analyze it, fourthly, I. will return to and expand on my first point. For I find the root of this whole range of problems in our refusal to accept God's crea-tive loving not in the abstract (we all give notional assent to God the Crea-tor every Sunday), but in the concrete. I mean that we reject God's cre-ating when we choose to dislike, hate, or repudiate the concrete gifts that I am given and .the whole gift that I am. This radical refusal strains or even breaks an appropriate relationship with the self and with God. Finally, I will suggest that in some measure the cure for all of these problems lies in a wholehearted, living yes to the concrete realities in my history, in my life, and in the self that emerges within them. Forgetting the Constantly Creating God. As children we answered the question "Who made me?" with the belief ~'God made me." Now adults, we need to know that the question cannot read who made, but who is making me. l~or we know that it is not the case that G~)d made me in an historical event done with and over. It is the case that God, who is at every moment Maker, keeps on making me. In the fullest sense, my Maker keeps~3n shaping me as a human per-son and as a self. As a child I imagihed that God creates the w,ay rain fills a. vessel" It rains. The rain fills the vessel. The rain stops. The vessel remains filled. So God made me and now I am. This is an infantile conviction we need to grow out of. If I choose adult belief, I must imagine that God creates the way the sun illumines a mirror standing in a field. The sun's light fills the mirror and the mirror shines back. Did the sun stop. shin-ing, the mirror would go blank; as long as the sun shines, the mirror it-self radiates, light. So, as long as God's creating love burns in me, I am coming to be: Did he stop loving me right now--per impossibile, we like Review for Religious, November-December 1988 to think--I would stop right now coming to be. I would go blank. Why go back over these simple truths? Most feel that, put this baldly, they are too obvious to need saying. Indeed they are obvious, so obvious that we let them fade from functional beliefs to mere formali-ties in our faith-life. For God is so faithful and steadfast that we simply and unreflectively take for granted, not only his love, but even more his creating. Indeed, when men and women turn to God today (as at the be-ginning of a retreat, or in the middle of a life crisis), we gladly accept our divine parent cherishing us and we find deep consolation.and mean-ing in the Lord of all things loving us personally. We are by no means so quick to know our God as our constantly acting, all-powerful creator. I do not mean that the indifferent and sinful among us forget God creating. My experience in spiritual direction and retreat-giving leads me to contend that even people who pray regularly live unmindful of God's actiTe creating. Many who make the thirty-day lgnatian Exercises learn at the beginning to bask in God's steadfast love for them, but never ac-quiesce in the principal foundational truth: that what God wants must pene-trate my whole life and my whole self simply because God the Origin keeps on as the First Maker even of the human self as I keep emerging. We have learned in recent decades to take comfort in the thought that I am not yet complete, not yet finished; but we limit the meaning of that to not being finished making my own self, not mindful of the Other who has not yet finished, either. Perhaps we are not mindful of God's making because we get con-founded by trying to figure out how God's freedom and my personal free-dom fit together. We do indeed face some tremendous Speculative diffi-culties in fitting together human and divine freedom, and some people may suffer spiritual problems because of their speculations. But I have only very rarely met the person who labors under a kind of Luciferian aloneness before God, strapped into spiritual inertia by metaphysical co-nundrums. Most commonly, people live unmindful of God creating for deeply personal and experiential reasons, rooted in our current perception of our self and in our appreciation (or lack of it) of our concrete, per-sonal gifts. Honorable Reasons We are not to believe, however, that we fail to live mindful of the passionately making God from dishonest anger or sinful defiance~ On the contrary, I believe that we fail for several honorable reasons. The first, I think, comes from the way we now perceive the self. John Donne has argued that in the twentieth century we think of the self The Mirror in the Field as a reality that each of us brings forth. I am producing, I am making, myself. Our conviction sh6ws up in the way we talk: I have to do my own thing. I gotta be me. I have to be true to myself. I want to be authen-tic. In earlier ages people perceived the self differently. For instance, when Mary said, "My soul magnifies the Lord," she was perceiving her "self" as the sum total of her human experience. When she said, "The Lord has done great things in me," she was not talking about her little life right then. She was talking about the entire range of her little life history, all of the beginning, middle, and end. When Jesus asked, "What would a man gain if he got the whole world and lost his self?" he was not making an obscure point about some mysterious essence; he was making an obvious point about the man's entire life, his whole his-tory, his full being. Everyone can understand the point that nothing could reward a man for trashing that. We do not think that way. When we talk about our self, we .are talk-ing about something much more circumscribed, and still in process. We feel engaged in that process in every one of our initiatives and responses. We sense that we are bringing forth who I am moment by moment out of our experience, out of our history. So where does God fit in? We find it much easier to think of God as the Maker of things that are finished, and the Maker of things of which I am not the maker. We find it diffi-cult to keep in touch with the God who keeps engaged in making my whole self. The second reason why we find it: hard to keep mindful of this pas-sionately creating Love in us comes out of our relatively new knowledge of depth psychology. We can easily believe, as any child might, that God once created a self whole and intact, on whom others subsequently wreaked havoc. But we find it hard to believe two things: that God could create a self hag-ridden by an unconscious full of horrors and an id ooz-ing unresolved conflicts. And then, that God could actively continue cre-ating a self that learns lusts, neuroses, compulsions, phobias, and addic-tions before it is intelligently free or while it must choose under ruinous constraints. Does God make the self that craves alcohol which destroys that self? In what way can God be responsible for a self compelled to break out in shingles instead of breaking out of an insufferable situation? How is any god involved in creating that self? How could God be creat-ing a lesbian whose unchosen, vehement sexual desires clash shatteringly with her own cherished conscience? Both speculatively and experien-tially, we have trouble finding God's creating love inside the post- 820 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Freudian human personality. Thirdly, I think that we find it hard t~ believe that God actively shapes the self because we are so aware of sin structured into our world and of our own introjection of those structured sins. Unavoidably in my society, I feel certain racial prejudices. I came to understand only as an adult how much I am driven b~ sexism. Again with my society, I am com-ing to comprehend the blindnesses of ageism. Ev.ery day, we Americans feel the weight of the world's wealth, which so inequitably divides hu-mankind. Thus, in vague but poignant ways, we feel responsible for struc-tured sin and guilty for our part in it; and yet we feel quite helpless to change things. Why would a good God be creating oa feckless, con-founded self like mine? Fourthly, we face this business of a negative self-image. I find this ugly self-disvaluing hard to define or describe, but great numbers of pop-psychology books suggest that it is very strong. In books like Theodore Isaac Rubin's Compassion and Self-Hate and M. Scott Peck's People of the Lie, psychiatrists contend that distrust and despising of the self poi-sons the American psyche the way radioactive wastes poison: AmeriCan watertables. And noting the tide of seminars on assertiveness and self-improvement and all the Esalen Institutes around, we are forced to con-clude that something is going on in the self-evaluation of postmodern hu-mankind, and it is not positive. We are all members of David Riesman's "lonely crowd." Just recently we celebrated an anniversary and listened again to "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band." We resonated again to the Beatles' famous line: "All the lonely people, where do they all come from?" Indeed; where do they come from? We find it hard to keep mindful that all these listless folk are the current achievement of a pas-sionately loving God. Fifthly and finally, our difficulties are intensified hourly by the ad-vertisers and taste-makers. They persuade us of the self that we "ought" to,be. During the 1930s, practitioners came to believe that advertising could go far beyond merely extolling the virtues of a product. They de-cided that real advertising should make people feel that we truly need what is being advertised, that we cannot hope to live as fulfilled persons unless we are supported by that product. Ever since, that is how adver-tising works~---and it really does work--teaching us to feel out of it, apart~ not fulfilled, without an infinite number of products and services. Since we are effectively made to feel the need of something new just about every week~ we ~.ever can come to feel that we really belong, are included, are coming to fulfillment. So where is the passionately loving The Mirror in the Field God who is said to be at the core of my--empty-feeling, craving-to-be-filled-- self? There are the five honorable reasons why we find it difficult to stay mindful of God creating us right now and to live attuned to the passion, ate love of God burning in our hearts. Of course, even~if theseoreasons are honorable, they do not make it impossible for us to be responsible for our relationships to our self and to our God. The Sin of Our Age And even if they are honorable reasons, we suffer on account of them. We might have good reason for runn~ing' a car off the road, and still fracture our skull. For these five fractured insight~ into the self give us a badly distorted vision of it and make it easy for us to suffer an inap-propriate self-lov6. That inappropriate self-love, I believe, is the root sin of our age and it produces the whole syndrome of spiritual problems that I will come to i'n the next set of paragraphs. We stand under the commandment "Love your neighbor as your-self." We are thereby under a spiritual obligatioh of ultimate conse-quence,~ since the Last Judgmerit will be made in terms of how well w~ have loved our neighbor. And yet we pay almost no attention to that as yourself and we do not know how to love ourselves well. We give our-selves to many fake wa'ys: self-indulgence in drugs and'sensuous living, the narcissisms of body-building and dieting and fashion, the willful search for the perfect mate, and so ow. But Christlike self-love, or wise and fully human self-love? We hardly ~omprehend what it is: : And yet the spiritual success of appropriate self-love has been de-scribed for us iri wh'ole shelves of books. Their distilled wisdom can be put this way: Appropriate self-love begins in approving and growing to like the divine good in myself--the gifts that I have and the gift that0I am. I approve of my gifts in the concrete, not in the abstract, so that I enjoy (as possible instances) my yen to bevice-president or my daily three-mile run or my .hit-and-miss spelling, and I like the self underly-ing all ttiat. I approve of my gifts in ~the actual contexts of my living, both time and place. In particular; I approve the concrete qualities about myself and realities in my life over which I never did have ~ say, which began and perhaps remain outside my personal, free control. So I might have to approve of having Hispanic parents or growing up in Chicago or being male. Every one of us begins appropriate self-love .with this yes. Martin Luther King did not choose to have a minister for a father, or to grow up in the tradition of American black preaching. Geraldine Ferraro did ~122 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 not choose to be born a woman with a swift, articulate intelligence at a time when such a woman could be invited to enter public life. John F. Kennedy did not choose to be born Irish-American Catholic, of ambi-tious and effective parents. Each of these three faced a series of radical choices that added up to saying yes to their concrete gifts, Had King re-pudiated his tradition of preaching, he could have accomplished little. Had Ferraro feared her intelligence, she could not have made history. Had Kennedy ignored his parents, he might well have spent his life in a dinghy off Hyannis Port collecting sunburn. Certainly, he could not have been elected the first Catholic president. God creates and keeps creating each of us in this and that concre-teness, passionately loving us into this human limitation and that particu-lar share of his infinite self. Whai tasks fall to me, then? First of all, the task of loving myself. But if I love myself, then I love a concrete self, a self that God now creates and now loves into being as I am. Plainly, I cannot love what about me is unlovable--my sins and ugly failings. But neither can I allow my sins and failings to make me hate or even dis-like the self that commits them. (Parenthetically, within this discussion the distinction between love and like cannot separate what.is one thing, and covers a rotten lie.) For if I have learned anything at all from the Word of God, I have learned that God has chosen beforehand to love me, a sin-filled self. If I choose to despise and repudiate what God loves, do I not try to make myself better than God? To look at my own case, then, I had to approve of, appreciate, and grow to like an American born as the Great Depression began, of par-ents utterly impoverished by that cataclysm. I had to come to say yes to much else: male and first child; father a champion athlete and mother lu-minously religious; Southern boy and raised in New Orleans with its Mardi Gras mentality; Catholic and nephew of a Jesuit metaphysician. I had learned to hate "Japs" and to admire soldiers when only a child, and also to consider blacks lazy and Protestants strange. I grew in sex-ual orientation, too, before choosing, and in a hankering for books, in a home where mother and father remained lifelong lovers and all the adults were readers. Of course, I have made many choices that modify all that. But none of those choices was wise that did not begin where each of us must be-gin. First to say yes, I am a gift, and then to say yes in the concrete to each of the gifts that I am. Am I tall? Thank God I am tall. Am I short? That is my gift. If I am angry at standing short--at whom am I angry? Who keeps making me short? If I cannot believe that God wants me The Mirror in the Field / 823 short, then I have made my faith fall short, and I will have to believe in a mythical The Force or in Carl Sagan's demiurge, Chance. Again, am I very, very bright? Would I rather not be very, very bright, °and do I talk and act like a dolt to veil my brightness? Whom am I insulting then, but the One who keeps making me very, very bright? Tile most ba_sic truth emerges: In the most radical ways, I am not my own maker. I.~never was and am not now. We all know Isaiah 45:9: "Does the clay say to its fashioner, 'What are you making?' " But we tend to forget, deny, or repudiate the truth that we are still on the wheel and the Potter's hands are still shaping us. "Does the pot say to the pot-ter, 'You have no skill?' " Well, each of us, insofar as we do not say yes to the gifts that we have and are, are telling our Potter that he does not know what he is doing. We enact this repudiation in a number of ways, but we suffer one spiritual illness from the repudiation itself, no matter how we act it out. When any of us rejects God's passionate love, we diminish joy in our lives. Thomas Aquinas felt that anyone who rancorously repudiated God's concrete gifts in the self would lose all spiritual joy. For we do not make our joy; we find it. Joy is like the brilliance of the sun. I al-ways think of it as whet happens to a mirror when it faces towards the sun. SUddenly the sun's light fills the mirror and in instant consequences the mirror radiates abrilliance all around. In the same way, God's pas-sionate loving continually flows in us or we would not be, and the first consequence of saying yes to God's concrete gifting is radiant joy. How the Refusal Branches Out In this atmosphere of diminished joy, the radical failure or refusal to approve of my concrete gifts as comihg from God commonly gives rise to several gpiritual problems. How do I live if I do not feel that I have all that I need or really want? Or take a worse case: Suppose that I live afraid that I do not have the gifts I need, that I am spiritually in-adequate and just not "good enough." Or worst of all: Suppose that I am angry at life and~at God over concrete realities in my life. How would I show that? How would I live that out? I would suggest the following ways. Each way increases in intensity as a person goes from lack of trust in, to.fear of, and finally to disgust with his or her concrete gifts and self. First: laziness. Any of several causes may underlie a given person's laziness. But if people do not feel themselves worth much, or worthy of anything special, they might well act that out by doing little or nothing. Thus, if a high school girl acts lazy in algebra class, she almost certainly 824 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 believes that, being a girl, she could learn little"about it. And the sin-cere and hard-working parish priest who never gets to the prayer he truly would like to make almost surely feels unequal to the'requirements of prayer or unfit to profit from it. Lazy people accomplish nothing because they try nothing; and they try nothing because they. live' with the sense of having no adequate or relevant resources within themselves. Not~ here that some might appreciate tli~eir own personal gifts but think little of the good things of the earth or"Of human artifice. Some, for instffnce, do not see gifts in food and housing. They have all they need and want, but they take it'all for graiited, implicitly, declaring it slight and unimportant. Conseque'ntly, they simply do not feel the hu-man weight of the hunger and homelessness all around them. They are simply lazy in these matters of justice, and that laziness roots deeply in their despising the good things of the e~arth. Second: ineffectualness. If la~zy people attempt nb~t~ing, ineffectual people attempt things but accomplish nothing. They do n6t trust their own gifts enough to create, to produce, to bring forth. I kne~, an artist onEe, a~ European. 'ffho brought all kinds of material into his studio but put nothing out of it. He fooled around wit~ a~t I~ut 'made. little or ~oth-iflg. As it turned out, I~E lived ineffectuhl because he feared that his gifts as an artist had unbreakable ties'to his sexual orientation. He feared that being a successful artist would n.e~essarily'elicit~plJblicly his hcimosexu-ality, which he fehred and hated. More accurately, he hated himself for having homosexual feelings. After he came to live easy and chastely within his sexual orientation, he began producing the art work o~f which he had all alpng been ~capable. And most of us know devout Christians who get on.e spiritual book after another from thei~ Spiritual Book Club and never~ get beyond a. few pages in any of them. Many people ~dopt this way.0f living out their inadequate se!~f-lov~ or their self-loathing ineffectualness who~cannot be on time, or get an article,finished, or per-forum their jobs the way their talents and .intelligence pl~ainly allow. ,Third: negative self-image. So many suffer this~that it;can reason-ably be called the most common, psychological suffering in our culture. Sometimes it see~s as though the whole population were seeking help tow~ard self-affirmation in institutes, workshops, and popular paperback books with titles like Be Your Own Best Friend. Psychologists are be-ginning to see the roots of most addic.tions and compulsions in self-hatred. ~ Note carefully, however, that this psychological problem can and probably does mask a spiritual problem. Once I have outgrown my in- The Mirror in the Field fantile self-distrust or my adolescent self-loathing, and have come to an adult self-possession and self-approval, I am then free in facing ,relig-ious and spiritu~il reality. Can I--who have found it so easy to feel down on myself--give active approval to my whole history, to the life I now lead, and to myself as God has been and continues to shape me? Thus the problem of a negative self-image transmutes from a psychological problem to a spiritual problem. What do I personally believe about God's creating me? DQ.I feel hope about myself and abgut humankind even in the rush~and torrent of our limitations ands failures? Do I .like the person. God is making me? Can I rejoice in the personalities who burrow into my.eg .o:--or do I insist on more "impr~essivei' friends? Can I approve of and rejoice in those persons whom God has given me to live with and work with? and in "the vast throng of. people" on earth? Probably all of us know some psychologically balanced people who deliberately choose to dislike¢ reject, or despise their history, life, and self. I know'one woman who periodically feels the need to denounce in Savage terms the dedicated women who taught her in grade school. We all know ~men who consider their (quite ordinary and honorable) jobs a degradation. Some see flaws, in the self and vaguely dislike the whole self as a consequen6e--flaws as trivial as fat'hips or shyness or a quick lip. A woman blurted out recently, "I hate myself when I do that." The "that" was a genuinely trivial failing, but she spoke a weighty truth: She does indeed hate herself, and regularly takes the occasion of trivial failing to reassert her hatred. Some even see strengths in the self and hate the strengths and, in them, ,the self. I remember one man feeling,bad about himself becausehe, could "only run three miles a day," and he had passed fifty. The. truth.is that a "negative~seif-image" is one dis, guise that we borrow from our culture in Order to mask our distrust or disapproval of how and what.God is.~.creating us. It is a commonplace'.among us that most of. us find it hard to acknowl-edge our virtues and our strengths. We ,also find it easy to get depressed by our failings. I often.suggest for a period of prayer at the beginning of a retreat the exercise of going over'personal gifts of every .kind, pre-cisely to say yes to God creating me. I find the vast majority of re-treatants unable to stay with this exercise. Why is this? Are these lapses of appropriate self-love mere, ly "psychological" in the sense,that they function less than consciously in the personality? I believe that they are more than that. I believe that they grow from an ongoing option or deci-sion: "I am not much. I am not very good. ! am a nothing." This fun-damental option fractures or even ruptures a person's relationship with Review for Religious, November-December 1988 the self and with the Maker.of the self. It is an offense against, the love of God concretely burning in myself. The option can actually become a repudiation of that creating love. I am afraid it did in'the life of a ex-seminarian who had tried all the drugs and all the sex, and who con-cluded several hours of sharing with the despairing remark, "God made me a piece of junk." Fourth: bitterness and rancor. Some prideful and arrogant people lash out bitterly and destructively when they cannot impose their will on events. But others who live bitter and rancorous lives see everything from the underside. On their tongues every taste of life is bitter; in their eyes every living scene unfolds under a shadow. They aggressively scan events and people for material to "bitch" about. ThEy seem to live to heap up more and more evidence that the'ir world and everyone in it are no good. One ex-priest, for instance, offered to the president of his uni-versity this odd praise about a just-completed.building: "Even I can find nothing to complain about." That man had known for decades that he lived a bitter life, and all he would do about it was to wear a mask of sardonic drollery over his emptiness. His friends all connived in his bit-terness, too, laughing at his lunges and unable to name what made him so rancorous. Yet it was plain: he gave himself to disgust at God's lov-ing creating---of his own artistic gifts, of his self, of the motley collec-tion of men and women around him. A recovering alcoholic, a woman whose children have grown and gone, has decided to live without drink, but has also decided to live feel-ing cheated and shortchanged by her disease. She is what Alcoholics Anonymous calls a "dry alcoholic." She bitterly protests'that she can-not take a drink as can nonalcholics. She demands to be able to take a casual drink and hates that she cannot. Her conversation--on whatever topic--roils with rancor. She certainly does not say yes to a self troub-led by her disease. She plainly repudiates that part of herself and dark-ens her whole life with her refusals. But who creates her alcoholic genes? Who makes a gift of each day she lives? Whom does she offend by re-fusing to rejoice in each of her living days-.'? The bitter and rancorous may seem to hate everyone around them, and may indeed do so, But as "char-ity begins at home," so does hatred. Fifth: workaholism. A lot of holy people work Ioiag, hard days out of sense that their own time is precious and their own gifts needed by God's people. They work in inner freedom. A lot of others fling them-selves into some special work because they truly love and exult in what they are doing. But very many people work and work and work and do The Mirror in the Field / 827 nothing else. They cannot not work. Their work makes up their life and their self. They do not have the freedom to take true leisure--to enjoy, as we say very accurately, themselves. The truth is that they do not en-joy their selves. They do even not approve of themselves, except a little bit when they are exhausting themselves at work. Henri Nouwen tells of a priest who would not, could not, take time in his day to be still and pray and who finally came to admit why: "I am afraid of what I will find in myself." Precisely. Real workaholics fear their selves. They keep producing and producingbecause they do not really believe they are worth anything apart from what they produce. One religious who had badly burned her-self out in twelve years of administration asked, "What am I trying to prove?" She was trying to prove what she did not need to prove, but only to accept: "You are precious in my eyes, and I love you" (see Is 54). The mere attempt to prove that I am worthy of God's creating love stands in direct opposition to acknowledging that his love comes first and humbly acceptipg it. Three other ways that we live out inadequate self-love show up often enough to merit mention, and several minor ways can just be listed. Sixth: perfectionism. Some of us continually place impossibly high goals for ourselves, which "proves" how much we think of ourselves. Then, as a matter of course, we fail toreach those goals, and that "proves" that we are not really what we like to think we are but in fact ~ire not worth much. For the perfectionist, nothing ordinary serves; he or she needs to aim only for the perfect. As an instance: A truly fat man in the.South decided that a man like himself, ought to look like a Califor-nia beach boy. So he.set out to diet by eating only one thousand calories a day, a caloric intake unlikely even for a scarecrow. Within seventy-two hours he found himself back to eating a thousand calories before noon, and, of course, to this day he lumbers around no less large. He does, however, feel more convinced than ever that he is weakwilled and worthless. Why cannot this man simply eat more rationally? Many rea-sons operate, perhaps; but one leadifig reason is that he cannot see him-self simply as a normally rational person. He demands that his mind have despotic sway over his whole self and particularly over his appetite for food. He demands that the physical shape that would emerge from the fat resemble--not an ordinary, regular-sized American male moving to the downside of middle age--but a bronze statue of Hercules by Phidias. He will be perfect! The tr.uth is that with that demand he covers a fear that he can have no kind of reasonable sway over his self and his appe- Review for Religious, November-December 1988 tites. He hides that self-deprecating belief under a cover of perfection-ism. A lot of good,'praying people do the same. One mature and experi-enced nun who ha~l pray~ faithfrilly for years could not shake the feel-ing that'her prayer was "not very good." Her prayer was fine, in my opinioh; what needed spiritual insight and God's gracing was her demand that she pray like Teresa of Avila. This woman had not really been will-ing to approve wholeheartedly her own way of praying, and that unwill-ingness by itself had kept her off center and vaguely unhappy for years. Seventh: lust for experience. We need to note first that~today Ameri-cans place, tremendous trust ih our own experiences and feel keen dis-trust of any "truth" not-arrived at experientially. Further, we can be per-suaded rather readily to try anything, from a drink' or a drug to a new kind of prayer. We tend to subscribe to the pseudomoral dictum that, ~if you are able to, then yowought to expei'ience everything. We :are all in some measure like the'New York woman in analysis who reported her exhaustion to her doctor--too much sex, drugs, dancing, eating,° not enough sleep. The doctor asked her why she' did it,~and the woman bolted up and blurted out, "You mean I don't have to do everything I want to do?" She was in analysis because she was not doing what she wanted to do, but.,what her social group made her feel she ought to want to do. She felt ~compelled to experience whatever the group moved into. 'That compulsivity and obsessiveness grows out of an empty~ center. She did not really know what she, herself, wanted todo in,the depths of her.self; she feared the depths of her self. ~, Many of us give ourselves to experiences that diminish our human dignity or diminish our freedom, as~did the woman in analysis. I know. one couple whose children, now beginning to move into their own ca-reers, have. submitted to eve~ry kind of religious :experience, from CCD at home to charismatic~weekends and the permanent diaconate, because the parents hankered after spiritual"experience, not because the children required anything. Some Catholics roam from liturgy to liturgy,oseeking the ritual that,w.ill fill their "needs"~as though Sunday Mass does not rise out of fullness, 'bUt fills an emptiness. In them, actually, it is made to, occasionally and briefly. Eighth: inability to make commitments. Why have so many failed to make firm, long-range commitments? Among the many reasons, Cas-sian pointed out one very basic reason when he described the gyrovagus, the wandering monk who always came to feel that the'monastery over the next.~hill had a better religious life than the monastery he.live~t in. The Mirror in the Field / 829 So he wandered to the next and the next monastery, hoping to become a better monk. Fundamentally, the monk's problem lies not in his mon-astery; his problem lies in his own self. He does not like the monk he is. He does not approve of the monk he is. Or if he does, he does not want to grow into the man that this monastery, with these monks, at this time, will shape him into. So he moves on again and again, unable to make the crucial permanent commitment. A young Texan turned into a living gyrovagus when he went from a diocesan seminary to a congregation's novitiate to taking vows in an order and then to another diocesan seminary. His disapproval of the way he lived in those places seemed to be of those "monasteries"; actually, it reached deep into his own self. I would not expect ordination to fill his emptiness, and if he does accept ordination, his parishes (a succes-sion of them, surely) will have an impossible time making him under-stand that they appreciate him. Another example of the inability to make lasting commitments: A gifted psychological therapist changed cities several times and kept ac-quiring new skills. He even absorbed thorough training in spirituality and spiritual direction. When he was about thirty-five and weary of starting over again and again, he came to understand that he had never really felt the weight ,and value of his very considerable talents. As he let himself appreciate them withoutguilt, and particularly as he consciously built friendships with highly intelligent and success'ful peers, he felt more and more grateful for his own gifts and freer to rejoice in using them with-out having to feel that he was required to. He also felt himself more and more deeply committed--to his profession, to his faith, to his friends, and to the city where he had settled. Then there is the marriage commitment. We can leave aside cases of psychological dysfunctioning, like the California twenty-year-old who left his often drugged wife three months to the day after the church wed-ding, muttering that he had not known whom he was marrying. He had known, actually, and so had his friends and his parents. His actual spiri-tual problem had been that he had not known that he was punishing him-self by marrying her. Among the sane and whole, every spouse faces bone-deep challenges in living out the marriage commitment. For, once married, each feels invited to be a new person by union and communion with this special spouse who invites him or her. She will at times ask herself vehemently, "Why did I ever marry him?" At those times she will be feeling the stress of still becoming and changing in ways intimate to her marriage that she cannot control. She cannot design to make her Review for Religious, November-December 1988 spouse another person than he is, even though as he is he will give shape to herself. If she truly loves herself as a married woman, she will wel-come those new ways of becoming and growing along with him, saying her yes to her emerging self. In the same way, if a husband deeply ap-proves of himself as husband and likes the man who is this woman's hus-band, he will hardly insulate himself from the summons to grow and change that emanate from this woman as she lives and becomes, even though he has no mastery over the ways he feels summoned to grow and inexorably will at times keenly resent them. So monk and professional and married person all either say yes to an emerging self whose emergence none controls all alone, or say no. Our primordial task as creatures remains intact in and through all our free decisions: to praise God for what we are becoming, reverence his creat-ing, and serve him by following where the Spirit of Life leads us--in the concrete. To this list of eight larger flawed realizations of self-love, various writers add other specific ones. Cassian adds monkish indolence, acedia. St. Thomas adds garrulity, prying curiosity, and true malice. He also lists religious diffidence, which means the refusal to grow in the interior life. Could he speak right now, he might add integralism to that, because the rock-bound conservative often clings to externals like Latin rites or neoscholastic formulations to defend himself against a deep fear that his own faith-commitment and believing would not stand up to current chal-lenges. Some centuries later SCren Kierkegaard explored the "despair from weakness" of those who finally cannot let themselves trust the self that God is creating in them. In their turns, Josef Pieper dwells on one grave inability of those who do not approve of who God makes them to be: the inability to take true leisure. And Sebastian Moore shows that those who feel unlovable do not love anyone or anything very much. All their desiring is pallid, so consistently that he names their condition a spiritual disease: erosthenia, a flaccidity of passion. This makes an impressive list of spiritual problems: laziness, inef-fectualness, negative self-image, bitterness, workaholism, perfectionism, the insatiable lust for experience, the inability to make lasting commit-ments, and also acedia, garrulity, prying curiosity, malice, integralism, the despair of weakness, the inability to take leisure, and erosthenia. Plainly, they arise from many different life experiences and in varied life circumstances. Just as plainly, they have many causes and motivations. But in our own day and time, they all readily grow as it were in vitro, from a hollow self, flooded with the nourishing medium of pitiful self- The Mirror in the Field / 831 disapproval or arrogant self-hatred. This unwillingness to accept the self I am coming to be, which can ripen into a disgust with who I am and even a resentful hatred of myself, very possibly makes up the deepest root of sin in our day and time. The Wholehearted Life In the face of such a list of spiritual problems, any talk about solu-tions would show extravagant optimism. Fortunately, I am not discuss-ing here the solutions of many problems, but the escape from or avoid-ance of a single problem: the radical spiritual one of refusing to accept, in concrete particulars, whom God is making me. But even then I intend not to list all the saving activities we might throw ourselves into to solve that single problem, because that would tend to confirm the very mis-taken conviction that underlies the problem, that our own activity comes first in our salvation. Instead, in this last section, I will sketch briefly and from living mod-els how those people live who are very successfully avoiding or escap-ing this foundational problem. I experience them as, and name them, wholehearted. Not that their hearts beat totally integral and without the murmur of human flaws and failings. Rather, they live out of their whole hearts--their selves--just as they find them in this minute. The whole-hearted might twang like an old player piano, but with every note and chord they give God and the world around them all the music they can pour out. I will speak first about the inner life of the wholehearted and then about its external manifestations. What goes on in their spirit from day to day? First, they say yes to this day, to the gift of it and the gifts in it. They not only "live in the present moment"; they approve of the present moment as of a gift. And in that yes they are approving of their personal history and the life they now lead. More, they choose to live glad to be what they now are and to be doing what they are doing (unless, of course, they have come to a time of decision, which they will perceive more as opportunity than as termination). When they think larger, they do not feel guilty about the plenty and the privilege in which they live. To start, they feel grateful for the earth, and for humankind, and for the universe. They feel desires of many kinds, some of them strong. Among them all, they try to keep their de-sire for God in Christ in first place. For the rest of their desires, they take responsibility as well as they can, enacting those they think authentic Review for Religious, November-December 1988 with courage and with equal courage suppressing those they recognize as drawn from unworthy sources (the Spirit of Darkness or of unruly flesh). In all desiring, what they want keeps them connected with the peo-ple around them and in some appropriate measure with current, affairs~ All in all, their desiring shapes up into a great desire to make things all right for the world and for every single person now in it; but their hop-ing does not depend on immediate success in the eriterprise. The wholehearted live in appropriate autonomy. As teenagers, for in-stance, still coming to be individuals they depend heavily on peer'opin-ion. As young adults, vindicating their uniqueness; they live carefully independent of "popular opinion;" particularly about the moral cruxes in interpersonal relations. As spouses, they give and take in thorough in-terdependence. All along, precisely because they like themselves, they are able to stabilize affective relationships. This liking of themselves gives rise in them to what is sometimes called a'democratic personality structure. Negatively, this means that their personality is not bound down by one need or drive or ideology. The spiritually wholehearted are not broadly compulsive; on the con-trary, they live and move in relative interior freedom. I do not mean that they never have some dominant desire or great enterprise in their lives. Some live outof a profound, specific desire. Neither do I mean that the wholehearted do not sin, ev.en seriously. I have known some who did. They sinned wholeheartedly, and if they repented, they repented whole-heartedly-- hating rather the thing they did than the one who did it. A married man high in a bloated corporation gave himself a year or two of lascivious fornication. When he heard the Spirit (his words) summon him back, he submitted himself to astonishing inconveniences and physi-cal discomforts suggested to him as (a long) penance. Put positively, all of the wholehearted can hold some priority and or-dering in what they want to get accomplished, gladly getting at one goal while postponing others without guilt. They can also respond readily to surprise demands, able to set aside their own agenda when they see that as appropriate and not feeling put upon about it. We need to take care here. In my experience, some of us suffer from one or other addiction or compulsion (neatnik, chocolate maniac, or some less acceptable culturally) and yet live truly wholehearted lives. This is a mystery to me, that we can find ourselves broken and power-less to heal the break and yet lead wonderfully wholehearted lives. I take this as truly suffering from the Original Sin and from all those sins vis-ited .upon us without our approval or connivance, or with our forced co- The Mirror in the Field / 833 operation, by alcoholic parents, sexually addicted elders, neurotic supe-riors, viciously selfish peers, and on and on. Somehow we are sum-moned within the pockmarked life that all of us lead to give our yes to God's passionate loving in us. I do not see that holiness is wholeness. Most of us find ourselves with neuroses, mild or severe, temporary or lifelong. If we can, for all that, love what we find and the One who is making it, then we have begun to live holy lives. There is much more to this, but we cannot ignore addictions and com-pulsions and the yes that those of us who suffer them must say to the self that God is making us. For very many of us find ourselves in this excru-ciating condition. All of us need to remember that at the core of every addicted and every compulsive self--the phobic, the masturbator, the child-beater, even the rapist--the passionate loving of God burns on crea-tively. But each of them stands on the brink of an apparently impassable chasm. For no one can be in touch with that creating love who does not love the self within whom it burns, and such a staggering number of us are taught, subtly.and powerfully and with enormous precision, to dis-like or to hate ourselves. The fact is, social psychologists are beginning to discover, addictions and compulsions normally grow out of an inade-quate appreciation of the self or out of self-hatred. Then how are com~ pulsive people or addicts to think of this? The way all of us think: As I say my yes to God's creating love, I will know that I am humbly truth-ful and wholehearted when I rejoice even while I suffer what I am and what is. I am heroically wholehearted when I can set aside any demand on my self that I myself or any other persons or things be as I think they "ought" to be and can take all as I find it. We all do what Paul did af-ter he had prayed three times and the thorn still rankled. The thorn just kept rankling, and Paul just kept on sinning (by his own testimony); but we have no evidence that he got down on himself for that or any other reason. Paul certainly knew his worth, and that is a great, great virtue. This brings me, second, to the ways a wholehearted yes to the Lord manifests itself externally. The first sign is joy. Let the light bulb accept electric current. In-stantly it is full of light and instantly it radiates that light to all around. In just that way, the wholehearted radiate joy. Even when they find in-justice and disorder, they are filled rather with a sorrow that leads to com-passion that leads to action--than with a sadness that leads to pity that leads to self-absorption. This joy gives the wholehearted a definite, in-viting presence. They like who they are and therefore feel no need to hide or wear masks. They are simply present, shyly if they are shy, brightly Review for Religious, November-December 1988 if they are bright, brashly if they are young enough. Moreover, the wholehearted live an effective life, by which I mean they make things happen. They live content that God is giving them this or that job or task to do, and simply do it. And at the same time, the wholehearted usually have a lively sense of duty and of obligation. They seem to trust their own consciences, and they clearly trust that God is ordering all things sweetly from end to end. So the wholehearted tend to rejoice that they are required to do something or to omit something. They do not have time to regret what they might miss; they are too busy enjoying what they hit upon. Their attitude toward authority shows itself wholehearted, too. Here is a hugely complex business, but let me just say that any who like who they are and what God is making of the world really perceive the work-ing of authority in the world and actually accept the consequences into themselves. They feel the pull of authority where it actually appears, let-ting it instruct their understanding and warm their motivation. They also sense its absence even when someone is throwing his weight around, and if they conform when pressed by raw power, they do it while maintain-ing their sense of self-worth. As the wholehearted grow more and more mature, they can calibrate more and more subtly the weight of authority and their own response to it. I could list a number of other external signs of a wholehearted yes to God's passionate loving. The wholehearted, for instance, show a true love for creation and prefer to honor their environment. The whole-hearted seem able to show benevolence all around, not threatened by the rich or pressured by the poor, gracious to the bright and to the doltish. They tend to learn compassion early in their lives, and empathy, too. They approve of their culture even while rejecting values in it that con-tradict their own. Speaking of Americans, they live very grateful to be called to life in a rich, free, exuberantly creative land, and they show their gratitude not by badmouthing the nation, but by doing what they can to leave it somewhat better than they found it. But let me end by pointing out a nearly infallible sign of a whole-hearted yes to God's creating love: the wholehearted can take true lei-sure. What is true leisure? I find the experts--Karl Rahner and Josef Pieper, for instance--hard-pressed to define leisure, but they are clear that people at leisure are out from under production goals and rigid work-schedules and that whatever activities they might engage in do not pro-duce food and clothing and other things necessary to human life. Nei-ther do those at true leisure lie in passive numbness, their imaginations The Mirror in the Field / 835 blank and their energies depleted. Rather, they typically play or muse or commune with friends or create. In general, leisure means the free en-actment of our whole humanness simply out of joy that we live--in this or that way, here, in this place, among these folk. We take leisure while all our regular tasks wait to be looked after, feeling sure that One watches while we let them go. We evoke leisure, not theoretically, but from the concrete gifts we choose to act grateful for, sensed as rising from the pas-sionate original gift of God's creating love. Those who pray and wor-ship God take the truest of true leisure. The Last Reflection And those who have thought these thoughts about inappropriate self-loathing and appropriate self-love, and felt all these convictions about saying yes to God's creative love burning in the core of their life and their self, have given themselves to true leisure. In the measure that they feel consoled by them, and in the measure that they feel joy rising through them, they are giving themselves wholeheartedly to the passion-ate love of God burning in the center of their selves. They are mirroring back to him the blazing love he radiates to them and in them. They are becoming the mirror in the field. Standing on a Wooden Bridge It creaks now more than it used to . seems I left myself standing here only to meet me farther on here. The swirling water carries my frail leaf far beyond the viewing point. Refulgent water, flow me forth unto the Son! Barbara Ann Opfer 2027 Campbell, B-8 Sandusky, Ohio 44870 The Addicted/Dependent Minister Thomas D. Noesen, O.P. Father Noesen was a diocesan priest for eleven years before entering the Order of Preachers. He may be addressed at Aquinas Institute; 3642 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. "that our affections kill us not--nor dye" (John Donne) It is no secret that stress and burnout are high among professional minis-ters. Priests, religious, and lay professionals need at times to get out of ministry for their own well-being and to get in touch with their own de-pendencies. Priests are in the top listings of professionals with alcoholic addiction. The present-day minister struggles with human dependencies and addictions which bring persons to a dysfunctional level of service. Henri Nouwen says that we are wounded healers and that sometimes the minister is more wounded than healer. "Physician, heal thyself" is whis-pered by some of the confused congregation, but greater numbers in the assembly empathize with a more human condition. Men and women are getting professional help in residential treatment centers, private coun-seling, and support groups. Dependency and addiction are commonplace for today's ministers. C. S. Lewis in his book The Four Loves says that the problem with ministers is that they treat the people they minister to as "other." This failure is making ministry less workable. The minis-ter need not be a barefoot cobbler. This paper will look at addictions and the minister. (In this text I use the words dependency and addiction interchangeably; this will become more obvious to the reader as the behavioral dynamics are explored.) Granted that we are part of an addiction culture, the minister falls prey to it more often. The men and women in ministry are people-oriented per-sons; some of the most perceptive and insightful members of the popu- 836 The Addicted/Dependent Minister lation are in ministry: They are insightful and perceptive not only of oth-ers and themselves but of life itself. This latter visionary quality can cause much anxiety and insecurity. The primal angst of life's meaning can bring great stress to the ministry professions. Teaching and preach-' ing daily, these people live what many people would only think of at times of birth, death, or personal crisis. This type of stress and iniensity makes ministers prime targets of addiction. The minister is granted trust by many to know their secrets, deepest feelings, and hidden thoughts. Because of intirfi~acy, the minister carries the confidences of hundreds all at one time. It is rather easy for the minister to meet the needs of the oth-ers and to neglect his or her own. Ministers can become victims to their own intensities. Four terms are used in this paper talking of addiction. They are in-dependent, dependent, codependent, and interdependent. Independency and codependency are both unhealthy. The reader needs to know that any-one can be part of all four at once. The healthiest movement is always toward chosen dependency and interdependency. Codependency Many times the minister comes from a codependent background and unknowingly continues the dynamics in ministry. Adult children of al-coholics are common codependents. The traits of codependents are closely connected with the minister. The codependent is: I. usually a very good person, valuable to society, and often ends up in the helping professions. (One study shows 83% of nurses were from alcoholic homes and the oldest children.) Codependents are nice and likeable people. 2. a victim of low self-esteem and self-worth and makes himself or herself indispensable to others. (In counseling, the codependent coun-selor gets angry at the dependent spouse rescuing the addicted spouse. That adds up to three dysfunctional addicts--thi~ two spouses and the counselor.) 3. a good sufferer. These people make "good" Christians, martyrs, and so forth. The unspoken script of the codependent is "I'm good be-cause I suffer so much." 4. the first to volunteer; always wanting (actually needing) to be of service; always wanting it to be noticed that they are exhausted. 5. selfless to the point of hurting himself or herself. Psychosomatic illness is common in the codepeqdent. Life becomes a pain in the anat-omy. There is a need for aspirin, Bufferin, Preparation H, and so forth, in the beginning, and it can build to major medical care over years. Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Thes-~'five points can define a messiah complex in a nonreligious ter-minology. A codependent is anyone out of a dysfunctional home; so this term codependent is generic: an embarrassing spouse, children, extended-family members. Codependency even links emotional disabilities to un-known ancestors. So what is the codependent's payoff? The people with whom the codependent interacts become dependent on the codependent; this way the codependent feels needed. Naming the Addictions/Dependencies Since ministers teach the gospel statement that the ff~uth will set one free, denial of addictions should have little space to survive. But nam-ing, claiming, and taming dependencies is very difficult because the de-pendencies are cunning, baffling, and powerful. There are two types of addictions: substance addiction and process addiction. Substance addic-tion is an element that can be and should be totally removed. Process ad-diction is something that will always be present, but needs to be lived with constructively and not destructively. This latter addiction is the thorn in the side of most ministers. Addiction is an exaggerated pattern. Rigorous honesty is the key in reading the following lists. Twelve-step programs use the rigorous-honesty term, and this honesty often needs to come from outside the de-pendent. Until honesty is present, the dependent is a victim. Some common substance addictions/dependencies are: alcohol / sex (cas-ual or recreational) / caffeine / chocolate / nicotine / cocaine/heroin / refined sugar / gambling / marijuana / counter drugs / prescription drugs. Some common process addictions/dependencies are: work or busy-ness / sex (casual or recreational) / negative memories / "prayer" and worry / eating disorders (boulimia, anorexia, compulsive overeating) / religious fanaticism / sports (spectator or participant)/"collecting" de-pendent people / exclusive friendships/the Peter Pan syndrome / the Wendy complex / exercise /reading / attention-rejection-exhaustion / greed (compulsive spending) / control-powe'r~manipulation / success-failure- competition / TV ! sleep / anger-guilt-depression / self-pity and co-pity / anger-denial-control. Ministers are often addicted to ministry itself because they are so needed. To be human is to be dependent, but there is a healthy balance which ministers have an obligation to discern. All helping professionals have a responsibility to get their good feelings somewhere other than their clients. Ministers must know their dependencies well in order to min-ister effectively. It is so easy for ministers to project what they them-selves need onto someone else. Really soon--because of the ministers' The Addicted/Dependent Minister addiction bent--feelings get very muddled and quality ministry is endan-gered. Ministers are constantly dealing with others' feelings and can stuff their own. These stuffed feelings can come out as body illness or inap-propriately elsewhere. For example, for ministers to get charged up in anger with the clie ~nt, or with the client's oppressor, or the client's anger at the Church, or the client's anger at government, and so forth, is eas-ier for them than claiming their own inner anger, guilt, or whatever. Granted that these feelings of the client may be very real, still the "dance" of the dependent minister may be to a different tune than the client is trying to play. It is as if one is fox-trotting and the other is do-ing the waltz. Choosing Our Addictions/Dependencies Dependencies are a given to our human condition. Ministers should be model addicts by example; this is where the newer holistic spiritual-ity models can be most helpful. Ministers need to choose daily, healthy dependencies. To list a few: time alone, prayer, reflection, physical ex-ercise, support groups, non-ministry-oriented hobbies and/or friends, and nonprofessional reading. Healthy ministers continually expand and deepen throughout life--this is an integrating process. Unhealthy minis-ters fragment and splinter themselves to meet their needs of dependency and take a flock of disciples along. Healthy ministers need both to mas-ter and be mastered; unhealthy ministers either master totally or become totally mastered. Remember, extremes mark the unhealthy dependent per-sonality. Often unhealthy ministers want to be appreciated (needed) for their wealth of knowledge, fund raising, generosity, cleverness, organiza-tional skills, virtue, leadership, and so forth. None of these qualities can be considered intrinsically wrong, but the ministers' control of them can take away even God's freedom of their use. This is not to say that good is not accomplished by addi~:tive ministers; it is. The problem usually is the unhappiness of the ministers and not always the results of their min-istry. In our Church many of the most rewarded ministers are the most unhe~ilthy addicts. The Codependent Cast of Characters The alcoholic home has taught us much about unhealthy dependen-cies and the roles the members fall into. The minister may often come from a dysfunctional home that is not necessarily alcoholic. The family characters are listed in their usual order. Often the minister is one or 1140 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 more of these characters. Maybe the minister played out one role as a child, a different one as an adult, and maybe even a different role in his/ her professional life. When there is a dependency in a home, the whole family system is dysfunctional. No one escapes and everyone is affected. Those various persons may be described as follows: The dependent(usually a spouse) is the one using the substance around which the whole family unit rearranges itself. The family's individual needs and feelings are not met because of°denial, guilt, and anger. The enabler (usually a spouse) feels responsible for everyone's feel-ings. The enabler usually tries to keep peace, save face, and guard the family secret. The enabler makes ends meet financially and emotionally. The enabler needs to control and needs to be needed. This person thrives on exhaustion. The hero (usually the oldest) tries to keep the family secret by look-ing good at school, work, and so forth. This can be in sports, honor so-cieties, and so forth. The hero is organized, responsibl~, and mature to extremes. The hero is a doer-~cannot stop doing. The hero suffers from fear, loneliness, and stifled anger. The scapegoat (often the second child) is prickly and hard to get along with; he or she appears to be the family problem. The scapegoat often chooses wild friends, gets pregnant in teen years, breaks the law, and gets into substance addiction. Traits of the scapegoat are very diffi-cult and frequently impossible to understand. The lost child (usually the third in birth) often uses isolation for self-protection; lives in fantasy, quietness, and distance; wants to please at all costs; tries to be good but feels bad; has no opinions or feelings to speak of; never causes problems. The mascot (often the youngest) laughs on the outside and cries on the inside; is clumsy, whimsical, and so forth, while trying to focus off the substance; is the clown trying to make the sad family better. This person is hyper, but lonely and scared. He or she is the family medicine man. As ministers try to bring care to a family, the trap may snap and they can easily be caught and overwhelmed. Ministers must therefore have some knowledge of basic dependency dynamics, but, more than that, they should have a keen awareness of their own inner feelings and de-pendencies. They must know their own limitations and be able to say no and to judge when to refer clients. At such times they minister to them-selves. If they do not take care to function at their best, they will be caught in self-pity and/or co-pity games. The minister may say "this whole thing is absurd," "too much The Addicted/Dependent Minister / ~141 analysis," "my past is my past," and so forth. Perhaps the minister is clean and emotionally balanced; that does not mean the parish staff, re-ligious community, and/or office staff share that same wellness. Today more and more ministers are looking hard and long before taking a posi-tion. By the same norms, the employing staffs are screening more be-fore hiring. Many parish staffs are dysfunctional because they are clos-eting one or more unhealthy dependencies. Clinebell (Pastoral Care and Counseling) says that "spiritual vitality and health are contagious; it is caught more than it is taught." Ministers look more and more for an en-vironment of wellness if they themselves are well. The Rocking-Chair Minister Rocking-chair ministers are not on the porch waiting for someone to come and seek help; on the contrary, they are twice as busy as other min-isters trying to get the gospel spread. "Rocking chair' '--because interi-orly they go back and forth like a rocking chair; their feelings and ac-tions are all fuzzy and confused. Nevertheless, they are sometimes bla-tantly forceful people. There are several cycles of feelings and behavior that dovetail together. The following are some specifics of the "proc-ess addiction" mentioned above: Unhealthy Process Healthy Process worry/' 'prayer" anger/guilt/depression attention/rejection/ exhaustion anger/denial/control self-pity/co-pity affirmation/ownership/ integration/letting go anger/ownership/expres-sion/ letting go control/ministry assess-ment/ service/letting go delegation saying no In the following stories, theologies or ministry models vary. But that is not the issue. The issue is the ministers' inner world; that is, the min-isters are not ministering to themselves even though, otherwise, they are very effective ministers. Story A Father Jones worries about his people because they are so poor. They are doing better than they were before he came, and many of them tell him how much they appreciate his concern. He prays that God take care of this poverty and abolish it. Soon he finds himself an-gry at God for not curing the problem, angry at the insensitive bishop and at those in their posh offices for not prioritizing this; he is angry at 1142 / Review for Religious; November-December 1988 the richer members of the parish because they are not removing the pov-erty from their own parish. Burdened with guilt for attacking God, the Church, and his parishioners, Father Jones turns inward; depression and dullness set in and the cycle begins all over again. Father Jones is from a good small-business family that has been reputable in the community for generations. The cycle here is worry, prayer, anger, guilt, depres-sion. Story B Millie is in social-outreach ministry. She started a parish pro-gram and became deanery coordinator in this same area. Now she has founded the diocesan office for reaching out to teenage single mothers, runaways, and abused children. She holds a high profile with the me-dia. It gets money for the project. She loves the attention and limelight, and she feels it is all for Jesus. When given Church honors and civic ac-claim, she rejects it all. Miilie is torn inside between wanting to be no-ticed and disowning the recognition. She has been taking medicine for what her doctor calls exhaustion. Millie has tried to explain to her doc-tor that he is indispensable at this time; she will back off later when the time is right, Millie's dad was an alcoholic, but he has been sober since she was in the first grade. The unhealthy cycle here is attention, rejec-tion, and exhaustion. Story C Tyler is one of those rare, always smiling ministers who do very well with youth. One of his personal goals for youth is sacred space. In both parishes where he has been, he had small, multipurpose rooms that served for recreation and worship space. In the one parish there was a room with a large wooden carved crucifix before the youth took it over; in the other parish, a family had donated a large crucifix in memory of their daughter, killed in a summer outing. In both places Tyler went rounds over the crucifix issue. Always pleasant, he demanded a risen Christ figure. He said we are about resurrection and not all tfiis pain. "I believe it is Easter we are to remember; let's not make our kids hold on to Good Friday." Tyler escalated these issues to maximum polarization; the people became divided. Tyler had theologized his anger, stuffing it away, and used Christ to deny it; using his charism and position, he con-trolled the environment and won out. Tyler had been adopted at two months of age. His birth mother had neglected and abused him. He was raised in a healthy (functional) family since three months of age. Story D Deacon Bernard loves to minister. He would be a priest, but he wanted a wife and family and left seminary in college. Bernard is very well liked by the people because he is so filled with empathy. Recently he has had several counseling sessions with Phyllis. At twen(y-five years The Addicted/Dependent Minister of age, Phyllis has finished two M.A. degrees--one in counseling and the other in theology. Phyllis is very angry with the Church about not being able to be a priest. During many sessions she has talked about how victimized she felt. Bernard shares her feelings; he has felt put off by the Church because he got married. Being ordained a deacon is okay, but he feels victimized also. Bernard and Phyllis are now in their sixth session. In counseling they talk about equal amounts of time on their feel-ings toward the Church. They both agree worship has become harder and harder. They feel they have been good for each other because they share so many of the same hurts. Bernard's homelife is healthy and functional; Phyllis is from a gifted and wealthy family that seems equally healthy. The cycle here is one of self-pity/co-pity. The theologies in these stories are issues, but not as much as the pain and hell these ministers are causing to others. The rocking-chair process addiction is not a matter of standing still; though moving, it is going no-where. All these ministers are gifted and likeable people. These depend-ency stories are more subtle than that of the staggering drunk pastor or the power-hungry director of religious education, but their subtlety serves as a reflection on the movement out of addiction/dependent be-havior. These stories show some common process dependencies, but there are many more. The addict wants to be happy and unconsciously creates a world of "happiness" in which to survive. There are dependency proc-esses not mentioned here peculiar to perhaps one person. The choices and combinations of dependencies are nearly infinite. Ministers are always in need of insight into themselves lest they run the risk of projecting their feelings and dependencies on the client. Minister on the Mend Ministers need to choose not rocking-chair but journey addictions. As they learn from and depend on healthy processes, they become peace-ful within and freer to hear the true struggles of Jesus. The healthy proc-esses that are most easily seen are to say no and to delegate. Both re-quire much tact and articulation if everyone is to remain free. Sometimes the ministry can more easily be done alone; often other factors enter-- such as community, collaboration, and identity--which should be con-sidered and pondered. In any case, ministry always means community. Three more models are listed earlier under the Healthy Process column. Each of these ends in letting go. A common slogan in twelve-step programs is "Let go--let God." Any healthy process will end in letting go. Jesus is clearly the model 844 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 here. To let go (presuming the preceding steps are gone through), much reflection and healthy prayer time is needed. Ministers need time to di-gest each experience. This includes some time alone and some quality dialogue with what is commonly called theological reflection. A good minister has the ability to stand still. The old statement that moved many a minister was "an idle mind is the devil's workshop." Well, the same idle mind is also God's workshop. Each minister holds the key to the workshop door. When one's whole being is idle, the minister is able to again open himself or herself to caring for others. This means that the minister is caring for himself or herself as the first one to be ministered to. Jesus the Dependent? Jesus was human like us in all ways but sin; yet he was dependent on a home for being raised, dependent on scrolls and on people for his learning, and dependent on the elements of survival like food, warmth, sleep, and friendship. The desert fast was Jesus pulling away from food and people to experience more. Jesus was definitely dependent on the human condition. "He emptied himself" as Philippians says; and yet, without abandoning his divinity, Jesus became enslaved to our human condition of dependency. He became all those things that take each of us to the threshold of addiction and dependency. Jesus became fear, doubt, loneliness, anxiety, and anger. These are not sins but feelings. It is in feelings that one touches the threshold of dependency. Jesus con-tinually emptying himself is the movement from addiction. He did not fill himself with any substance to extreme. Jesus chose his dependencies. From the gospels those chosen dependencies seem to be friendship, the (Jewish) word of God, prayer, and telling the story (parable) plus living the story. So Jesus' dependencies are on a deeply human level but always more. Jesus was empowered with the Spirit and worked miracles of heal-ing, but still had to experience emotional suffering and ultimately death. The addiction of power and control Jesus declined over and over. He did not want to be a king, a religious leader, or a political leader. He emp-tied himself; addicts try to fill themselves. Jesus holistically emptied him-self. Flesh and bones like us, he did not even overly depend on his hu-manity. He lived and believed in his human condition and more, Jesus has the same faith in us for he was one like us. Jesus was dependent on "one day at a time." This was living the model of the Father; for him being open and dependent upon the Father became a daily reality. The "daily bread" Jesus talks of is the daily por- The Addicted/Dependent Minister tion of human and divine needs. Childlike Jesus was dependent on the human condition. True addicts/dependents become blind and their world gets ever smaller. Jesus is not blind but tries to ever open us to the larger world that he called the "reign of God." Jesus is the model for the ad-dict in the way he lived the serenity prayer: "God, grant me the seren-ity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." Three Areas of Interdependence for the Minister 1. The minister in a support system A support system means to have a world of peers. Being able to talk honestly and needfully, the minister opens up, allowing himself or her-self to be the recipient of ministry. Ministry by its nature is a parent role. Therefore to be able to step out of that role into a peer relationship is crucial for wellness. To seek support ministers cannot deny or toy with their dependen-cies. They need to be able to say "I need," "I hurt," "I'm angry," and so forth. Even though these "confessions" need be made at times with clients, here it is a perspective of care for the minister. Here minis-ters make their addictions known in trust. Unhealthily dependent persons function under three unwritten rules: (1) Do not talk about the depend-ency; (2) do not trust anyone because in the long run they will hurt you; and (3) do not feel because feelings can only cause trouble or pain. With such a support system, ministers can appear arrogant or even pious. In a support system that offers freedom to talk and an environment of trust for articulation of feelings, ministers minister to themselves. Any aloof-ness starts to subside in the therapy of the support system. This is a form of interdependence. Interdependence is very difficult to accomplish because it must be scheduled on a regular basis and it must seek a quality rapport with one or more persons. So many relationships (addictions/dependencies) are codependent: "You fix me and I'll fix you." In interdependence the de-pendent lives "rent free" (as AA says) of guilt, manipulation, and shame. Once the dependency is named and claimed, some of the twelve-step programs might be appropriate. Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), nar-cotics anonymous (NA), sexaholics anonymous (SA), and adult children of alcoholics (ACOA) are support groups that meet regularly and are very good. For ministers with any of these addictions, weekly contact with the relevant group would be appropriate. Meeting less often than this is Review for Religious, November-December 1988 a form of denial to a given addiction. Other support systems like clinical counseling might be in order. See-ing a counselor can help one to look at addictive behavior. Again, a weekly meeting would be appropriate for the same reasons of denial. A spiritual director can also be helpful. It is important that the spiritual di-rector also be in spiritual direction. For the minister to ask for direction would be most helpful. If the spiritual director is not in direction, he or she is probably not conscious of personal dependencies in process ad-diction. Diocesan priests can have a support system in "Jesu Caritas" or "Emmaus" groups. The interdependence support area affords intimacy that is construc-tive and articulate. There must be a constant (weekly) point where min-isters are vulnerable, candid, and open. Ministers need intimacy more than most people; they need to have their own needs met. The more pas-toral responsibilities they have, the more difficult will be the problem of a support system that will work. Not finding such a system drives one right back into unhealthy dependency/addiction. This support system pre-sumes skills of great openness, and it demands qualified supporters who are themselves in touch with their own dependencies. God will be part of this because "where two or more are gathered, I am there"; this gath-ering of support will be the human condition laid open, and this sharing leads to the divine. Christianity itself is a support system not in theory only but in expe-rienced reality. To be Christian is to be community. Ministers model Christian living at its best as they acquire ministry to themselves. There will need to be many subcommunities like support groups within the sup-port system. For example, the substance-abuse minister may be in a "non-Christian" twelve-step program; still, the very dynamic is intrin-sically Christian by the fruits that are produced. The support system keeps (or even makes) the minister docile. Our Christian model of support is that the Master is always with us; no disci-ple ever becomes the master in Christianity. Christians are dependent on the Master. The minister lives this posture of the support system with a life of prayer. Prayer must be meditative and routine. Prayer must be daily. The minister will address Christ with "now I feel . . ." and be naked of all dependencies in his presence. 2. The Minister Using Humor as Healing Somewhere in the ritual of each day, the call to play must come. Just as "Let us pray" is ritualized, so must "let us play" be said and done. Ministers take themselves too seriously. To have a sense of humor is to The Addicted/Dependent Minister / 1~47 have a sense of healing. For some a sense of humor can get rough, laugh-ing at another's expense. Even if someone encourages being laughed at, discernment of the healing or hurting nature of humor is needed. Not all humor is healing. The virtue that comes with levity is gentleness. If ministers can laugh at themselves in a gentle and affectionate way, the humor is healing. So often caught in addiction/dependency, ministers may smile at their short-comings and say to themselves, "I'm not a saint yet," and move on with life. Humor does not mean telling jokes or developing talks (homilies) that are funny or entertaining. Humor simply brings us to reality away from our world of illusion. Substance and process addictions do produce a world of illusion. Just watching TV commercials shows us illusions, humor, and addiction. The problem with much in the media is that truth is not the main product being sold. Humor has truth at its core, and per-haps an exaggeration of that truth in humor can make a point of healing. An example of this might be telling a workaholic who is exhausted that you see no reason for him to sleep tonight: "I don't know why you can't work all night writing a major address for that group--you'd do it better than anyone else." Humor brings us to gentleness and reality; another quality is that of forgiveness. Sometimes in the healing of humor more forgiveness can take place than in more formal settings. A wink or kind facial expres-sion can be the forgiving gesture of gentleness that a given moment may need. Humor is a way of recycling the minister in a very healthy way. 3. The Minister and a Sense of Adventure This need of interdependence is seen more readily in retired minis-ters, but it needs to be present all along the journey of development. Min-isters in retirement can be the personifie~ wisdom of God even (or espe-cially) in their decrepit physical condition, or they can be Scrooge-like "humbug" people holding tightly to the past. The sense of adventure always is looking at the present and the future. Ministers can feel that "they owe me after all that I've done for them." Addicted ministers often will want to cause their own early retirement (or death). In aged ministers it is still the world of extremes if addiction is present. In a sense of adventure there is a sense of tomorrow. Ever changing by an open-ness to grace, ministers can keep looking forward to more in their life. The life of unhealthy addiction/dependency always seduces one to be-come fixated. In the interdependence of adventure, ministers respond to and embrace the limited world of themselves and the limited world of their environment. Using personal creativity, ministers can become eter- 1~41~ / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 nal students of life itself. Healthy ministers can be recognized here, with their level of interests always expanding. Self-improvement and educa-tion become an ever present sense of direction for them. They have a zest for life and a loving interest in others. Unhealthy ministers often scorn and condemn the life they see in healthy ministers. This can manifest it-self in competition or gossip or both. Ministers often live in their own professional world, a world no larger than the client's care and working for the community. "All work and no play makes John a dull boy." John is not only a dull minister but an addicted minister. There is a flatness and pity that emerge when the sense of adventure is not maintained on a regular level. Some say that a minister should always be reading a secular novel (and that does not necessarily mean of the Andrew Greeley variety). Friends and hobbies that have nothing to do with religion are excellent for the minister. The priests' poker club does not meet this need because "business" will al-ways creep into the conversation. Ministers can feel lost when not known in some place for who they are or what they are--this is a good chal-lenge to the minister. Ministers who are able to change through self-experimentation, self-denial, and self-ministry will find themselves flex-ible enough to grow in wisdom, age, and grace to the very point of death. Conclusion St. Augustine tells us that we are restless until we rest in God. There are many resting places on the journey of the minister that are anything but peaceful; these rest stops are often addictions. Satiated, confused, and disoriented, the minister quickly becomes less a minister than he or she would wish to be. These pages have looked at some cultural handi-caps in order to help ministers to be more free of them. Ministers living their faith are likely to feel some anxiety and insecurity. In a highly pos-session- oriented society that measures life by production and consump-tion, ministers become models of freedom by living a simple, unattached lifestyle. The "product" is freedom in Jesus himself. Thus, even though most ministers are addicted, they have a world of choice in their depend-encies. Those choices determine their personal happiness and effective-ness. Communal Spiritual Consolation John English, S.J. Many of our readers know at least some of Father English's writings on spirituality. In this article he discusses the significance of communal spiritual consolation for com-munal spirituality. He may be addressed at Ignatius College; P.O. Box 1238; Guelph, Ontario; N IH 6N6 Canada. The understanding and practice of spirituality has tended to focus on an individual person's experience and aspirations, but the individual needs to realize that spirituality is always in a communal context. If spiritual-ity focuses on the experiences the individual has in, through, and of com-munity, there is less danger of an individualistic spirituality. Consider the many examples in the Old Testament and the whole "Body of Chr

Issue 29.1 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDI.TORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Eilard. S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to R~wEw vog l~uG~ous; Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9xo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Provirice Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1970 by RZVzEw' FOR RELIOIOUS at 428 East Preston Str~:t; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class posta[~e paid at Baltimore, Maryland and ai addiuonal mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Suhscsiption U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, "$9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two yean. Orders should indicate whether they ah: for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to RFvu~w FOR RI~LIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions; wl~re ~ccom-padded by a remittance, should be sent to Rgv~zw ~OR RELIGIOUS; P. O. ~X 671; Baltimo~, Ma~land 21203. Chang~ of addr~, bu~ co~es~nd~ce, and ord~s not a~ ompa~ed a remittance should be g~Ltotous ; 428 East ~eston Ma~land 21202. Manu~ripts, ~itofial cor- ~s~ndence, and ~oks for r~iew should sent to REVIEW FOR gELIOIOUS; 612 Hum~ldt Building; 539 North Grand ~ul~ard; Saint ~uis, Mi~uri 63103. Qu~fions for answering should ~ the Qu~fio~ and ~we~ ~tor. JANUARY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 1 REVIEW FOR Volume 29 1970 EDITORIAL OFFIG'E 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimore, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOLIS is indexed in the Catholic Peri-odical Index land in Book Re-view Index. Microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS i8 available from University Mi-crofilms; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. GEORGE WILSON, S.J. Community. and Loneliness Not another article on communityl Haven't we all heard enough on that subject to last us through our next ten general chapters? Perhaps. But I hope the reader will excuse me if I muse a bit out loud on some questions in this area which I feel we have neglected in spite of the deluge of analyses, anathemas, and recipes to which we have been treated in recent years. The reflections which follow will have only the merest semblance of any order. I make no apology for this. It happens to represent for me the state of the issues, which recurrently bob to the surface of my consciousness like the flotsam from a variety of experiences with religious men and women over the past six years. It strikes me, incidentally, that flotsam may be a particularly apt word inasmuch as some of these experiences involved rather disastrous shipwrecks. We might make a good beginning by taking eight giant steps backwards to a typical religious community in the year 1962. (We now know that such a thing never existed, of course; beneath the surface each com-munity was really very different. In those idyllic days, however, we might very well have lived under such an illusion.) We heard about the Council---the typical first reaction was "I wonder why?"--so we prayed for the gentle rain of the Spirit. We prayed for the success of the Council more or less as we would have prayed for a Eucharistic congress. We prayed for rain and we were treated to a ty-phoon. And not least in the area of what we came to call "community." We might even have to remind our-selves now that the word "community" was hardly ever heard before the Council. And certainly if we used it at all, it was not with all the psychological baggage with which it is currently burdened. In those ÷ + George Wilson, $.J., teaches theol-ogy at Woodstock College in Wood-stock, Md. 21163. VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. George Wilson, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS days we might have spoken of "common life"--but that was such a different thing. I hope I will be for-given the whimsical reflection that in those days "com-mon life" was frequently used to engineer the rigidity which precisely destroys all life, whereas today our more likely mistake is to invoke "community" in order to perpetrate all the most bizarre diversities which haven't the foggiest connection with the people with ¯ whom we live. Lest this latter remark be misconstrued, let me .hasten to add that it is not in any way a plea for more togetherness. I suppose at this point I am just suggesting that we abandon the futile gesture of trying to baptize the many sensible, good, and apostolic things done by religious with the tag "community." If indeed they are sensible, good, and apostolically profitable, they will remain so even without the tag, as long as the religious lives up to his or her basic commitment to the group. At any rate, I think we would all admit that "com-munity" has taken on new burdens in the renewal years. The new factor consists in the conscious emphasis on personal enrichment of the life of the individual through the intimate sharing of life with similarly dedi-cated persons. This is not to suggest that religious life in previous decades did not bring rich personal satis-faction to the lives of many wonderful and wonder-fully human beings. It is one of the cruel illusions of some of our fiery reformers to think that they dis-covered the category of the personal--cruel to others because it seems to cast a shadow over the accomplish-ment of their great lives of service, but even more cruel to the reformers themselves because, being, an illusion, it prevents them from seeing precisely the beauty of lives lived for years at a steady, if less ro-matically intense, warmth. One is tempted to think of beams and motes and so forth. Be that as it may, the difference between then and today is not, I would submit, that between coldness and warmth, but rather between a then in which the warm personal successes and the cold impersonal failures were just lived, and a today, in; which they are consciously sought after (warm personal relationships) or consciously and ruthlessly knocked down (the merely functional, computerized, impersonal civilities). People were always warm (some) and cold (some) and they still are today (some of e~ch). Wheat and cockle and all that. It is just that we religious have as a group grown more reflective about how it happens; we have evolved a new set of forms which define and give contemporary expression to warmth and coldness (and we .are evolving even newer forms at a dizzy pace); and we are more consciously searching out the ways to increase the successes and minimize the failures in the process. All of which is good. Religious communities not only should be places in which the full development of human personal potential for life and love and happiness takes place, they should also be evidently such. Signs which don't communicate are worse than anomalies: they have the fateful chameleon capacity to become counter-signs. Let it be proclaimed once and for all: a man or woman giving his or her life to Christ in a religious society should find there the ac-ceptance and warmth and affection which any hu-man being has a right to look for in his commitment to any other person or group of persons. Unfortunately this still does not get us out of the woods. I say unfortunately, because I am afraid that many religious feel that the mere affirmation is enough by itself to answer all difficulties. To draw a bold caricature which probably never happened, I ~aave the recurring fantasy of a contemporary religious say-ing: "A religious community should be an intimate group of people who are in love with one another. I don't feel that way about any of the eight people I live with and I certainly know non~ of them feels that way about me. So this isn't a community, and I'm get-ting out of this farce." Put in such a starkly simplistic form, some of the ambiguities which lurk within our thinking about community are thrown into a new light and some finer honing of our questions is called for. What degree of intimacy can a person realistically hope for with eight people selected more or less at random by somebody who won't be living with them? Yes, the community should supply warmth and personal sup-pol: t--but just who is the community when I say that? Does the community commit itself to being my only source of deep personal relationships and human ful-fillment? Need it always and in every instance even be the primary source? Is it possible that by failing to face these questions we have created a thought pattern in which the individual religious is unwittingly taught to have entirely unrealistic expectations and then when these cannot be met he or she is compelled to seek their fulfillment elsewhere? It has been observed in the case of marriage that our current high divorce rate can be directly attributed to the fact that modern man's ex-pectations from marriage are, contrary to a superficial view, actually much higher than in the past; would the increasing rate of departures from religious life be say-ing the same thing about our expectations concerning it? I would not pretend to answer all of these difficult questions in the space of a brief article. But perhaps we + 4. + Loneliness VOLUME 29, 1970 5 + ÷ ÷ George Wilson, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 may move the dialogue along a bit by examining a couple of areas: (l) the people with whom I should expect to find "community" when I commit myself to Christ in a religious group, and (2) one of the false understandings of community under which we may have been unwittingly operating. First, to the people. The operating principle of many religious today would seem to be that I should be able to attain to deep intimacy with all the members of my local community or else it is all a sham. I will leave aside the question which the older religious, often quite legitimately, is frequently heard to ask, namely, what in the name of all that's holy do they mean by "deep intimacy"? My presumption for the moment is that the people in question are attempting to point to something real of which they have already had some experiential taste and which they do expect to find in religious life, however halting they may be in articulat-ing what they mean by it. In other words, I can also sympathize with their common response of "if you don't even sense what I'm talking about, that's even sadder than the fact that we don't have it here." At this point the meaning of "deep intimacy" is not my con-cern. But leaving it descriptively for the moment at the level of a vague but real experience whose presence or lack can be grasped by any sensitive human being, my question is rather: With whom should I reasonably expect to achieve it? There is a "tradition" (of very recent vintage, I sus-pect) which would be shocked that the question is even raised, since sell-evidently this kind of relationship has to be achieved with one's local community. To which my question in return would be: is it all that self-evident? I ought to find a~ceptance and warmth and affection in the community of people to whom I have committed myself, but does this lead me realistically to expect a relationship of deep intimacy with the eight members of my local community? At about this point in the dialogue it is not unlikely that someone will be thinking: "But just look at the community of our first foundersl They had this kind of deep relationship, but we've lost it." The comparison is frequently made and I would like to suggest that it masks a fateful equivocation. To use the word "com-munity" to describe a handful of people who freely and individually sought each other out through a proc-ess of long personal contact and testing, and then to make this a model for one's expectations when one is assigned to a random collection of eight individuals out of a 500-man (or 35,000-man) congregation to which I commit mysel/-~this is surely courting intellectual con- fusion and psychological disaster. The founding group had a sense of community and generally very intimate relationships. (Would one seem too cynical if one were to suggest that we have probably romanticized even the latter element? A sober reading of our early histories would suggest that for all their vision and charisma our founders generally had to be very hard-headed, down-to-earth wrestlers in order to. survive the fierce opposition which their vision generated.) The fact that they had both these elements in one integrated, lived way should not make us forget that they are two different things. Perhaps a parallel drawn from a related area may be of some assistance here. The movement known as the Teams of Our Lady (or by its original French title, Equipes-Notre Dame) consists of married couples who are established into communities of six couples each. It is important to note that the couples do not as a rule choose the other couples with whom they will de-velop as a team; the leadership of the movement usually gathers them on the basis of factors such as geographical proximity and so forth. The goal of the team is to help one another grow in holiness, which involves assisting each couple to find the ways to express love in the various situations into which their marriage and family life call them. The forms and practices of the spiritual life vary from couple to couple. The role of the other couples in the team is to foster the individual couple's unique growth, not to dictate a particular recipe for conjugal sanctity. The point of the parallel is that the testimony of the couples in the movement reveals that they have discovered experientially the distinction be-tween a successful team and what they call a "cozy team." A given team which is functioning well may gradually develop also into a cozy group; the couples and their children may begin to socialize apart from the explicit team structure, they may begin to gravitate to-ward other team couples in deep friendship. Or they may not. The point is that couples find that this factor is not essential to the success of a team. Teams can reach great depths of spiritual sharing and mutual assistance and growth without a great deal of socializ-ing or what one might call camaraderie. Indeed there are teams whose rating on the latter scale is very high but in which nothing of significance with regard to the goal of the movement is happening. It will be instantly objected that the supposed paral-lel is fallacious because of course these couples already have their primary needs for intimacy satisfied else-where, prior to entry into a team. The objection has some merit; certainly the parallel limps. On the other hand, it would be a bit cavalier to dismiss it out of + 4, VOLUME 29, 1970 4. 4. 4. George Wilson, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 hand simply on those grounds. We must face the fact that when we admit the inadequacies of the parallel we are not thereby justified in ignoring the facets in which it does touch home in spite of its hobbling gait. Nor--more importantly--may we thereby surrepti-. tiously insert the assumption that the religious must of course find his or her admitted needs for intimacy satis-fied within the local cgmmunity. Despite the weak-nesses of the parallel I submit that this notion remains at this point in the case exactly that, just an assump-tion. What are we to say of its value? It occurs to me that we might make a better assessment of it if we pose some specific situations for ourselves. Suppose that a given sister or brother or priest, were to discover that he or she finds it much more pleasant to be with, say, a member of the lay faculty or some parishioner or fellow nurse than with members of the local community. A deep and rich friendship has evolved through sharing important experiences together. There may be several such relationships. The religious may honestly face the fact that he shares a deeper level of friendship with people beyond the community than with those inside ~t. Should this be a disturbing discovery? Should it lead to the conclusion that this religious group ~is only a hollow facade and that honesty dictates a resignation from the group? My own personal answer would have to be negative. If I might take a stab at describing the stages of the re-cent development of community life styles, I would suggest that it has proceeded along the following lines: (1) the "lived" stage mentioned above. There were de facto some rich friendships in religious communities. There was also an explicit doctrine which inculcated fear of any human warmth. The healthy were always able to put this doctrine in psychological brackets and go on about the business of living, which is to say, trying to be human. The less healthy were more crippled by the tradition or, as a perhaps harsher judgment would have it, allowed themselves to be crippled by it. At this stage relationships outside the community were the ultimate no-no. (2) The explicit doctrine was gradually battered down by the new openness to in-sights from the human sciences, if it did not simply crumble from the weight of its own unreality. Friend-ship, warmth, openness became values to be consciously striven after. Rather ironically we rediscovered that fusty old English word "Thou~' (as .in "I-hyphen- Thou"; but never in hymns, pleasel) and eyeball-to-eyeball became the image of the day. But this was all to be within the community--it is no accident that our word "pagan" has as one of its earliest meanings simply "an outsider." And although the explicit doctrine of suspicion of friendship was finished, an unwritten tradition had evolved very quickly, according to which the community where friendship had to be discovered was the local community. In the meantime a third step was taking place, one which deserves a separate paragraph because it repre-sents the present for many religious. Having been con-sciously opened to the value of the human, they discovered that it existed outside the religious group as well. They inevitably began to experience the rise of friendships with persons outside the group. In some communities the explicit tradition quickly adjusted to this new fact by seeing it as a natural consequence of openness to personal relationship and accepted it as a good thing; in others the notion has had a more bumpy ride. For all, the -~ituation became more tense when father or brother or sister found that there were many more inviting people outside than in. The new tradition has created an intolerable bind for many. They are being told in effect (1) that every human being needs some deeply fulfilling human re-lationships, (2) that these should not be fostered out-side the community, or at least (3) that even if outside relationships are acceptable one should be able to reach that same level of intimacy with those religious with whom one happens to live as a result of the need for a teacher of remedial reading---a placement deter-mined by someone who in all probability will not be sharing the local community situation. At this juncture I am not. sure whether I have more .to fear from my. friends than my attackers. I can imagine one group hailing me because I have shown that they were right all along, that all this deep relationship business was exaggerated and all we really have to do to have .community is to be civil. (Sometimes things get so bad in dealing with this mentality that one is almost tempted to agree and settle for that, but civility seems to be one of those things you cannot have all by itself; either we aie going forward to love and warmth or else we are soon back in the cold jungle.) A group .on the opposite side is saying: "Of course that's not what he means. What he's clearly shown is that the only solution is to let everyone choose his or her own local group. Then we' can reduplicate the intimacy of our founding fathers." A third group is made up of the poor harried school,supervisors and provincials, and they are probably muttering in the corner that I have leveled another juvenile a.ttack against that old straw man, the im-personal bureaucratic sturcture, when they have had ÷ 4. ÷ ÷ ÷ 4. George Wilson, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]0 their insides torn out trying to respect the personal needs of individuals in the face of important com-munity commitments. Which means it is time for fixing our position. I am not going back on my stand affirming the importance of warm and deep human relationships for all human beings and therefore for all religious. Nor on the other hand am I convinced that a group of people which has a job to do can simply let its members form all its subgroups on the basis of free association untram-meled by the facts of broader common commitments. And I have the greatest sympathy for those in the com-munity who have the difficult task of reconciling per-sons, pegs, and holes; their service, far from being mere bureaucracy, is generally one of the most excruciatingly personal ones in the whole community. No, our solution lies neither in shrinking back from personal relationships nor in totally free association. I would suggest that the sources for an answer are in two places: in the broader pool of the larger religious community and in the open personal concourse of religious with the outside world they serve. A religious need not feel especially troubled on discovering that there are no close personal friends among those with whom he or she happens to live, provided that some-where in the larger religious group there are those with whom such a relationship exists. And the com-munity should foster the normal means by which such relationships can flourish and grow: the chance to choose vacation partners, freedom to visit and recreate to-gether without the other members of each one's local community feeling slighted, trips within reason (proportioned by the same responsible norms which two lay friends might have to use in making such a decision, such as available funds, other commitments, and so forth). Beyond the incarnated friendships of those in different local communities warm relationships with other men and women outside the community should be expected to arise, be fostered when they do, and be given the normal modes of expression which suit such relationships (if sister has to be home by midnight on a particular occasion, it is not because she is sister but because she is an adult human being with a responsibil-ity to perform as an adult the next morning--and that is something she should be free to discover for her-self by trial and, alas, error). In this way we can ease the impossible demand which has been placed on the local community by the tradition of unreasonable ex-pectations. We will of course still have to be open to growth in the depth of our relationships in the local community. We will have to be on our guard lest the needs of more withdrawn members of the local group go unattended. But paradoxically, it is just possible that we may be better able to meet these basic demands of love on the local scene if we do not expect that scene to fulfill all our human personality needs. All of this might become more acceptable doctrine if we were to examine the normal patterns of mature and healthy individuals-in-community. It is quite natural for the mature adult in our society to func-tion within a wide diversity of social circles simul-taneously, to have his own needs met and to meet the needs of others in a variety of ways and on different levels. This is true even of that most intimate of com-munities constituted by the one-to-one relationship of marriage. The husband lives on one level with his wife, on another in his field of occupation, on still another with a few very close male friends (with whom his wife may or may not be on such close terms), on another with more casual social acquaintances; he may even have a select group with whom his only contact may be a weekly game of handball. The wife's circles will be analogous; in some instances they may range more broadly than his, as for example in the parish or neighborhood. At times their circles will coincide, at times not. They will strive to enlarge the areas they share (which may not necessarily mean that they do the things together; they learn to enrich each other by sharing what they have done separately). But one thing is sure: they know that if they demand even of this re-lationship that it satisfy all their personal needs for intimacy, it will become involuted and shrivel up and die. It is true of the couple; it is true of the family on a different level; and it is true of the individuals in a given local religious community. If we are supposing, then, that a particular religious will not have any really close friend within the group with whom he or she must share years of human life and work, are we not exposing the religious to a frightening risk of loneliness? This very real question brings us to the second area in which it was suggested that we might clarify our thinking, namely, a false understanding of community which may unwittingly be causing a lot of unhealthy departures from religious life. Actually it is really a false understanding of loneli-ness rather than immediately one of community which is at issue; but on a given level these are really correla-tive notions, and our understanding of the meaning of loneliness has its impact on our expectations from com-munity life. The issue was brought home most force-fully to me in a response by Thomas Merton to an ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 ]! George Wilson, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ']2 interviewer's question, as reported in Motive for Octo-ber,. 1967. The interviewer touched on the issue of celibacy and solitude; and Merton's answer read in part: I think I can say I have experienced levels of loneliness that most people do not allow themselves consciously to admit. From a certain point of view I can say bluntly that to exist as a man without relating to one particular woman-and-person who is "my love," is quite simply a kind of death. But I have enough experience of human love to realize, too, that even within the best of relationships between man and woman this loneliness and death are also terribly present. There are mo-ments in human love in which loneliness is completely tran-scended, but these are brief and deceptive, and they can point 9nly to the further and more difficult place where, ultimately, two lonely and helpless persons elect to save one another from absurdity by being absurd together--and for life (pp. 36-7). This explicitation of the fact that there is a certain kind of loneliness experienced within the most intimate of unions and even in its peak moments can be of in-valuable assistance in clarifying our expectations from religious life in community. Whether we consciously admit it to ourselves or not, we.do tend to interpret the meaning and value of various human experiences by comparing them with expectations from other ways of life. This is a perfectly human process, for man is, after all, a prudential being. But the worth of the process depends on the realism with which we view the two situations. It is my convic-tion that a number of religious have made the decision to leave, religious life on the unhealthy basis of a judgment that the loneliness of religious life would be assuaged by the relationships available in lay, and particularly married, life. It is important to be dear 0n what is being asserted here. It should be evident that there is no criticism of these people intended, and certainly not a condemnation. Nor is there any at-tempt to dispute their assessment that indeed for them life with this particular religious group had become intolerable due to the type of loneliness they actually experienced. What is at issue is the use of a principle according to which religious life itself would involve a loneliness that is unique to it and would therefore be ".solved" by departure from it. This is, I believe, an unreal assumption and any decision based on it is un-healthy because unreal. Clark,Moustakas has written a precious gem of a book .which .should be required reading for all religious in formation. Entitled simply Loneliness (Prentice-Hall ';Spectrum". :paperback), the brief work makes a valuable contribution to our discussion from two points of view. Moustakas first alerts us to the fact that the one word "loneliness" can actually cover two distinct reali-ties. One consists in the experiencing of my fundamental human uniqueness, separateness, and inalienable re-sponsibility for myself and my decisions, and actions. No one can stand in my shoes, no one can do "my thing." This quality of genuinely human experience, which Moustakas .calls existential loneliness, is quite simply a part of being human: Loneliness is as much organic to human existence as the blood is to the heart.~ It is a dimension of human life whether existential, sociologidal, or psychological; whatever its deriva-tives or forms, whatever its history, it is a reality of life. Its fear, evasion, denial, !and the accompanying attempts to escape 'the experience of being lonely will forever isolate the person from his own existerlce, will' afflict and separate him from his own resources so thht there is no development, no creative emergence, no growth in awareness, perceptiveness, sensitivity. If the individual does not exercise his loneliness, one signifi-cant capacity and dimension of being hum~in remains unde-veloped, denied (pp2 When we allow ,ourselves to experience this reality in all its dimensions; we discover that is, is a gomplex phenomenon which includes both the painful acknowl-edgment of our igclination to evade responsibili.ty by leaning on someone else as well as the exhilarating discovery of the Ipower of our deepest self and its capacify for respo.hsible accomplishment.-This kind of loneliness, which belongs to every adult's life, has to be distinguished from ~inottier reality which is call'dd by the same name but is really the anxious fear. of being left alone. Moustakas calls this latter loneliness anxiety: Loneliness anxiety results from a fundamental breach be-tween what one island what one pretends to be, a basic alienation between man and man and between man and his nature (p. 24). Modern man is ;plagued with the vague, diffuse fear of loneliness. He goesI to endless measures, takes devious and circuitous pathways] to avoid facing the experience of being lonely. Perhaps the !loneliness of a" meaningless existence, the absence of values, convictions, beliefs, and fear of isolation are the most terribl~ kind of loneliness anxiety (pp. 26-7). The fact that. twqt.very different realities can go by the same name g~ves r, lse to the question: When a religious laments the loneliness of the religious group and de-cides to resolve ~he tension by separating from the community, tehic~ lcind oI loneliness is he or she at-tempting to resolve? Please note that I am not trying to answer the ques-tion in any particular case. It may very well be that the .individual may have wakened to the very valid realiza-tion 'that life in this particular group does involve such a measure of pretense, superficiality, and meaningless Loneliness VOLUME 29, 1970 George Wilson, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]4 forms that he or she is in danger o~ total self-estrange-ment. When there is the concomitant realization that the individual is impotent to do anything about this destructive communal pattern, it may be the better part of valor to shake the dust of this group from one's shoes. (What one in such a case makes of his personal commitment to serve God as a celibate-- which need not be in this community--is a broader question whid~ would take us beyond the scope of this article.) On the other hand, there is the possibility that a person may be unwittingly seeking to evade the existential loneliness which he just happens to be ex-periencing more painfully now than at previous stages of his growth; and this would of course be an impossible quest. This kind of loneliness is just part and parcel of being human; and no change from one community to another, even if the latter is the community of marriage, will change that fact. It might seem that all of this leaves us with a de-pressing prospect: we are going to be lonely come what may. Here Moustakas' second contribution opens vistas unsuspected by the togetherness generation, for he re-minds us of the positive value of the experience of loneliness. Loneliness is a condition of existence which leads to deeper perception, greater awareness and sensitivity, and insights into one's own being. New images, symbols, and ideas spring from the lonely path. The man living his life, accepting all signifi-cant dimensions of human existence is often a tragic man but he is a man who loves life dearly. And out of the pain or loss, the bitter ecstasy of brief knowing and having, comes the glory of a single moment and the creation of a song for joy. In creative loneliness there is an element of separation, of being utterly alone, but there is also a strange kind of related-ness-- to nature and to other persons and through these ex-periences, a relatedness to life itself, to inspiration, wisdom, beauty, simplicity, value. A sense of isolation and solitude is experienced, but a relatedness to the universe is maintained. Only through fundamental relatedness can the individual de-velop his own identity. The individual's loneliness is an ex-perience in growing which leads to differentiation of self. The person's identity comes into relief as he breathes his own spirit into everything he touches, as he relates significantly and openly with others and with the universe. Without any deep and growing roots in the soil of loneli-ness, the individual moves in accordance with external signals. He does not know his place in the world, his position, where he is or who he is. He has lost touch with his own nature, his own spontaneity (p. 50). Paradoxically it is only in the creative experience of our aloneness that we can come to realize the gift which we alone can bring in relatedness to those we love. It is true that only the love of another opens us up to the acceptance of our own worth (a point which must be emphasized to complete the picture, necessarily limited by Moustakas' perspective); but it remains true that the actual experiencing of our unique worth is our own act, one which inevitably isolates us even from the lover who stands outside en-couraging us to seize our own goodness and value, to create our true self: In actualizing one's self, one's aspirations, ideals, and inter-ests, it is often necessary to retreat from the world. One must have strength enough to withstand the temptations which arise when one is completely alone. This does not mean becoming uprooted or alienated. It means accej~ting the existential na-ture of man's loneliness and seeing Its value in the creation of being, in the emergence of self-identity, and in a more fundamental, genuine life. Cast in this light, loneliness be-comes an illuminating experience and it leads to greater heights (p. 50). The Christian should be the first to recognize the deep truth in this phenomenological description. Is it not simply another of the myriad rich forms in which the paschal mystery presents itself? All genuine life is life-through-death. In proclaiming His way Christ was also disclosing the inmost law of human life. The freedom of vocation is not the freedom to evade this law, but the freedom to choose where we will experience it. We may be alone within a religious group or alone alongside a marriage partner or simply alone in the midst of the human crowd. But alone we shall be. Whether this death of aloneness becomes the resurrec-tion of love and relationship is the real issue. That will depend in any case on our willingness to accept the loneliness and in the acceptance to be raised beyond ourselves: Loneliness is as much a reality of life as night and rain and thunder, and it can be lived creativ~ely, as any other experience. So I say, let there be loneliness, for where there is loneliness there is also sensitivity, and where there is sensitivity, there is awareness and recognition and promise. Being lonely and being relatedare dimensions of an organic whole, both necessary to the growth of individuality and to the deepening value and enrichment of friendship. Let there be loneliness, for where there is loneliness, there also is love, and where there is suffering, there also is joy (p. 103). We all need acceptance and warmth and intimacy. Our religious group should at least make it possible for us to achieve it or else it is not a community at all, much less a Christian one. But the group can no more supply for the painful task of passing through the loneliness of self-acceptance, which is the price of self-transcendence, than could any marriage partner. That cup, and that privilege, is ours. Except that by an awesome mystery Christ has also made it His. + 4- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 ]5 GERALD~A. McCOOL, S.J. Commitment to One's Institute: A Contemporary Q estion Gerald McCool, S.J., is visiting asso-ciate professor of philosophy at Bos-ton College; Chest-nut Hill, Massa-cusetts 02167. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 The* question whether his institute as it concretely exists retains its right to bind his conscience is no longer a rhetorical one in the mind of many a religious subject. Directors of conscience who have been con-fronted with this question by religious of diverse ages in many different congregations are aware of this fact. They are also aware of their own increasing difficulty in finding satisfactory answers to the problems posed to them by religious concerning the nature, extent, and duration of the commitment to a concrete religious institute which even perpetual vows entail today. The origin of these problems is in part sociological. In-stitutes have changed radically in the past few years, and the rate of change has been uneven. Different groups in the same congregation look on the Church, the world, and religious institutes quite differently and entertain what seem at times irreconcilably diverse hopes for their future. Communal agreement is hard come by, and the unity in life and work which in the past contributed to a religious' sense of peace and se-curity no longer manifests itself on the empirical level. Naturally directors of conscience are not ignorant of the efforts being made by almost every institute to reach agreement on their basic religious and apostolic goals. They have learned during the past few years the im- * This article is a revision of a paper presented at the Seventh Biennial Institute in Pastoral Psychology, held at Fordham Uni-versity, June 16-20, 1969. In its present form it is focused more sharply on the current problem of commitment to one's own institute. The original paper, entitled "The Conscience of the Religious Subject," will appear in the forthcoming volume, Con-science: Its Freedom and Limitations ed. William G. Bier, S.J. (New York: Fordham University, 1970). portance of urging patience and charity on religious of all ages and persuasions. As defection rates increase, however, and morale problems become more grave, even in institutes which are going through the process of renewal, directors are becoming painfully conscious that much more is needed than exhortations to faith and supernatural hope in the future. Too many religious are beginning to question the assumption which under-lies such exhortations--the connection between God's personal call to them and their commitment to their institute. A genuine doubt 'is ~growing in their mind as to whether total commitment to their institute in the traditional sense is the more perfect form of Christian life today. Some may ask indeed whether the form of life led in their institute as it is, or promises to be in the immediate future, represents a truly moral way of living. These questions, of course, have been raised in the past. They recur at every period of trouble, re-newal, and reform in the Church and in religious life.1 That they should recur again today is in itself a cause for neither surprise nor disturbance. What is troubling, however, is the discovery on the part of religious and their directors that trenchant answers to them are so difficult to find. The New Situation in Religious Lile This inability to find a clear and persuasive answer to the contemporary difficulties concerning a religious' commitment to his institute does not come from simple failure of nerve, unimaginitive rigidity, or impatience at the rate of change, although these factors are opera-tive in the present crisis in religious life. It is rather the resultant vector of two forces whose interplay has still to be examined with sufficient care and penetra-tion: (1) the effect of institutional change on a subject's commitment to his institute in a period of open ended ecclesial evolution and (2) the powerful impact upon religious life of the theological pluralism which now exists, and will in all likelihood continue to exist, within the contemporary Church. The interplay of these two forces has created a new situation in religious life in which it is no longer possible for the individual re-ligious subject or his director to determine the nature, value, and obligation of his commitment to his in-stitute and to his fellow religious through a simple x St. Thomas replied to d~fficulties of this sort in his Summa contra Gentiles, III, 130-8. Suarez produced a similar defense at the time of the Counter-Reformation; see William Humphrey, Fran-cisco Suarez: The Religious State. A Digest o] the Doctrine Con-tained in His Treatise "De statu religionis'" (London: Burns and Oates, 1884). Commitment VOLUME 29, 1970 ]7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 application to his individual situation of the theology of the religious life which carried religious safely through the early years of the post-Vatican renewal.2 The existential development of religious life and the rapid evolution of theology have confronted the individual religious with a problem of conscience with which they cannot cope alone. The individual religious and his director require the aid of theologians and the help of their own institutes. And they will receive that help only if firstly institutes and theologians together accept the fact that the early post-Vatican period is over and that a new religious and theological situation is in existence now, and if secondly the institutes, with the careful help of theologians, make clear and definite decisions about their life and work based on an in-telligent commitment to a theology of the religious life which they accept. In the early years of post-Vatican renewal, the director of conscience found in the post-conciliar theology of the religious life a clear grounding of the supernatural value of the life of the counsels and an exposition of the relation of institutional structure to personal vocation. With their help he was able to work out a ~ For the influence of process thought on Catholic philosophy, see Leslie Dewart, The Future o] Belie] (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966) and the stimulating and provocative article of Eugene Fonti-helle, "Religious Truth in a Relational and Processive World," Cross Currents, v. 18 (1967), pp. 283-315. Its influence upon highly respected theologians can be seen in three important articles which appeared recently: Wilhelm Kasper, "Geschichtlichkeit der Dogmen," Stimmen tier Zeit, v. 179 (1967), pp. 401-16; Avery Dulles, "Dogma as an Ecumenical Problem," Theological Studies, v. 29 (1968), 397- 416; and George Vass, "On the Historical Structure of Christian Truth," Heythrop Journal, v. 9 (1968). For the newer approach in moral theology which will affect religious life, see George Curran, Christian Morality Today (Notre Dame: Fides, 1966) and Absolutes in Moral Theology (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). The Catholic theologian whose name is closely associated with the new theology of hope, esehatology, and earthly realities strongly influenced by the independent Marxist philosopher, Ernst Bloch, is Johannes B. Metz; see his Theology o] the World (New York: Herder and Her-der, 1967). These books and articles are simply a random sample of recent publications by serious and influential writers. There is no doubt that we are in a period of rapid and profound theological development. We must realize, however, that the process epistemol-ogy and metaphysics which are winning increasing favor with serious Catholic theologians does not simply call into question the philosophical grounding of the traditional Christian wisdom spir-ituality associated with the names of Augustine, Bonaventure, and Thomas, which underlies so many classics of the spiritual life; it also challenges the epistemological and metaphysical foundations of some of the most influential post-Vatican theology of the religious life, notably that of Karl Rahner. Ignorance of ~his fact can cause woe to an unwary retreat director, especially in communities of younger religious. It can also be a source of trouble for congrega-tions which are rewriting their constitutions. satisfactory understanding of the mutual obligations of subject and institute with which he could handle per-sonal problems of commitment in congregations as they then existed. This theology also enabled him to cope with the personal problems of the early post-conciliar years when many congregations dragged their feet in implementing the Vatican II reforms. It proved a rea-sonably satisfactory instrument for solving the prob-lems of individual religious in the later and more dif-ficult period of communal involvement in renewal in which community division with its consequent fear and hostility became a problem for many institutes. If we simply review the history of those stages in the evolution of religious life we may be able to see why the re-ligious and his director were able to deal with the question of religious commitment as an individual prob-lem then and why it is that today they are no longer able to do so. Post-Vatican Theology: Nature and Value o] Reli-gious Life Post-conciliar theology defended the value of the counsels as an integral part of the Church's eschatologi-cal witness and indicated the role which religious in-stitutions play as visible signs of her holiness,s In doing so it clarified the reasons which justify the renunciation of fundamental human goods through the three vows. It also explained the ecdesial basis for the authorita-tive specification of the religious life in institutes in which a life of rule is lived under the direction of re-ligious superiors. Religious belong to what Karl Rahner has called the charismatic element in the Church. Their conviction that God has called them to follow Christ in the re-ligious life is based on a non-formal process of in-ference which Saint Ignatius has called the discern-ment of spirits. Their decision to follow the divine invitation is freely taken. "Its motive is growth in the service of God and their neighbor and in the intimate union with God which Christian writers from patristic times have called holiness. The renunciation of earthly goods which the vows entail is justified because it is the manifestation of the Church's eschatological faith and hope. Through this renunciation religious institutes give living public witness to the Church's certitude that life's significance does not rest exclusively on the encounter with God in the use of His creation but on the lived 8See Karl Rahner, Theological Investigations, v. 3 (Baltimore: Helicon), pp. 58-104 and SchriIten zur Theologie:. v. 7 (Einsiedeln: Benziger, 1966), pp. 404-79. See also Ladislas M. Orsy, Open to the Spirit (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). ÷ ÷ ÷ Con~mltraent VOLUME 29, 1970 19 4, Gerald A. McCooi, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0 hope of an encounter beyond the limits of space and time.4 A religious community in the visible Church is a response to a common charismatic call in which its members participate and which is the supernatural bond of their union. Since that call is given in the Church as a summons to give stable social witness to her holiness and hope, communal life of the counsels acquires visible form in the diverse religious institutes. Thus the interior charism unique to each institute finds the external expression through which it can be thema-tized and communicated; and the interior bond of charity which binds its members to God, to the Church, and to each other receives verbal expression in its con-stitutions.~ Consequently religious vows are not taken in vacuo. They are always taken in a specific institute whose constitutions thematize the charismatic vocation to which each religious commits himself. Through her approval of the constitutions the visible Church commits her-self to the religious as authentic witnesses of her life and hope. On the basis of this theological justification of the nature and value of the religious life, the religious sub-ject at the beginning o[ the post-Vatican renewal was able to set down some general principles for the forma-tion o[ his conscience in relation to his commitment to his institute and to the legitimate demands on him which followed from it. (1) His decision to follow the religious life is morally justified through its public eschatological witness and through its service to God in the life of His Church. Its nature is distorted and its moral value compromised if it degenerates into an irresponsible flight from par-ticipation in the world through fear or dislike of God's creation. From the theology of the free person in the Church it follows that an individual call to manifest her sanctity through the public witness of the counsels should come in every generation to a number of generous Christians. Not only may Christians be religious, some of them should be. (2) Although the constitutions of a religious institute are not identified with its common charismatic call, its inner spirit, and its internal bond of charity, the con-stitutions cannot be separated from them either--a fact * Rahner, Schrilten, v. 7, pp. 404-34. r We notice here the strong similarity between the relation established by Rahner in his spiritual theology between institutional structure and charismatic call and the relation established by St. Ignatius between religious rule and the interior law of charity in the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. which Saint Ignatius saw most dearly. The constitutions of an institute are not purely juridical regulations with little or no relation to its interior spirit. They are the medium through which the religious vows can specify and maintain a perduring commitment to a common way of life. Consequently, superiors, in fidelity to God and to the Church, have an obligation to see that they are observed. For, if a way of life is allowed to grow up within an institute which is at variance with the specific manifestation of the. Church's holiness which it has been called to manifest, that institute has lost the supernatural justification for its existence. Thus com-plete freedom to follow individual decisions cannot be permitted to a subject in a religious institute. A Christian called to religious life is called to accept a limitation on his freedom through obedience to his institute and its superiors. ($) Furthermore, since he shares in a common charismatic call which is incorporated in a specific in-stitute, indications of the divine will should ordinarily come to him through his institute and its superiors. Although there can be legitimate conflict at times, it is hard to reconcile a religious vocation with the convic-tion that the subject must make every important decision on his own responsibility and that the moral authority of a religious superior is restricted to his right to offer counsel. As one religious order recently expressed it: "A man who, time after time, is unable to obey with good consdence, should take thought regarding some other path of life in which he can serve God with greater tranquility." 6 The theology of the religious life which flourished after the Council not only gave the religious subject a dearer picture of the nature and value of the religious life than he had previously possessed; it also provided him with the principles through which a number of the problems arising from the conflict between obedi-ence and his moral conscience could find an answer. A proper understanding of the theology of the religious life made it clear not only that the constitutions of an insitute specified the obligation of the subject but that they also specified and restricted the legitimate authority of his superior. Superiors may rule only in accordance with the constitutions; and, in an institute whose reason for existence is to manifest the Church's sanctity and supernatural hope, they must rule religiously. Through his vows the subject has acquired a claim upon the conscience of his superior. For he has received a per-sonal call from God to a life of individual witness and Society of Jesus, Documents of the Thirty.First General Congre-gation (Woodstock, Md.: Woodstock College, 1967), p. 55. 4. Commitment VOLUME. 29, 1970 21 + 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS service within a specific community. Not all of the de-mands which God makes on him can be determined by following uncritically in a quasi-automatic way the gen-eral orders of superiors. A number must be determined in-dividually by the discernment of spirits. Since the subject's vocation has been entrusted to his institute, he has the right to the personal direction and understanding of his superior in his efforts to discover God's personal will for him. The superior in turn has the inescapable obligation to provide it, and to provide it as a religious superior and not as the director of a secular enterprise. Further-more, a religious institute is a community of free in-dividuals within a visible Church to which they have a definite responsibility. God will inspire them through thoughts and desires to move their institute to greater service to His Mystical Body. As they are bound to communicate these thoughts and desires to their superiors, superiors, because of their responsibility to their institute and to the Church, are bound to listen to their subjects and to consult them individually and collectively. The "Relectant'" Stage oI Post-Vatican Renewal In the period immediately after Vatican II these principles were not the commonplaces they have long since become. Older religious can still recall the thrill of their discovery through personal reading or through the conferences of retreat masters. Government at that time often left much to be desired in many a religious institute. Superiors, who were at times quite ignorant of the theology of the religious life, ruled impersonally and on occasion gave the impression of a political mode of action which did not show the proper regard for the rights of the subject and the true interests of the universal Church. The problems of conscience which this mode of government created for intelligent, sensitive, and far-seeing religious are too well known to call for repetition here3 Nonetheless the informed religious subject or his di-rector felt that they could chart a reasonably clear course of action through which a subject could fulfill his personal call to genuine Christian life and activity in true commitment to his institute. Most of .the problems of that time, after all, were simply the result of a subject's living in an institute whose life and government were not in accord with the approved theology of the religious life. Subjects who were equipped to do so would work for the reform of their 7 For a well documented and frank account of these problems, see Robert W. Gleason, The Restless Religiou~ (Dayton: Pflaum, 1968). institutes through personal action. Others, while wait-ing [or the coming reform of their institute, could fre-quently solve their problems by using the principles of traditional moral theology concerning the reaction of a subject to an unjust command. Difficult as this period was psychologically, it was not a period in which the religious subject necessarily felt discouragement about the ability of the approved theology of the religious life to solve his present problems and bring about the eventual renewal of his institute. The Period o[ Rapid Evolution and Renewal After this initial period of hesitation and resistance, religious institutes entered into the general movement of renewal and reform to which each congregation was asked to contribute through a revision of its consti-tutions. As it proceeded, that task proved more diffi-cult than most religious anticipated that it would be. It was at that period that the beginnings of the present question of the commitment of the religious to his institute began to manifest itself. Once a movement of evolution and reform gets under way, commitment to the existing constitutions of an institute becomes provisional. It is---or was--assumed that in their re-vised form they will be a more exact expression of the present charismatic call which God is now addressing to the institute. Yet, since the constitutions specify the common commitment of the subjects to the insti-tute and to each other, their sudden mobility, after a long period of stability, has affected the bond of union in the evolving communities. Problems now arise in the conscience of the religious concerning his relation to his community and his fellow religious which were not there before. When the post-Vatican reform began it was rather generally agreed that the period of communal discern-ment of spirits would reach its consummation in a renewed institute to whose revised constitutions the individual subjects could commit themselves with peace of soul. But in a changing world and in a changing Church, who can say when the period of evolution will come to an even relative rest? And now that we are learning to think of God and His revelation in terms of process and event rather than of substance and stable judgment, can we any longer feel that stable constitu-tions are any longer desirable or even possible? Does not that make any set of constitutions provisory and relative? Furthermore, discernment of spirits is not an automatic process whose success is guaranteed. It is a delicate work of grace. Human resistance, weakness, and obtuseness can prevent it or delay it until the 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 4" "4" Gerald A. McCool, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "~4 kairos, the providential time allowed by God, has passed. Religious, both subjects and superiors, who are con-cerned with changes in the life and work of their institute know very well that the movement of renewal, like every human movement, is not the outcome of a simple impulse of the Holy Spirit but the resultant vec-tor of multiple and complicated forces. Secular ideas and desires are in the heart of every man. Worldliness and spiritual blindness will make their contribution to the movement too. That is why the process is called the discernment of spirits, and that is why, like every discernment of spirits, it is a risky business. In the process of discernment of spirits whose term is still undefined, an ambiguous situation is created concerning the very nature of the life to which the mem-bers of the institute have given their vowed commit-ment. If the present constitutions are to undergo revision, perhaps indefinitely, what is the subject's com-mitment to them in their actual form? If the institute should take a wrong turn or miss its kairos, what will be his commitment to the constitutions in the future? It would appear that the religious subject is invited to enter upon an indefinite process of judging his institute in its fidelity to the call of grace and that his individual judgment will have a radical effect upon his commit-ment. It is not surprising, therefore, that uncertainty about their future commitment to their institute has begun to trouble the consciences of many religious and that divergent hopes and fears concerning the form of its future life and work make them perplexed over the attitude which they are called to take in relation to their superiors and fellow subjects. At a time when the future of his institute is undefined, when should a superior or a fellow subject be deferred to as a religious who is exercising under grace his authentic call as a prophetic leader and when must he be resolutely and uncompromisingly opposed as a traitor to the institute? In what does loyal commitment to one's institute con-sist at the present time? What is charity, and what is selfish cowardly silence for the sake of peace and per-sonal survival? These are the difficult questions which the director of conscience is asked to solve time after time. The task of aiding the religious subject to discern the movement of the Spirit from the distorting influences of human infidelity, complacency, and weakness has been complicated by the rapid evolution of theology in the post-conciliar Church. The theology of the Church, of revelation, of grace and nature, has been the subject of considerable, and sometimes turbulent, debate dur-ing the past few years. The consequence has been a renewed discussion concerning the nature of Christian holiness, the force and duration of the vows, and the value of the witness of the counsels in their tradi-tional institutional form. This lively discussion cannot fail to call into question the fundamental understand-ing of the religious life which is taken for granted by many sets of constitutions. More may be involved than simple adaptation and renewal. Perhaps radical and total revision may be called for in the light of a newer theological understanding of the religious life. Should that be the case, what then becomes the status of loyal commitment to the constitutions of one's holy founder? Nevertheless, working on the principles of classical post-Vatican theology, the director of conscience felt until fairly recently that he was in a position to guide a religious toward the solution of his problems about commitment to a divided and changing institute. Since the Church had invited religious institutes to reform their constitutions, it was a safe assumption that many of them were no longer adequate expressions of the community's charismatic call. Furthermore, since com-munal discussion on various levels was the recom-mended means, there were good prima facie grounds for the assumption that the interplay of different points of view would be the means employed by the Holy Spirit to manifest the form of life and work to which the institute should now commit itself. Classical post-Vati-can theology also gave the reason why this process could be expected to lead to radical changes in some insti-tutes, s The type of religious life suited to monastic-contemplative communities is very different from that demanded by an active-apostolic group. The order and form of life and prayer, the religious virtues re-quired of subjects, the relationship between subject and superior differ widely in these two types of institutes. In the past this essential difference was not sufficiently appreciated, and active congregations, especially of women, received a set of constitutions which were not suited to their active life. In such groups we could an-ticipate great changes. Likewise we would expect that at a period in which the secular institute is coming into its own some institutes or groups within existing institutes would be moved by the Holy Spirit to adopt this form of life for their active apostolate. Church historians during the post-Vatican period of renewal reminded religious and their directors that ~ Orsy, op. cit., pp. ÷ 4- 4. ¢o~t VOLUME 29, 1970 25 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS movements of renewal and reform within religious groups were often the result of the work of charismatic leaders. And often the prophetic action of such leaders led to dissension and ultimate division in their own institutes. The work of the Spirit can be accomplished through bitter disagreement and ultimate division of groups which were once united. This was true of the divisions among the Franciscans and the Carmelites. It was true in the United States when the Paulists seceded from the Redemptorists to form a new congregation. On the basis of these historical and theological con-siderations, which are quite familiar to anyone who has even a general acquaintance with the post-conciliar literature, directors of conscience were able to derive a number of principles to handle problems of religious commitment in divided and evolving institutes. These prindples, which worked successfully and still retain a good deal of their validity, can be summed up as fol-lows. (I) Since it is not inconceivable that the interplay of conflicting hopes and fears which divide an institute may be destined by God to lead either to a painful but providentially destined division or to a dearer under-standing of the future form of life to which a united institute can commit itself, the individual religious sub-ject cannot deny in an a priori way that in the same congregation commitment to the institute and corre-spondence to their special grace may reveal itself in dif-ferent subjects through fundamentally different orienta-tions. Whatever may be the consequence which God ultimately intends, these diverse hopes and fears can be a faithful answer to a charismatic call which, for the moment, remains a common one. If they should lead to an ultimate division, the new institutes will be re-lated to each other through their origin in grace. They will be filial or sister institutes. (2) Therefore the individual religious subjects who find themselves in such an evolving situation are still united by the bond of fraternal charity and justice. Each is still called upon to contribute in the measure of his ability to the clarification of the future options which are emerging now. (3) Meanwhile the subject remains under the obedi-ence of the institute through whose constitutions his vocation is specified at the present time. Its rule, its superiors, and his fellow subjects retain the claim on him conceded to them by his vows. Since its mem-bers are being led to their future vocation through their present institute, ways of acting or of withdrawal from common activity which violate the justice and charity he owes them are not permitted to him. The New Situation in Religious LiIe Today, however, the director of conscience is begin-ning to wonder if it is safe for him to handle individual difficulties about religious commitment on the basis of these general principles. In the first place they are based on the theology of the religious life which is associated with the Constitution on the Church and the Decree on the Renewal o] the Religious Li]e for which he could once assume general acceptance among religious. In terms of that theology religious life is justified on the basis of its witness to the sanctity and eschatological hope of the visible Church. In the second place they rested on the assumption that unless there was striking evidence to the contrary each institute was passing through its providential kairos and was being led by God to its providential renewal or division. In the third place they took for granted that, unless clear evidence to the contrary existed, each religious could be assumed to have given a stable commitment to his institute and to his fellow religious, the nature and extent of which was given accurate expression through the constitutions. On the basis of that commitment, a supernatural bond existed among the members of the congregation. They were a family, a society within the Church with all the rights and expectations which membership within such a family entailed. It is becoming increasingly difficult for the religious subject or his director to make these assumptions as confidently as he did in the past; and if they cannot be made, the whole context within which problems dealing with religious commitment must be solved has been changed. There are many reasons for their present difficulty. To begin with, it is no secret that the movement of renewal is not going well. The defection figures are becoming alarming. Many religious, rightly or wrongly, seem to have reached the conclusion that in the movement of reform their institute has missed its kairos. Either it has failed to yield in time to the move-ment of the Spirit or it has yielded too much to the spirit of the world. In any event, these religious have decided that the form of life and work prescribed by their institute is no longer the way in which they can do the most for God. Other religious have withdrawn interiorly and made no secret of their withdrawal. Even though they remain within .the institute, they are alien-ated from it and leave their fellow religious uncertain about the depth, extent, and duration of their com-mitment to it. The longer the present unhappy stage of renewal continues with its increasing number of ÷ ÷ ÷ ~omm~ment VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ + 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS defections and interior withdrawals, the greater will be the uncertainty of the religious subject concerning the commitment of his fellow subjects and even of his su-periors. And, if he can no longer be certain that their actions are proceeding from commitment to the insti-tute. how should be behave toward them? Should he continue to deal with them in all simplicity as fellow religious? Or should he be prudent and follow the ordinary rules of political morality? Furthermore this disturbing ambiguity concerning his fellow religious' commitment to the institute does not come simply from ignorance of the judgment which they have made, perhaps definitively, about its [actual state. It also comes from uncertainty about the norm which they are using to measure its spiritual health and prospects for the future. Increasing theological di-versity, legitimate enough and even necessary within the larger body of the Church, is beginning to lead to di-versity among the members of the same institute con-cerning the nature and end of the religious life, the virtues which should characterize religious, the hope to which they witness, and the extent and duration of the commitment which they make to the community and consequently to each other through the three vows. That such diversity exists today among the mem-bers of religious groups is clear enough to anyone who has been engaged in the work of religious renewal. Often it lies beneath the surface, dividing religious who are not yet fully conscious of the depth and extent of their division. It shows itself, however, in retreats, in discussions, and in reflections about the formation of religious when different conclusions flow from dif-fering presuppositions which should be analyzed and clarified. Consequently, for many a religious subject his in-stitute has become a very unstable community. He has the uneasy feeling that its constitutions in their present form, even after their revision, and the style of life and work which its superiors prescribe or permit, through uncertainty, expediency, or a genuine desire to "paper over differences" for the sake of peace, no longer ac-curately express the nature, extent, and duration of the commitment which many of his fellow religious are making in reality to his institute in its actual, concrete form. Yet the commitment of his fellow religious creates the bond which makes the institute a living reality. Its duration makes the community a stable family; the depth, extent, and primacy which it occupies in a religious' life determines the depth and breadth of his association with his community and the priority which that association holds among the other commitments, professional and social, in his life. A notable change in the commitment of a significant number of individ-ual religious cannot fail to modify the nature of their institute. Thus, after a certain limit, ambiguity about the object, depth, and duration of its subjects' present commitment places the real nature of their institute in doubt. This doubt in turn creates a second doubt in the mind of the individual subject about his own obli-gation to the organization as it presently exists in the real order, and this doubt cannot fail to afl~ect his own commitment. Obviously this is an escalating process which, ultimately, can lead to a major change in an institute or even to its destruction. This agonizing doubt about the real nature of his institute today as a result of the change in the commit-ment of his fellow religious is the new problem of commitment which is troubling the peace and under-mining the vocation of many religious who weathered the storms of the earlier periods of renewal quite success-fully. This time, however, neither he nor his director can solve the problem by themselves with the resources which they now possess. The nub of the problem is a doubt which the religious cannot resolve himself. Since he cannot read hearts, he must be able to as-sume with reasonable probability that the vows as they are specified in his institute accurately express a genuine and stable union of minds and wills among its subjects. If he cannot make that assumption, he does not know what it is to which he has pledged him-self through his commitment to his community. Neither does he know what communal support, natural and supernatural, he may expect in return. Need to Eliminate Ambiguity To eliminate this ambiguity, or at least to reduce it to the proportions which are compatible with the existence of a viable religious community, existing in-stitutes, especially the larger ones, will have to confront more clearly, and perhaps more courageously than they have done so far, its two major sources: the uncertain relation between their constitutions and the genuine commitment of their subjects and the unanalyzed re-lation between their constitutions and the theology of the religious life on which they rest. Some institutes will be asked to examine more honestly their present state. Does their religious life as it is actually lived conform to the ideal which their institute proclaims? Prolonged compromise and delay of genuine renewal, even for apostolic and economic reasons, inevitably lead to ambiguity concerning the real commitment re-quired of a subject in the institute and can easily lead 4- 4- 4" Commitment VOLUME 29, 1970 29 4. 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS today to discouraged alienation among the young and generous. Other communities are being asked to ex-amine more carefully whether they are called to lead a contemplative or active-apostolic life. Although they are different vocations, both are viable. Is it not possible that in some institutes a division into separate groups following each of these vocations might be a healthy, and perhaps a necessary thing?9 Theological Pluralism and the Constitutions Because of the increasing theological diversity which is already affecting the Church of the present and which will mark the Church of the future even more pro-foundly, it will be necessary for each institute to clarify the theological suppositions which justify its basic choice of life and work. The development of philosophy and theology within the Church, the ihfluence of process philosophy and theology upon Catholic understanding of ecclesiastical structures and the formulation of doctrine, the impact of a newer understanding of the relation of grace and nature, of eschatology and earthly values upon Catholic understanding of the spiritual life have had their effect on religious' attitudes toward prayer, penance, action, contemplation, and service of the Church. That there is a diversity on many of these topics and that such diversity will continue is a fact that we must accept. That there will be and should be a much greater range of free opinions in the Church of the future is a position which most theologians accept today. And if such diversity means, as it seems it does, diverse understandings of the nature and value of re-ligious life, this is a fact which we must accept and whose implications we must analyze. When diverse theological opinions become free in the Church the right to live one's life in the light of them must be respected. If they are solid enough to base the commitment of a total life, the legitimacy of a religious institute based on them can hardly be denied. If, on the other hand, the solidity of opposed theological opinions remains strong enough to ground the commitment of a total Christian life, the legiti-macy of a religious institute grounded on them cannot be questioned either. Thus we may find in all likeli-hood that there will be in the Catholic Church re-ligious living accordingly to theologically diverse under-standings of the religious life. What would not make sense, however, is that they should be endeavoring to do so in the same institute. For it is difficult to under-o For a provocative discussion of this point, see Felix Cardegna, "Future Forms of Religious Life," Catholic Mind, v. 66, (1968), pp. 9-13. stand how constitutions embodying one fundamental conception of the religious life could thematize a com-mitment to an opposed one. Such constitutions would be simply a juridical form concealing basic differences. They could not be the vital expression of communal witness and spiritual unity. Consequently religious congregations, especially the larger ones which have the resources to do so, must examine very soon the theological presuppositions which lie at the basis of their constitutions. Do their con-stitutions express a conception of the religious life which is still viable and to which they wish to give the witness of their lives? I[ not, then they must change the constitutions, even though they express the dearest thought of the holy founder. If so, then they must spell out their fundamental theological position.s, even though there may be other opposed positions which are now free within the Church. If this is done, the individual subject will have a chance to see what it is to which the institute commits itself and to judge whether or not he wishes to make the same commitment. Retreat directors will have a better chance to help individual religious in their endeavor to find the will of God and novice masters will be in a better position to give solid answers to the reasonable questions of the young. This will not be an easy task. It will take openness, skill, and the employment of the best theological talent which a congregation has at its disposal. Its urgency, however, is becoming more apparent every day and we may anticipate that before long the general chapters and congregations of the larger congregations will be obliged to address themselves to it. 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 29, 1970 SISTER M. TERESANTA RYS, C.S.F.N Recreation, and Relaxation in Religious Life ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta writes from Marian Heights; 1428 Mon-roe Turnpike; Mon-roe, Connecticut 06468. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Psalmist says: "Have leisure and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). Recreation and relaxation presuppose leisure time. The term leisure will be used repeatedly in this paper and hence must be defined. The concept of leisure cannot be expressed in simple synonymous terms. To do so would be to risk misinterpretation. The explanation of the con-cept will form the introduction to this paper. Leisure, it must be clearly understood, is a mental and spiritual attitude--it is not simply the result of external fac-tors, it is not the inevitable result of spare time, a holiday, a weekend, or a vacation. It is, in the first place, an attitude of the mind, a condition of the soul, and as such is utterly contrary to the ideal of "worker" in each and every one of the three as-pects under which it was analysed: work as activity, as toil, as a social function. Leisure is a form of silence, of that silence which is a pre-requisite to the apprehension of reality: only the silent hear, and those who do not remain silent do not hear.leisure is a receptive attitude of mind, a contemplative attitude, and it is not only the occasion but also the capacity for steeping one-sell in the whole of creation. - Leisure is not the attitude o[ mind o[ those who actively intervene, but o[ those who are open to everything? From the outset it can be seen that leisure is meant to lead us to God. This is not to imply that time, activities, and negative aspects as off-duty time and non-work activi-ties are not related to leisure.2 But these are not of its essence. Regarding the elements of time and activity, ". 1Josef Pieper, Leisure the Basis ol C, ulture, trans, by Alexander Dru (New York: New American Library, 1963), pp. 40-1. a See Roll B. Meyersohn, "Americans Off Duty," in Free Time: Challenge o] Later Maturity, ed. Wilma Donahue and others (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1958), pp. 45-6. leisure is unobligated time which can be spent in any way one wishes. It is supposed to be refreshing, diverting, and enriching, and what set of activities provides for such qualities is to be a matter of personal taste." s Philosophers, spiritual writers, and psychologists throughout the ages have acknowledged the predomi-nance of the divine motive in leisure, but at the same time they have emphasized the physical benefits as well. Plato, for instance, says: But the Gods, taking pity on mankind, born to work, laid down the succession of recurring feasts to restore them from their fatigue, and gave them the Muses, and Apollo their leader, and Dionysus, as companions in their feasts, so that nourish-ing themselves in festive companionship with the Gods, they should again stand upright an~erect.' One author paraphrased Thomas Aquinas' position on leisure by stating that the man who reasons and contem-plates "must occasionally relax the tension of reason by resting the soul. This rest of the soul is a form of pleasure.''5 Currently, Father Kevin O'Rourke, O.P., notes that man is a composite being--body, soul, mind, emotions. These work as a unity. Just as a body has need of refreshment, the emotions and mind need it, too. This refreshment they get from recreation.6 Because the world in which we live places so much value on work and activity, many persons, including religious, determine the worth of an individual by how much and how well she produces. Whatever is done must have a utilitarian purpose or it is worthless. The individual be-comes a functionary. This, in spite of the fact expressed by Alexander Reid Martin: So the poets and philosophers for thousands of years have agreed upon the supreme importance of leisure. But modern man apparently cannot avail himself of this blessing. With more leisure time available, there is a lessening capacity to en-joy it and to use it creatively and constructively. Modern man finds that he cannot relax to order.7 As religious who are pressed for time, zealous to do all we can to further God's glory through our various apostolates, we must beware of the fallacy of overwork. Throughout the Christian centuries we have become imbued with the idea that work is noble and good, and that it is through work that we will help achieve our sal-vation. Many of us have, as stated, accepted the fallacy of 8 Ibid., p. 48. ' Plato as cited by Pieper, Leisure, p. 19. ~ e Father Emmanuel, O.C.D., "The Need of Relaxation," Spiritual LiIe, v. 7 (1961), p. 222. ~ See Kevin O'Rourke, O.P., "Recreation in the Religious Life," Acta Records (Chicago: Acta Foundation, 1964). 7Alexander R. Martin, "The Fear of Relaxation and Leisure," American Journal o] Psychoanalysis, v. I1 (1951), p. 45. 4" VOLUME 29, 1970 + + 4. Siste~ Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the worth of an individual based on her ability to work. We have allowed ourselves to believe that unless we are occupied, we are wasting our time, we are allowing our-selves to be idle, and idleness is a breeding ground for the devil's wiles. Even our recreations have taken on a functionary air--the knitting to be done, the stockings to be darned, the papers to be corrected--all, so that we wouldn't waste timel Sixty years ago, Bishop John L. Spalding noted: We are too busy, we do too much. And the temper our rest-less activity creates makes us incapable of leisure, which is the end of work. The man is worth, not what his work is worth, but what his leisure is worth. By his work he gains a livelihood, but his leisure is given him that he may learn how to live, that he may acquire a taste for the best things, may acquaint himself with what is truest and most beautiful in literature and art, in science and religion, may find himself, not chiefly in the nar-row circles of his private interests, but in the wide world of noble thought and generous emotion? (emphasis added) There are some people who feel that leisure must be justified, for example, we relax or take recreation in order to work more efficiently or in order to restore our strength and energy. This is to revert to pragmatism. Joseph Pieper, a philosopher of our day, notes that how-ever much a person may restore health and energy through leisure, this is not primary, because leisure, like contem-plation, is of a higher order than the active life, and this order cannot be reversed. No one who looks to leisure simply to restore physical, mental, or spiritual powers, will ever enjoy the real fruits of it. He states: The point and justification of leisure are not that the func-tionary should function faultlessly and without a breakdown, but that the functionary should continue to be a man --and that means that-he should not be absorbed in the clear-cut milieu of his strictly limited function; the point is also that he should retain the faculty of grasping the world as a whole and realizing his full potentialities as an entity meant to reach wholeness? The philosopher elaborates this point and states that celebration is the soul of leisure and that since it is so, the justification and possibility of leisure is the same as that of celebration of a festival--and that basis is divine worship.1° The history of religions concurs in this judge-ment: whether in the days of Greece and Rome or in the Christian era, the "day of rest" was a day reserved for divine worship. This time was withdrawn from any specif-ically utilitarian ends: Separated from the sphere of divine worship, the cult o| the s Bishop John L. Spalding, "Work and Leisure," Spiritual Lile, v. 10 (1964), p. 78. ~ Pieper, Leisure, p. 44. lo See ibid., p. 56. divine, and from the power it radiates, leisure is as impossible as the celebration of a feast. Cut off from the worship of the divine, leisure becomes laziness and work inhuman. The vacancy left by absence of worship is filled by mere kill-ing of time and by boredom, which is related to inability to enjoy leisure; for one can only be bored if the spiritual power to be leisurely has been lost.~ Fear of Relaxation Before proceeding to the practical application of the above stated principles, it may be well to examine more specifically why religious tend to have what amounts to a fear of relaxation and recreation, why they tend to be so utilitarian in their outlooks. Many pre-Vatican II constitutions, in the chapters deal-ing with recreation, did stress the importance of partici-pation. Many encouraged religious to occupy themselves with handiwork, which supposedly gave them a sense of satisfaction in contributing to the common good even dur-ing hours of recreation (as though their conversations, their interest in fellow religious were not a form of contributing to the common good). One may ask how a person could give undivided attention to another when she was busy darning or embroidering? Father Kevin O'Rourke notes that individual religious must contrib-ute to community recreation--it is a time of giving our-selves to others and hence an obligation in charity,x2 Although the Vatican Council did not say a great deal about the recreation of religious as such, it did note in the Decree on the Ministry and Life o[ Priests that they should "readily and joyfully gather together for recreation." 13 And Pope Paul, in Ecctesiae sanctae, ex-plaining Per[ectae caritatis, notes that with regard to the order of the day: "Religious. should also have some periods to themselves and be able to enjoy suitable recrea-tion." 14 Nevertheless, it must be admitted that our novitiate training, the customs of communities, and the consti-tutions have taken their toll regarding attitudes toward recreation and relaxation. Because of these influences, many religious experience guilt feelings regarding the use of leisure: When we are not busy, we feel guilty. We are torn between hours spent efficiently organizing our lives and the minutes we set aside to waste. For many regard recreation as a waste of time ÷ and have devised ways of relaxing while washing the car or en- + 4. u Ibid., p. 59. ~ O'Rourke, "Recreation." ~ Walter M. Abbott, S.J., ed., The Documents o! Fatican H (New York: Guild Press, 1966), p. 551. "Paul VI, ~tpostolic Letter Ecclesiae Sanctae (Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1966), p. 34. Leisure VOLUME 2% 1~70 35 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS gaging in strenuous exercise. Indeed we are still men who lead lives of quiet desperation. Perhaps I should feel guilty not because I have done too little but because I have tried to do too much. Unlike the poet, I have been so busy that I have lost my playful sense of wonder. I have forgotten to accept myself as I am and have been driven to exhaustion by futile strivings to be someone else. That is why I cannotpray, forprayer involves, a turning of my whole being toward the Lord~(emphas|s added). Some people can rest and relax on holidays and during rest periods set aside for this purpose, only when they are told to do so. They cannot permit themselves to stop, bu~ rely 'on outside authority--they are victims of a com-pulsive, authoritative regime, which can be either inner or outer or both. "In any case, a system of bargaining develops. Work and play become part of a reward and punishment philosophy. Rest is something that has to be earned. All of this smacks of a philosophy dominated by a God of vengeance Of the Old Testament and not of the God of mercy of the New Testament." 10 Some individuals relax only when they have some physical illness, because then they feel justified. The problem of retirement is closely allied to this. Some persons refuse to give up, because they feel they are letting the community down. When they are all but forced to retire, there may follow a rapid disintegration of the whole personality--organic, emotional, intellectual, and moral, because the person's phil6sophy of life prohibited true, healthy relaxation and the creative use of leisure time.17 To return to generalities, there always exists the dan-ger of allowing the sister's work to dominate her life; this isespecially true when she likes the work she is engaged in. Everything is controlled by the task to be performed--even when she recreates, she does so in order to function more effectively, and recreation otherwise becomes meaningless (as does prayer, incidentally). Be-fore long, her specialty pervades every aspect of her life, and she becomes enslaved to one view. Such a sister must take care to place work in its prdper perspective in the totality of her religious life. Work may lead us to God, but it may also distract us from Him. To maintain this proper perspective, prayer and meditation are essential,is Those who tend to be busybodies would also do well to recall a study made by E. D. Hutchinson on the bio-graphical data of many creative minds--poets, authors, composers, and so forth. He found . that the experience of sudden creative insight never oc- ~Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 114-5. Martin, Fear of Relaxation, pp. 43-4. See ibid., p. 44. Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 116-7. curred during the peak of mental effort, but always during a period of relaxation . in general, Hutchinson f,o, und that following a long period of what he calls "obsessional preoccu-pation with a problem, during which nothing was accomplished and there was considerable frustration, the creative thinker relinquished the problem completely. After he had relinquished this compulsive preoccupation for a period of weeks or months, the whole answer would come to him out of the blue. Hutch-inson calls this period of relaxation the period of renunciation of the problem.~ Scripture supports this contention: "The wisdom of the scribe cometh by his time of leisure; and he that is less in action, shall receive wisdom" (Sir 38:25). The pejorative significance of the inability to be leisurely and to relax is also impressed on the person's inability to rest, even in sleep. Some people feel they always have full command of their senses, which causes tension. When sleep is related to this compulsive feeling of having to be alert, it surely cannot be a means of re-laxation. It may also be pointed out that the fear of relaxation is typical of people who are unwilling to depend on others for anything--their independence becomes compulsive, and it is sometimes paraded as the virtue of self-reliance or .individuality. Such compulsive independence is indi-cative of self-distrust, actually, and of the inability to truly relax because of the imminence of intense emo-tional conflicts,a0 Those who feel that they must always be busy in some "useful" activity are the ones who subscribe to the idea expressed in the saying: "Satan finds mischief for idle hands to do." The idea of keeping busy to keep out of trouble expresses it similarly. This attitude shows itself in the person's inability to play and to ~,ork in a leisurely way. Again, those who are dependent upon a fixed routine or schedule indicate the presence of internal conflicts. The routine is self-imposed and they either comply or defy it, but they are not free. Hence, they. are unable to truly relax and use leisure time creatively. To them, leisure is always freedom [torn something, not freedom [or something.21 Such persons put themselves into straigh~ jackets and do not want to be free, to act on their own, because in doing so, they set inner conflicts into motion. Leisureliness in Work Binding ourselves to work is binding ourselves to a utilitarian process in which our needs are satisfied. Our whole lives are consumed by this process. We must ask ~Martin, Fear o[ Relaxation, p. 44. ~See ibid., p. 46. ~See ibid., p. 48. 4. + 4. Leisure VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~8 and answer the question: What causes a person to be so bound, and how can she free herself? Joseph Pieper an-swers: . to be tied to the process of work may be ultimately due to inner impoverishment of the individual: in this context everyone whose life is completely filled by his work (in the special sense of the word work) is a proletarian because his life has shrunk inwardly, and contracted, with the result that he can no longer act significantly outside his work and perhaps can no longer conceive of such a thing~ (emphasis added). And now, what can be done about the problem? Much, of course, depends upon the willingness of the individual to admit to herself that she is so addicted, to whatever de-gree. Without this admission, there can be no cure. Once this is made, the individual must enlarge the range of interests she has. She must learn to make leisureliness a part of her life and not limit herself only to work-related interests. But "the provision for an external opportunity for leisure is not enough; it can only be fruitful if the man himself is capable of leisure, and can, as we say, 'Occupy his leisure' or. 'work his leisure'." ua Of course, it does little good to tell a person, or for a person to tell herself, that she must not have guilt feelings or fear of relaxation. There must take place concrete efforts at relaxation and recreation--the way to develop a sense of leisure is to be leisurely. Initially, the guilt feelings will remain and may, indeed, occasion more guilt and fear. But it is only in repeated efforts and with the encouragement of someone who appreciates the value of recreation ". that I can hopefully come to appreciate the need for worthwhile recreation to sustain the religious values upon which I have grounded my life." ~4 When one is able to recreate well, one is able to pray and work well. A well-balanced, mature personality will be the conse-quence. Finally, "when the individual is able to say and to feel that convention, schedule or routine is his slave, then the compulsive needs to defy, comply, or rebel do not arise, and healthy relaxation and leisure become possible." :5 Prayer and Education Throughout this paper thus far, it has been stated that leisure is a spiritual attitude, that leisure is of a higher sphere than activity, that leisure is justified by divine worship, and that prayer is necessary to maintain a proper balance between work and leisure. It would seem from this that leisure is closely related to our prayer life. Per- Pieper, Leisure, pp. 50-1. Ibid., pp. 54-5. Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 117. Martin, Fear o/Relaxation, p. 48. haps as religious we ought to delve more deeply into this aspect of leisure. "Prayer requires leisure, and it ought to become our leisure." ~0 Again, this presupposes that we know what leisure is. Here especially we should note that neither prayer nor leisure are utilitarian. Both prayer and leisure are those times when we need not try, but simply be hu-man, as perfectly human as possible.27 During these times we can simply be ourselves, and not be striving to be someone else, or to be striving to measure up to some goal. Forcing artificial prayers into our minds is not praying in a leisurely way. We must learn to allow the Holy Spirit to pray in us as He wills. Prayer affords us with the opportunity to get rid of preoccupations. Simply going over the day or some plans, while keeping in mind that these are for the Lord, consti-tutes prayer, and is an excellent means of banishing pre-occupations. Preoccupation with work, recall, leads to compulsive action and an inability to be leisurely; by the same token, it leads to an inability to pray: "Activism and its roots are as much in a lack of leisure as a lack of prayer." ~s Accepting prayer as leisure will help us to relieve our daily tensions; but this can be only if we do not regard leisure and prayer as a duty or as a means of relieving ten-sion. By just praying or recreating, we ease tension. And, of course, this will redound to the benefit of the commu-nity in which we live. Carrying the idea of prayer as leisure a step further, we can see a relationship between a Mass and a commu-nity recreation well celebrated. For in the Mass there is a dialogue between God and His people. There is commu-nication. Now, recreation to be really recreative must involve communication, too: "It is not stretching a point to see community recreation as the extension and fruit of the festive dialogue of the Mass; in itself it has something of the nature of a ritual and might indeed be considered a sacramental for community." .oa So, if we personalize the community recreation, if we "celebrate" it in a leisurely way, we are preparing ourselves for a personalized celebra-tion of Mass. It was noted that the task of education is to help in-dividuals to an awareness and appreciation of what is best in our culture, because in doing so, we are aiding them in acting more perfectly human. Some authors question -~ David B. Burrell, C.S.C., "Prayer as Leisure," Sisters Today, v. 37 (1965-6), p. 410. ~See the re[erences first given in notes 1, 15, 26. = Burrell, "Prayer as Leisure," p. 413. n Aloysius Mehr, O.S.C., "Community Exercises in Religious Life," REvmw for RE~.lcloos, v. 21 (1962), p. 337. ÷ ÷ ÷ Leisure VOLUME 29, 1970 39 Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS whether we should classify any aspect of leisure, recre-ation, or relaxation as "better" or of a higher type. This is not intended. What is meant is simply that, because appreciating such things as art, music, drama, and litera-ture involves the use of our more perfect faculties, they are of a higher class than those involving the use of less perfect faculties. Nor is it intended to imply that either use of leisure time is to automatically be exclusive of the other at all times. Once. again, leisure time should be spent so as to add to one's total personality--but let us not forget that this includes, most importantly, our spiritual and intellectual stature: "Leisure time, profitably employed, should bring every Sister to a consciousness of the reality of God, whether it be through listening to beautiful music, look-ing at an art object, or reading a literary work that ex-plores the depths of the human heart." a0 The type of education that an individual receives will affect her attitudes toward leisure. Consequently, it ought to be our endeavor to give our Sisters a very liberal educa-tion, both formal and informal. Certainly, in today's world, we need specialists in the field of education. But those chosen as such must be careful lest their specialty become their all-consuming interest. And those not chosen to specialize in a given subject, must avoid the error of not being interested in a given field--be it music, art, literature, or whatever--because then they would fail to enrich themselves. Communities must be sure to provide sufficient opportunities for their members to develop their potentialities and interests, lest these be allowed to atrophy. If the sisters have sufficient leisure time and adequate opportunities, more of them should become more original and creative. They will con-seqfently become more perfectly developed as whole persons. The typ~ of education our sisters receive ".must offer them access to the wealth of thinking and specula-tion, to the arts and sciences, that lie at the basis of the best in our culture . The goal of education should not be so much to teach as to offer the opportunity to ex-perience growth of the total personality, including, of course, exercise of the mind and the aesthetic skills." 31 Only then can we justly expect them to make good use of their time, both on the job and off it. And we shall be acting to prevent many problems which inevitably arise =Sister Marian, I.H.M.~ "Leisure Time: A Spiritual Asset or Liability," REVIEW FOE KEL~CIOUS, V. 20 (1961), p. 365. =George Soule, "Free Time--Man's New Resource," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, pp. 75-6. in later years when persons have not learned how to act leisurely. We must be honest and admit that many sisters look upon leisure, recreation, and relaxation as an escape from.the toils of the day or from the monotonous exist-ence some may have to endure for various reasons. And so, it would seem, they quite naturally turn to the ever increasing viewing of television, listening to "light" music, or reading pseudosophisticated reading material found in some current magazines, all of which require little mental exertion. Education plays an important role in aiding sisters to become selective in the type of activi-ties chosen for use in their leisure. Otherwise, the sister ". will never become the educated, cultured woman her profession as educator on any academic level demands; much less will she furn out to be the mature religious woman who can say without any reservation, 'I live, yet it is not I who live, but Christ who lives in me'." as Some may object, stating that they have not been thus educated or trained. The community may then choose to conduct workshops for this purpose, using their own sisters whose profession has trained them to be knowledge-able in the various fine arts. Sisters themselves could con. verse with these professionals and learn to be selective. Not liking to read, listen to good music, or view art is not really reason enough not to engage in these activities. Sisters must learn that they can acquire a taste for them. Granted, this is not easy; it depends upon the willingness of the individual and her repeated efforts. The cultivation of an interest in the arts is as much her responsibility as the understanding and skill she is required to have in her profession. I[ there is a separation between the cultured professional and the zealous religious, the inevitable resuh is a divided personality.33 Finally: Religious women must be women of discernment. They must come to see and be convinced that compartmentalization of their minds interferes with their raison d'~tre--that of trans-forming themselves into souls owned by Christ and changed into Him. Their recognition of the genuine values inherent in the good use of leisure time, will, in reality, bring them closer and closer day by day to an adherence to the truth, and to the One who is Truth Itself.** Once again, this is not to imply that physical activities ÷ are never to be used, nor that leisure is not ever meant for ÷ simpler types of relaxation. These are needed, too, be-cause they fortify both mind and body by not making difficult demands on either. ILei~re, Sister Marian, "Leisure Time," p. 365. See ibid., pp. 370-1. Ibid. VOLUME 2% 1970 41 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Play Under the general heading of "play" we can develop many ideas. ]?or example, our work may become play-- when we aquire a relaxed attitude toward it as opposed to compulsive preoccupation: "Enjoyment comes from doing the best I can without the anxious feeling that I must do everything or be dubbed a failure. The fact that I reserve time for living the inactivity of recreation gives me the presence and peace of mind I need to respond fully to the moments." 36 The Sacred Scriptures have repeated incidents of play: God created the sea, with all its schools of fish and many ships, "to make sport of it" (Ps 103:25-6); exegetes of the Bible apply the passage from Proverbs 8:27-31 describing an observer of creation to Mary who "was delighted every day, playing before him at all times, playing in the world: and my delights were to be with the children of men"; and, of course, there is the famous incident of David playing and dancing before the ark of the covenant (1 Chr 15:29). Perhaps we should take the example, lest we take our work too seriously and it make us its slave and we become proud and self-sufficient. We must be serious about our work to a point--but, then, we must find enjoyment in it.3n Because play involves successes and failures, it helps a person to adjust to these in the more serious business of li[e. Because it teaches the person to "rub elbows" or socialize, play teaches teamplay: The experience and training received in good play are indis-pensable to the well-adjusted individual . Play is training in ajpplication and concentration, and it is training, in socializa-aon. ;. There is no better means o[ turning interest away from self and such unhealthy things as phantasy and self-centeredness toward the objective world of-things and people than absorption in play . Play. is an indispensable train-ing in the serious work oF lifeY The primitive drive of aggression in an individual adult is satisfied for a part in work and education. But not all excess energy and aggression can thus be diverted. Another outlet is found in play. Besides providing such an outlet, play teaches us to overcome dislikes and hatreds which may otherwise develop to unreasonableness. Unless excess aggresiveness and energy are released in some beneficial manner, it will produce mischief and mental illness.3S The discussion on play quite naturally brir~gs to mind a~Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. I13. so Mehr, "Community Exercises," p. 338. S~Arthur Timme, "The Significance of Play and Recreation in Civilized Life," Mental Hygiene, v. 18 (1934), p. 54. ~ See ibid., pp. 54-6. other, more active forms of recreation and relaxation. It should be understood that active leisure applies to all. Some would tend to limit it to chronologically young persons. Perhaps a bit of an explanation would be useful, especially when we recall that Alexander Reid Martin warned that unless a person learns to use leisure properly, she may experience a rapid disintegration of her person-ality once leisure is more or less forced upon her. Actually, it is unfair to label an individual by age, be-cause it deprives her of equality. Thus labeled, a sister is judged, not by her personal qualities or lack or them, but by what is expected of her because of her particular age. George H. Soule notes that no one has yet exactly pin-pointed the essence of aging, either physiologically or psychologically, but that most experts agree that the differences within an age group are far greater than differ-ences between age groups.3~ To be arbitrarily placed in a group often leads to a person's reacting as expected, and this in turn influences the deterioration spoken of, at whatever age level. Generally speaking, however, youth can and does find opportunities for recreation and relaxation. There re-mains the danger of being overzealous and overambitious and of acquiring a sense of responsibility that they must take on added burdens as the congregation's median age rises. Of this, the young must beware--they, too, must develop leisureliness, which will not allow them to be-come preoccupied in any endeavor. The ability to be leisurely and to be able to recreate ourselves should be grasped by middle age, because . by this time most of us have reached a plateau in our jobs or professions. This is not to suggest that, t~or the specially qualified or generally ambitious, there are not further peaks to be climbed. But for the generality of us, I think, we have probably attained the peak of our job or career, and it is time to relax. We can still do our da),'s work, honesdy and competently. But we can also start thinking of our souls. By thinking of our souls I am not speaking purely in a religious sense, though I would not for a moment discount the importance of that. I am thinking rather of a reexamination of ourselves as individuals and of our lives up to this pointwto what extent we have found meaning and to what extent we have failed to find meaning, and then to realize quite soberly that this comparative leisure we have earned may stretch on for us for perhaps another quarter of a century.'° Normally, because an individual has achieved her work goals by middle age, she also derives most satisfactions from it during these years. Thes~ satisfactions she usually shares with the community, and the community should be a~ Soule, "Free Time," p. 62. 4°Clark Tibbits, "Preface," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, pp. xi-xii. ÷ 4- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 43 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS an in~entive for the individual to advance herself even more.41 But once again the sister should beware of be-coming too engrossed in her work and her own personal satisfactions, because this. will narrow her other interests. Then, when she later becomes less efficient and no longer gets such satisfactions, she will have little to go back on: "We are told that people stranded without interest goals, who seem to have no rationale of existence, often become frustrated and lapse into physical or mental illness." 42 This applies to any age group, but since satisfactions are greatest in middle age, perhaps this is the most dangerous age in regard to the fallacy of overwork and underplay. The so-called senior members of the community should not, by any means, be excluded from active leisure-time activities. It is most important that these sisters be kept active and creative, since their physical ability to work is limited, as is their sphere of interests. The community must make special provision for an organized leisure-time program for these members above all. It would be well if they had some professionally trained sisters to accomplish this. More and more colleges are providing courses in recreation leadership, because of the demand in society for such individuals. Surely, it would be to the community's advantage to have such trained personnel. These same sisters could conduct workshops for the local homes and offer suggestions as to how recreation periods could be more relaxing and more beneficial: "Sound rec-reation programs may promote good will, tolerance and understanding, and may improve societal relationships, all of which are significant to the maximum develgpment of personality." 4a Concerning the use of leisure time by all age groups, we find that all activities fall into one or more of the following categories: social and cultural advancement, creative expression, entertainment, recreation, personal development, fostering life, creative maintenance, and classification and ordering.44 These groups of activities bring about certain desired effects: diversion, which counters self-center~dness; expression, which reverses feel-ings of frustration; the struggle ]or survival, useful against regression; creativeness, a method of liberating thwarted instincts; membership, which combats feelings of iso-lation and lonesomeness; participation, to maintain a ,1 Nels Anderson, Work and Leisure (New York: Free Press, 1961), p. 180. '~ Ibid., p. 257. *a Raymond A. Snyder and Alexander Scott, Pro/essional Prepara-tion in Health, Physical Education, and Recreation (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1954), p. 5. ~See Maurice E. Linden, "Preparation for the Leisure of Later Maturity," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, p. 89. sense of self-esteem; social acceptableness, to help main-tain a good self-image; recognition, which counteracts embitterment; meaningfulness, to aid in establishing the true value of nature and life; contemplation, which con-tributes to effective judgmental functioning; sharing, to aid in improving a person's opinion of herself; and simple enjoyment of living.4~ The achievement of the above mentioned effects, certainly, will contribute to a more perfect personality. All of them result from the proper use of leisure activities. All o£ them can be achieved by any individual who de-sires to do so. But some may ask for more concrete exam-ples of how to acquire these abstract values. There are any number of ways, of course, and each way must be suited to the individual, who must consider her own physical and psychological needs. In selecting recrea-tional activities, the sister should always keep in mind that which will give her the most satisfaction at a given time. The activity in which she can best create, achieve, find beauty, fellowship, and relaxation, is of more lasting value than one which yields only one or two satisfac-tions. 46 Following is a list of activities which might be engaged in by sisters. The list is only suggestive, and not all-inclu-sive. It is offered merely to aid sisters in selecting activi-ties to make their leisure time more profitable. Active games and sports: Dodge bail, relays, softball, basketball, bowling, volleyball, rope jumping, bicycle riding, swimming, ice skating, and calisthenics. Social activities: Card games, barbecues, parties for special occasions, puzzles, dancing, and various table games (scrabble, parchesi, monopoly). Music: A cappella choirs, action songs, community singing, instrument playing, composing music, listening groups, music appreciation courses, music study groups, and music instruction. Arts and crafts: Drawing, carving of various kinds (soap, wood, and so forth), needlework, painting, paper craft, and sewing. Drama: Theatre attendance, charades, choral speech, creative dramatization, and song impersonations. Nature and outing activities: Excursions or trips to art museums and to places of religious or historic interest; flower arrangement; gardening; and nature study, col-lection, and identification. Literary, languages, and related activities: Creative writing, lectures, reading, mental games, radio and tele- ~ Ibid., pp. 89-92. ~See George D. Butler, Introduction to Community Recreation, 4th ed. (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1967), p. 240. This book is highly recommended to anyone interested in recreation leadership. Leisure VOLUME 2% 1970 45 ÷ ÷ ÷ vision programs° and study groups in literature or lan-guage. Seroice activities: Directing glee club, orchestra, dra-matic groups, assistance in organizing holiday celebra-tions, and assistance in public relations programs. The preceding list should at least indicate the wide diversity of activities which bring satisfaction and re-laxation to various individuals.4; If there is a recreation leader, she should be sure to consider differences in age, interest, skills, place available, time, size of the group, and the funds necessary and available.4s Having a recrea-tion leader, whether on a local, regional, or provincial level, would surely enhance the recreation program. It would be more organized and more e~cient and con-sequently more beneficial to those involved. Special mention must be made of vacations as a form of leisure. Recently, communities have increased the length of vacation periods and have relaxed regulations governing the way vacations are to be spent. Actually, nothing in canon law regarding religious specifies that a religious must have a vacation, but it seems that some kind of vacation is a normal requisite for an individual. It is doubtful that visits to one's family and relatives should be counted as a vacation, because these are often marked by strenuous activity and loss of sleep, so they are not physically relaxing. Even if they provide relax-ation, they can hardly be considered a religious vacation: "A vacation for religious should serve the purpose of intensifying the community spirit.'° 49 A vacation should be taken in a place away from the regular religious houses, where sisters could get together to rest, play games, and get to know one another: "In relaxation and recreation the religious see one another in a new light, and often discover remarkably fine qual-ities that they never knew existed. In my opinion there is nothing like a good community vacation for fostering a good community spirit." 50 It is recognized by superiors and sisters that all of this is true and good, but obstacles, especially financial ones, will always remain. Nonethe-less, everything possible should be done to carry out a vacation program. Regarding the idea of individual religious saving gifts or offerings to pay for the vacation, it would seem con-trary to present canon law which states that gifts received by an individual become the property of the institute. Even if the religious asks permission, the asking of per- Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 See ibid., pp. 253-8. See ibid., pp. 264-72. Questions on Religious LiIe (St. Marys, Kansas: R~wEw FOR R~.mious, 1964), p. '112. Ibid., p. 113. missions usually pertains to what the religious needs, not what she desires. It the community permits sisters to make trips and visit their families, the community should pay the expenses. The community ought not insist upon or condone a policy of those who get the money, get the trips:51 Common life also requires that, generally spe.aking, equal opportunities be given to members of a commumty. Hence a superior could allow the members of his community to make a pious pilgrimage provided that he supplied the necessary ex-pense money for such members of his community as do not have relatives or friends who are willing to pay for them.~ However, as witnesses of the poverty of Christ, religious themselves should not desire unduly long and expensive vacations, for poor persons are unable to take such vacations. For Senior Sisters The final part of this paper will be devoted to the area of leisure, recreation, and relaxation for senior sisters. Of course, what has already been stated applies to all sisters, seniors included. But it cannot be denied that these sisters need and deserve special treatment; hence, aspects of leisure which pertain specifically to them will be treated separately. The senior sister as a member of society has, like most others, leaned on her role as worker. All other roles-- friend, citizen, adviser--revolved around her worker role in life. When she retires, she must learn to use her time and place her values differently, because new relation-ships to persons and things develop. "If mental and physical deterioration are to be avoided, new interests and new goals must be found, or old interests and aspira-tions rediscovered . The recreation program offers a fruitful means of satisfying activity for them." 53 As with everyone else, however, the primary responsi-bility for appropriate use of leisure rests with the sister herself. There are some recommendations that will help her to benefit from her new-found role. As suggested by Dr. Maurice E. Linden, these are: (I) Continue to develop your resources. Contrary to popu-lar opinion, the human m~nd continues to develop its capacity well into the seventh and eighth decades. (2) Increase your social effectiveness. Because older people have fewer human drives to contend with, they can channel their energy, thus becoming more socially effective. (3) Enjoy your wisdom. It can be a great source of gratifica-tion now, formerly denied because of inexperience. ¯ t See ibid., pp. 64-5. ~ Ibid., p. 63. ~Arthur Williams, Recreation in the Senior Years (New York: National Recreation Association Press, 1962), p. 18. VOLUME 2% 1970 + ÷ ÷ Siste~ Te~esanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 48 (4) Advance the tenets of human progress. The experience of the older mind gives it the capacity to diStinguish the good from the bad, thus enabling the community to preserve values built up over a period of time. (5) Externalize your interest. As a result of many successes in life, the older person should have the ability to be less selb centered an.d more interested in other people. (6) Place your value in quality. Again as a result of experi-ence, the older mind is capable of seeing the intrinsic value in both persons and things, and those formerly considered insig-nificant now are appreciated. (7) Don't be a spendthrift of time. Maturity enables a per-son to appreciate the value of time and aids her in spending it profitably. (8) Make your human relationships durable, It is a quality of a mature person to be unswerving in devotion to persons and to principles. (9) Don't capitalize on dependency. It is a responsibility of the young to care for the old; but well-adjusted older persons prefer to be as independent as they are capable.of being. (10) Exercise judicious independence. It is unwise to with-draw from the currents of daily life and thus deny the young people the benefit of accumulated experience and knowledge ~" These are just some suggestions that senior sisters may find helpful. It would seem that they are striving to ad-just to their situation. The communities must do all that is possible to aid these sisters, through the establishment of an effective program for the use of leisure. As men-tioned, more than in other groups, there is a definite need for trained personnel for this program. There is a need for a varied program, suited to the individual sister: "Diversity is the keynote of the per-manently successful program." 55 The program should be so planned as to include every sister. And every sister should be encouraged to participate, guarding against the tendency to just sit and watch. But her participation must be voluntary. Only in this way will her real abilities shine forth, and only in this way will she give vent to self-expression. Above all, if the program for the aging sisters is to be successful, it should be designed to improve community living. Those charged with developing the program must have confidence in the senior sisters and must be cognizant that ". older people can learn new skills, but., they learn more slowly and need to engage in recreational activities at their own pace." 56 Dr. Carol Lucas con-ducted a pilot program of study at Columbia University and authored a book in which a recreation program for ~ Linden, "Prep

Issue 20.5 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; HENRI HOLSTEIN, S,J. The Mystery of Religious Life Religious life1¯ interests contemporary man; this in-terest, in fact, constitutes one of the curious, paradoxes of our times. However surprising and unexpected this may seem to be, our contemporaries' interest in religious life is shown by the success of the novelized memoirs of ex-religious, especially when they are .transposed to the film. Books about religious are a financial success; this is true even in the case of expensive publications like the recent volume of Mo_nsieurs Serrou and Vals on the Poor Clares;2 this volume, illustrated by remarkable photographs that give the reader a realization of the life of the religious, is a continuation of a series on various comtemplative orders of men and women. Mademoiselle Cita-Malard, who lived with the permission of the Holy See0within the cloister of most of the important orders of women and who is able to make them known in an intelligent and respectful fashion, has published a brief, well-written volume to in-troduce French readers to "a million religious women."a And on. the stage in Paris, Monsieur Di~go Fabri presents the Jesuits4 to an audience which from all appearances:is deeply attentive and thoughtful; by means of a somewhat flamboyant plot which the playwright has imagined on the frontiers of that part of the world cut off by the iron cur-tain, the problem of the contemporary apostolate is placed'~ What is the source of this interest and curiosity which in general is sympathetic even if it is aroused by anecdotal or vestimentary details rather than by what is essential 1 This article was originally a conference given at the University of Louvain as the conclusion of a series of lectures on religious life. !t is reprinted with permission from Revue des communautds re-ligieuses, v. 33 (1961), pp. 65-~9. * Les Clarisses: les pauvres dames de sainte Glaire d'Assise. Paris: Horay, 19fi0. ~ Un million de religieuses. Paris: Fayard, 1960. ¯ A critical review of this drama was given by P. L. Barjon, S.J. in Etudes, February, 1961, pp. 251-57. ' "4. ,4. "4. Henri Holstein, s.J., teaches theology at the Institut Catholiqu, e in Paris. '~ ~' VOLUME 20, 1961 317 Henri Holstein, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 318 to religious life? I believe the reason is that religious poses a problem for modern man; in its own way religious life is a sign of contradiction which ~ angers, shocks, and at times arouses iriescapable questions. If one reflects and considers the matter, religious life by its an.d by its numbeis is a social fact to which modern man can not remaiff~ indifferent, desacralizedas he and living in a paganized atmosphere. This has been stated by Mademoiselle Cita-Malard when she writes religious women, the number of whom she estimates to a million: Is it not a paradox that out of two and half billion human beings and out of about five hundred million Catholics, million women have renounced forever--and in most cases even before personal experienc.e in the matter--the pleasures and the servitudes of the flesh and that they have stripped them-selves of everything, even their own will, either to follow publicly the strict and minute obligations which impose COmmon life on them or to free themselves for a more or !hidden apostolate in their milieu and prof~ssi0n, an apostolate which makes of their life an Oblation without reserve? What have pledged themselves to is directly opposed to the liberties claimed by Ouroindependent, self, centeoroed, sensual age? To this situation, so loudly underscored by:t_he indiscrete means of communication of our era, only we canbring answer by our life and our witness. Doubtless, this Witness will come from religious themselves, for, eveh if people do'not admit it to us, they nevertheless watch u~; si'nce dress and our way of life attract their attention; but witness will come especially from Catholics who Should able to explain to any man of good will what religious in the Catholic Church means. Accordingly; I hope present to y6u what, you already know in a kind of theo-logical synthesis and to give you in ~a simple way :the stitutive essentials of the religious life. Of the two partsof.this conference, the first will attempt [o show religious life as the fullness of baptism; the second will emphasize the .nature 6[ the witness given in and the Church by the religious who is a witness of heaven w~ll as a witness of the love of Jesus Christ for all men, brethren. Religious Life the Fullness~ of Baptism "Religious life," canon 1law tells us, "is a s~able c~o~mmunity way of ili[e in ~hich the faithful besides precepts common to all propose to observe as wello th evangelical counsels, through the vows of obedience, chastity, and poverty" (c. 487). ~ Un million de religieuses, pp. 6-7. ~ In constitutions ~nd, vow formulas the,order is usually reversed "poverty, chastity, and obedience." Was not the purpose of th legislator, however, to show here the p~eeminence of the vow o obedience as mentioned in the well-known text of John XXIII o this matter? ~ In analyzing the obligations of religious life, this legal text first mentions the precepts common'to all Christians to which, it is evident, religious are also bound. It then adds .that besides these religious take on the observance of the evangelical counsels, obligating themselves to these by the observance of the required vows lived out not in isolation but--as far as there is question of religious life in the proper sense of the term--in a stable and commun-ity life. This description might seem to say that religious life claims of those who profess it something more than the Church demands of "ordinary Christians/' This, however, would .not be completely exact. Our Lord's command to be perfect as the heavenly Father holds for al.1, and the exigencies of baptism are the same for all the faithful. But the religious, in responding to a call that comes from our Lord and is acknowledged as such by. the Church when she admits to the vows of religion, intends to live this baptismal perfection in aradical way that by a definitive and irrevocable intention suppresses, the obstacles that might hinder or retard his fervor. "Every Christian," Pius XII said, "is invited to strive with all his powers for the ideal of Christian perfection; but it is realized .in a more complete and.sure way in. the states of perfectton. In religious life there is no question of a Christian ideal 3f life other than that~imposed on every baptized person; it is rather a matter of a complete and total effort to live 3ut in an authentic way the life begun by baptism. The .ame program of perfection is proposed to all; the Gospel s directed to all Christians; religious know no other code of perfection. The originality of religious consists in the ~doption'of radical means which permit them to give full ealization to their baptism; this is done in a prescribed ¯nd organic way within an institute or religious family :pproved by theChurch. In response to a call of our Lord, ,there takes place, at he beginning and origin of religious life a consecration vhich is complete and irrevocable for the heart which hakes it even before the person's lips are authorized to ormulate it publicly before the Church. This consecra-ion, which has .all the fervor and generosity of those -spousals with our Lord of which S~t. Paul speaks, is a lear-sighted and exacting renewal of baptismal-consecra-ion. .~ The life of every Christian is a consecrated one, since n ineradicable character marks it with the baptismal par-icipation in the death and resurrection" of Christ. Every ,aptized person is conformed to Christ; that is, he is T Discourse of December 9, 1957. Acta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 50 ~958), p. 36. 4. 4. ÷ Religious 319 4. 4. 4. Henri Holstein, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 320 regenerated to His likeness, is a member of His Body, and in Him is an adopted son of the Father, Religious profession is not a second baptism: there can be no such thing, but only renewals, more or less fervent, of the baptismal promises. Religious profession--and this is its grandeur and its seriousness---is a decisive act which binds the one who makes it to the obligation of a strict living out of his baptism by forbidding to him everything which could be opposed to the life of the new man. The negative aspects of religious life--separation, re-nouncement, despoiling--which are the first things to capture the attention of the general public as well as of relatives who are present at an investiture or a profession, are nothing else than the execution of this program of radi-cal renouncement which baptism implies. "We are dead with Christ . " says St. Paul. "Regard yourselves as dead to sin and living for God in Christ Jesus. Let sin rule no longer in your mortal body . " (Rom 6:8-12). The demands of baptism are understood by the religious with a total fullness. If it is necessary to renounce sin, then it is necessary to separate oneself from all the occasions of sin, from everything which would be capable of attaching us to a master other than Christ, from-that world for which Christ refused to pray. To renounce sin, says St. Paul, is to refuse to submit to lust. Accordingly, the re-ligious renounces those earthly lusts which are represented by money, by the body, and by self-will; he separates him-self from these by his vows of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence which in their very austerity represent for him a welcome liberation. In this there is no unconscious self-pity or masochism'. There is only the liberating conclusion of a logic which dares to take literally and without gloss or casuistry the abrupt words of the Gospel. Ever since an Anthony left his town and his family to bury himself in the desert when he heard read in church the gospel passage, "Go, sell what you own," and ever since a Francis of Assisi despoiled himself of all he possessed and returned it all--even :his clothing--to his father, religious life has known the joyous liberty of understanding our Lord literally and ol leaving all to follow Him. This would ,be a childishly imprudent act were it not dictated by a total confidence in the promise of our Lord "The folly of youth," say the wise, when they hear of young men and young women who joyfully put themselves withir the cloister or who bring themselves to enclose their whoh lives within the barriers of obedience and chastity, But i is.not the folly of youth; it is the folly of God who is wise than the wisdom of the prudent, For it is not s~lf-con fidence which brings a person to religious life; and if on should enter in a burst of enthusiasm, the long month of the novitiate would suffice to extinguish it. What leads one to religion is a humble confidence in our Lord who calls, a confidence that is capable of checking an under-standable apprehension and even at times a fear bordering on panic. Like St. Peter, the r~ligi6us makes up'his mind to let down the net only at the word of Jesus. And when the inevitable illusions of the first fervor have yielded place to that maturity of religious life which has been described so profoundly and accurately by Father Voillaume in his recent Lettres aux [raternitds of the Little Brothers of Jesus, then there appears in all its naked grace the power of hope to sustain the religious. More than in his early days, he realizes that what he proposes is humanly senseless; but he also realizes that the power of our Lord sustains him day after day and that it allows him to ad-vance up the steep road which he has chosen. Those who come to us, St. Ignatius of Loyola used to say to his first companions, must pray over it for a long time so that "the Spirit who urges them may also give them the grace of hoping to be able to carry the weight of their vocation with His aid.''s But religious life must not be defined by its negative characteristics, as though a religious placed his. happiness in the restrictions of strict cloister and of stifling prohibi-tions. The truth about religious life--and unfortunately this was left in the shadows in thememoirs of Sister Luke --is that it is the road on which one accompanies Christ as closely as possible; it is the means of imitating and fol-lowing Him as loyally as human weakness permits. If he avoids the sources of earthly desires, the religious knows very well that this is done only to remove the obstacles which spring up between him and Christ. "Whoever wishes to be my disciple," said Christ, "must renounce himself, take up his cross, and follow me." It is not a case of the cross for the sake of the cross nor of suffering for the sake of suffering; it is for the sake of being with Jesus. As Charles de Foucauld wrote in his notes: I can not conceive of a love for Christ] without an overwhelm-ing craving for likeness; for resemblance, and above all for a share in the pains, difficulties, and hardships of life . To be rich, comfortable, living contentedly with my possessions when You Were poor, uncomfortable, living a painful life of hard labor for me . I can not love You in such a way. The separation and the renouncements of religious life which each day accomplish in the religious the "death with Christ" of his baptism are considered by him as so many means of resurrecting with Christ. Better still, his vows appear to him as the attitudes of a person already resurrected. s In Christus, v. 7 (1960), p. 250. 4. 4- 4. Religious Li]e VOLUME 20, 1961 321 Henri Holstein, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS For religious life is not a life of dying, it is a resurrected life. The Lord who is followed is not only the poor work-man of Nazareth and the crucified one of Golgotha, He is also the Lord of glory who appeared on the radiant morn-ing of Easter. And the One to whom virgins give them-selves on the morning of their profession and whom they choose as their Spouse is not only the agonizing Christ of Gethsemane but is as well the Lamb in the paschal splen-dor of His triumph. Already they belong to the procession of virgins who follow the Lamb wherever He goes; their virginal promise is the beginning of the eternal espousals which the Lamb intends to anticipate with them here on earth. By virginity, Christ becomes the only Spouse of their heart. At first view, the vow of chastity is a refusal. Its ef-fect seems to be that of a total renouncement--renounce-ment of the senses, renouncement of affection, renounce-ment of a family. It demands that one leave his family and it forbids all hope of ever founding a family. In reality, however, the vow of chastity is an assuming of a total and exclusive belonging to our Lord. The religious who as-sumes it refuses all idea of a partial belonging; thereby he expresses his desire for that total consecration which re-ligious life realizes as the fullness of baptism. This is the behavior of the new man for whom nothing of the old man, nothing of the partial, nothing of the worldly can make sense. Furthermore, chastity gives its meaning to .the vows of poverty and obedience which in turn give to it their own dimension not of repression, but of a complete spiritual expansion in a total love. For poverty is not the sad ac-ceptance of small privations and of petty dependence; it is the gesture of confidence by one who is no longer anx-ious about those things which the heavenly Father knows we have need of: Moreover, poverty is a refusal to be weighed down by the things of earth and by the cares which afflict those who possess things, making them always fearful of losing or decreasing their precious little treas-ures. The religious knows of another treasure: the love of our Lord which leaves him no time to be occupied in the acquiring of riches, the manipulation of capital, and the preserving of property. Poverty is the testimony of the love given to the divine Spouse by one who has chosen Him in an undivided way. Not~only does the religious place his confidence in Him with regard to his temporal life, he also detaches himself from every self-anxiety and from the monopolizing desire for possessions, d6ing this in order that he might give himself wholly to the Spouse of his soul. Chastity, which is the choosing of our Lord alone,~and poverty, which refuses to allow a person to be monop- lized by any selfish interest, mutually complement each ther. And by the conjunction of these two, obedience re-eives all its meaning. Obedience can easilyJappea~, to be n infantile submission; actually in the eyes of faith it is preferring of the will of God. Defined in the negative 2rms of renouncement of .initiative and independence~ bedience is a caricature that is ridiculous and hateful. It as value only so far as it is an ardent search for the good ,leasure of the One who is loved. Christ Himself said that Iis food was to do the will of His Father. Accordingly, the eligious has only one nourishment: the will of our Lord ;hich is the will of the Father who is the only guide of the ctivity of the only begotten Son: "I always do whatever s pleasing to him." The superior, this brother or this sister who commands ,le, is important for me only because he represents Christ. The abbot," says St. Benedict, "takes the place of Christ." t is Christ whom through faith I hear and see in _my uperior. The man does not interest me, even though he ,e a saint, a genius, or a dear friend. It is Christ who is the ,bject of my obedience; it is to Him that I render my .omage in performing what is commanded me in His ,ame. There is good reason for saying that "obedience is n attitude of faith and love only if it is chaste; that is, if t is inspired.by the exclusive love o,f 9ur Lord." Otherwise t becomes degraded and turns into an interested con- 9rmism or into an Unacceptable infantilism. In religious life, all the elements are consistent with.~ach .ther; chastity, which is an espousal and a consecration ~ Christ, gives its own characteristic mark to a life that is ,oor and dependent through obedience; for these two ows, if they are to be genuine in both great and little hings, imply an exclusive choice of Christ as the only pouse of one's soul. This is why there must be a question here of ~vows, of tatutory promises which oblige one's whole life, thereby arpassing the unstable impulse of a moment of fervor. ¯ ove demands definitive commitments, it engages the ,hole life, it gives assurance for the future. All this which among men is often only an illusion 'hich the future may soon contradict unless the love is ~oted in prayer and nourished by recollection is made ossible for the re.ligious by his original and constantly 2newed confidence in the grace of Him who has called. The religious vow is the instrument of that consecra-on which realizes the baptismal consecration in all the lentitude 9f its demands. If at first view it appears as an ll-out effort to excludeand eradicate the obstacles which re opposed to the perfection of baptismal life, neverthe-ss the religious vow signifies the total consecration of ÷ + ÷ Religious Li~e VOLUME 20, 196]. Henri Holstein, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 324 one's whole life to our Lord. It is included in the initia "consecration" which Christ made when He came into world: "I have come, O Father, to do thy will1" The Ser vant has no other intention than that of accomplishing work for which He was sent into the world; for tliat reasor His sole occupation will be to do the will of the Father In line with this consecration of our Lord and in ticipation of this "intention" of the Incarnate Word, religious places himself in the hands of God. As Fathe Bergh has said: The vow is the expression of a positive consecration to divim love. God loved above everything; there in short is the mean ing of religious life . Its program should not be enunciatec precisely in the abstract terms of poverty, chastity, and obedi ence, but rather under the concrete form 0[ a loving imitatior of Christ poor, chaste, and obedient, of Christ the Servant of th~ Father and of men? Religious Life a Witness in the Church Up to this point we have looked at religious life onl, from the viewpoint of a personal relation that unites to our Lord, Now, however, it is necessary to consider in the Church. To do this, we shall consider two points First, the significance of religious life in relation Church and second, the testimony ~to the Church whirl religious life gives to the world. What then does religious life signify in relation to Church?~In other words, why does the Church, withou whose consent there could not be ~ community or an stitute professing the life of the counsels, recognize amon[ her baptized children the existence of groups which order to live out their baptismal life in a more radical oblige themselves publicly to the observance of poverty chastity, and obedience? It seems to me that by the ligious life the Church expresses her own proper mystery The purpose of religious life is to concretize and to realization to the mystery of the bride who is without In the admirable fifth chapter of the Letter to Ephesians, St. Paul presents the Church as the bride whon Christ has chosen for Himself. In order to make her hol~ and to "present to himself the Church in all her glory, having spot or wrinkle," He delivered Himself for Being submitted to Christ, the Churcti has for Him deference and respect, the discreet and fervent love whicl the Bible constantly presents as the expression of the sponse of the creature to his Creator. This is a virgina union which is consummated in those "nuptials of Lamb" to which the angel invited the seer of the Apoc~ lypse: "Come, I will show you the spouse of the Lamb., "And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming dow, ~ In Revue diocesaine de Tournai, v. 15 (1960), p. 18. tom out of heaven from God, made ready as a young bride :dorned for her husband" (Ap 21:9,2), The holy bride has lo gifts other than those .given ~her by her Spouse--the :lorious heritage which He acquired by His Blood; could he, then, have any other desire thafi to follow her Spouse :nd to accomplish His entire will: "The Church," says ¯ aint Paul, "submits to Christ" (Eph 5:24)? ~ If all Christian living manifests in its own way the nystery of the Church, is it not fitting that certain ones hould have the particular duty:of manifesting the mystery ,f the virginal bride in its complete authenticity? These :re those who among all the redeemed have the singular ,rivilege of following the .Lamb wherever He goes; for 'they are virgins." Theirs is an absolute and undivided ove which blossoms in holy poverty and lov!ng obedience; t is the mystery of the Church and her consecrated ones. Through religious life the Church manifests her own ~roper mystery to herself and to the world.-This is why eligious life is so dear to her; it is the reason why through he voices of her leaders, especially the recent Popes, she ~ever ceases to increase her efforts to maintain the cor-ectness of religious life in its striving for sanctity: Holy Mother Church has always Striven with solicitous ~are nd maternal affection for the children of her predilection who ,ave given their whole lives to Christ in order to follow Him reely on the arduous path of the counsels that she might onstantly render them worthy of their heavenly resolve and ngelic vocation?° Religious, by reason of the vocation which surpasses hem and which they know themselves unworthy of, are an ntimate witness to the Church herself; at the same time hey are a witness of the Church to all those who see them ive. Nourished in the Church and directed by her, they ,ear witness to her and show forth that the Church in its nmost reality is truly the bride whom Christ has chosen or Himself. First of all, religious give testimony to the sense of God. )ur modern world has lost this to the extent, that even qany Christians do not understand the contemplative ire; their attitude is a questioning one: "Of what use is t?" To this I would answer that to judge religious life by ts relation to human utility is to condemn oneself to fisunderstand it. I readily maintain the paradox that eligious life is not justified by its usefulness for men but ,y its value in the sight of God. In its primary meaning it ppears useless to the city of man, for the precise reason hat it exists in its entirety for God. Speaking o[ contemplation, Mademoiselle Ceta-Millard uotes the phrase of Joan of Arc, "God the first to be _'rved." I would be tempted to einphasize this even more ~°Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. 114. 4- 4- 4- Religious Lile VOLUME 20, 1961 325 Henri Holstein, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS by saying,, "God the 0nly one to be servedl" This is wh there are in the Church contemplative orders, monasterie of prayer--Carmelites, Poor Clares, Carthusians, Tral~ pists. Their proper witness is to recall to men the im portance of prayer, the urgency of penance, the necessit for adoration. But this same witness is also given by every genuin religious life. Under pain of an anemia'that would quickl become fatal, religious life must always include prayel It can exist and is able to flourish only by reason of spirit of prayer which animates every hour of the day, n matter how filled it may be with the care of the sick, th education of children, the help of the aged or the undel developed. In order to create a suitable climate, there added to prayer religious observance, the rule of silenc~ cloister. One may be tempted to smile at these or to b scandalized by them. Every tradition can manifest a tain rigidity; at times inevitable minutiae may make n ligious life a little out-of-date or unadapted to the time But these are simple human weaknesses which the Churc herself does not hesitate to remedy. To judge religiou tradition by such details is to give proof of pettiness c spirit. W.hat is at stake here and what justifies the ot servances of religious life is the need and the desire to s~ up a favorable climate for prayer. For religious life is a present heralding and'anticipatio of the eternal life to which we are destined by our ba[ tism. It shows forth that this present world is not the onl one, but that there exists a true city in comparison wit which the city of this world with its bustle and its.narro~ cares is vanity. This is the often emphasized eschatologic~ meaning of the vow of chastity: It is an anticipation of th life of heaven; on this earth where the body and sensualit count for so much, it represents "the life of the angels as lived by beings of flesh and blood. Turned toward th heavenly Jerusalem, religious already attempt to live th~ which will be their condition in heaven. "That which will all be," said St. ,~mbrose to the virgins of his tim, "you have already begun to be, Already in this world, yo possess the glory of the resurrection; you live in time, bt without the defilements of time, In persevering in chastit you are the equals of the angels of God." This eschatological witness must be extended to th entirety of religious life. As Father Giuliani writes: Being .a complete break with the world, religious life is witness gwen to the Kingdom of God. Through his life of po erty, chastity, and obedience, the religious makes apparent reality that is begun here below for all, but which will be vealed in its fullness only in the world of the resurrection. is poor in order to affirm that God constitutes the riches of elect in the city of the blessed; he is chaste in order to affirm th there will be no other nuptials other than that of God and H people; he is obedient in order to affirm that the liberty of the creature consists in submission to the full accomplishment, of the will of God. Thus it is that in the Church on earth the re-ligious is a witness to the Church of glory,a But at the same time and by a sort of paradox, religious life also manifests in the Church the charity of Christ who willed to share our condition. To present religious life only as an anticipation of heaven risks considering it as a comfortable evasion, a charge, often enough directed against it. Are religious dispensed from one of the two facets of the great commandment, the one .that commands love of neighb.or? God forbid, for. then they would no longer be Christians. Besides, one has only to recall the multiplication in the Church of charitable orders, insti-tutes, and congregations to reduce to nothing the objec-tion of laziness and flight made against religious life. Contrary to this objection, it can be shown that religious life in its essence is a life of devotion to the neighbor. Pope Pius XlI in the constitution Sponsa Christi has stated this without ambiguity: Since the perfection of Christian life consists especially in charity, and since it is really one and the same charity with which we must love God alone above all and all: men ir~ Him, Holy Mother Church demands of all nuns who canonicallyproo fess alife of'contemplation, together with aperfect love of God, also a perfect love of the neighbor; and for the sake of this charity and their state of life, religious men and women must devote themselves wholly to the needs of the Church and of all those who are in .want. If out of love for Christ a religious consecrates himself to only one thing, the following of Christ as closely as 'possible, then it becomes unthinkable that he should be disinterested in the work of redemption, the salvation of the world. The love of God, which is sovereignly jealous, is also sovereignly generous; this love desires the good, even the temporal good, of all men. The commandment of mutual love .is primary for all religious, and religious life gives testimony in the Church to the charity of God. The witness of religious, then, will be a witness of fra-ternal charity, Of a charity that is patient, inventive, char-acterized by the unfetterable impulses of missionary zeal, of pedagogical discoveries, of parental solicitude. Is there a single kind of suffering, of sickness, or of infirmity which religious life has not sought to care for in the course of history? The almost infinite variety of hospital and teach-ing congregations represent a sort of diffraction of charity towards the neighbor; it is touching to discover at the origin of a given institute the desire to take charge of a particular type of misfortune which seemed to the founder not to have received sufficient care. Although admittedly "In Etudes, June, 1957, p. 397. 4- 4- + Religious Liye VOLUME 20, 1961 327 Henri Holstein, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 328 it is often overly dispersed, such an attitude is a magnifi-cent and multiform witness given by religious life of a tireless and tirelessly inventive charity, renewed each day by prayer and union with Christ. This last characteristic must be emphasized. The apos-tolate and the devotion of religious draw their strength and their constancy from the consecration of their life to the Lord. It is ~his consecration that enables religious to be kind and sympathetic to the unfortunate and the afflicted. Likewise it is this consecration that makes it possible for a religious to interest himself in everything that is human, in science, in literature, in the arts. Did not our Lord who took on Himself every infirmity, also assume by His in-carnation every authentic human value? Conclusion This is the witness to the Church which is constantly given in silence and modesty by religious life. It does give witness for itself, but for the Church which has it, accepted it, encouraged it, and which does not cease to be interested in it. Moreover the religious does not give testimony for his own limited congregation, but the entire Church of Christ. Religious life manifests the magnificent fecundity of Church of which the Vatican Council speaks, in the fra-ternal diversity of vocations and spiritualities, religious life is a permanent sign of both the catholicity and unity of the Church. For on the magnificent path which our Lord calls all of them to follow, there is the same love of Christ, the same faithful adherence to the Gospel as the unique rule of their attitudes, the same charity welcoming every appeal of suffering, of education, of the apostolate. And all this takes place in the calm and serene joy those who, having given Up all for our Lord, know that even here below they have 'received the hundredfold. Who are better witnesses than religious of the joy the children of God and of the children of the Church? True, they do not have a monopoly of this, for they lay claim to nothing, not even the peace which radiates from. their faces. But the joy of their Lord which they always bear about with them--they know well that no one can take it from them. The joy of religious life is perhaps the most constant and the most efficacious trait of its witness. This is so pre-cisely because it manifests itself spontaneous~ly without being conscious of itself and without imposing itself upon those it meets. Julien Green relates that on a walk in the United States during the .war he visited a scholasticate of religious order. To the young man who was showing him through the large establishment, he would have liked ask a single question, a question more important to him han all the details of architecture and of theological programs that the young man was giving him. The .fiues-tion he wished to ask was one addressed to the young man personally, since he was a person.about whom some might think that his ardent youth had been enclosed within the ~ad walls of a seminary and the complicated prescriptions of a rule. The question was this: "Young man, are you happy here?" But, continues the diary of the novelist, I :lid not have the courage to ask the question. "For my guide had about him the radiant air of those who feel themselves loved by heaven.''12 ~ Julien Green, Journal, v. 4, p. 106. ÷ Religious Lile VOLUME 20, 1961 329 I~'; 'LEGRAND The Prophetical Meanin of Celibaq ÷ L. Legrand is on the faculty of St. Peter's Seminary, Bangalore, India. REVIEW FOR ~RELIGIOU~S 330 When Jephte's daughter realized that she had to in fulfilment of her father's vow, she withdrew mountains "to bewail her virginity" (Jg 11:37-40).significant that what she laments over is her virginity For hers.elf, her father, her companions, and those wh~ recorded that tradition, what made her fate so pitifu was not the fact that she had to leave the world in bloom of her youth: this is a romantic view which not belong to the stern biblical times. For the Israelite the pathos of her story lies in the fact that she will experience the joys of matrimony and motherhood. will die a virgin, and it is a curse, a disgrace similar the shame attached to sterility (see Lk 1:25). The prophet have a similar thought in mind when, in their lamenta tions, they give the chosen people the title of "Virgin Israel": "Listen to my lamentation, house of Israel!. has fallen, she shall not rise again, the Virgin of Israel." this text Amos (5:2; see J1 1:8; Lam 1 : 15; 2:13), by callin~ Israel a Virgin, wants to emphasize her misery: she will like a virgin, without leaving any descendants. It is like echo, at the collective level, of the laments of Jephte' daughter. These examples show clearly that according to the Semitic mentality, virginity is far from being an It is a fecund matrimony which is honorable and a of God's blessings (Ps 126). The same applies to men L. K6hler remarks that the Old Testament has no wore for bachelor, so unusual is the idea.~ Christ will change that attitude towards celibacy 19:12). But can we not find already in the Old Testamen a preparation and an anticipation of His teaching? Towards the end of the Old Testament period at leas some groups among the Essenes observed celibacy. This article is reprinted with permission from Scripture, Octobe 1960. pp. 97-105, and January, 1961, pp. 12-20. =Hebrew Man (Loudon: S.C.M., 1956), p. 89. fortunately the authors who mention it are very vague on the motives of that observance. Josephus (The Jewish ,,War, II, 8; 2) and Philo (quoted by Eusebius in Prepara-tion for the Gospel, VIII, 2; Patrologia Graeca, 21, 644 AB), putting themselves at the level of their pagan readers, reduce the celibacy of the Essenes to a misogyny entirely void of any religious value: "They beware of the impu-dence of women and are convinced that none of them can keep her faith to a single man," says Josephus. Pliny (Natural History, V, 17) describes the Essenes as philoso-phers, "tired of life" (vita fessos), who give up. the pleasures of love: Essenian celibacy would be of a Stoician type, but evidently Pliny's competency can be doubted when it comes to interpreting the motives of a Hebrew sect. The Qumran texts might have given us an explanation, but so far on this. question they have not been Very helpful. Though they know of a temporary continence on the occasion of the eschatological war,3 they do not impose .celibacy on the members of the community. On the con-trary, the prologue of the m~inual for the future congre-gation speaks explicitly of women and children,4 and the discovery of female skeletons in the cemetery of the com-munity5 makes it cl~ar that at Qumran as in the sect of DamascusS---if the two sects were distinct--matrimony was at least allowed. In short, a few groups among the Essenes present an interesting case of pre-Christian celi-bacy; the study of thai case might throw some light on the New Testament ideal of virginity, but such a study is impaired by the lack of reliable explanation of their mo-tives. And when we come across first,hand contemporary documentation, it happens that it concerns a sect which ~id not observe celibacy as a rule. ~qremiah, the First Celibate Fortunately the Old Testament presents a much more ancient and clearer case of celibacy: the case of Jeremiah, "a virgin prophet and a figure of the Great Phophet who too was a Virgin and the son of a Virgin.''7 Jeremiah was apparently the first biblical character to embrace celibacy as a state of life. At least he is the first one to whom Scripture attributes celibacy explicitly. Others before him may have abstained from marriage. Ancient Christian writers often suppose that Elijah did so3 and make of him s The War o[ the Children o! Light, VII, 3, 4. iSee Theodore Gaster, The Dead Sea Scriptures (Garden City: Doubleday, 1957), p. 307. 5 See Revue biblique, 63 (1956), pp. 569-72; 6 Document o[ Damascu.~', IV, 20-V, 6; VII, 6-8. 7 Bossuet, Mdditations sur l'dvangile, 109th day. SSee the texts in Elie le prophOte (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1956), V, 1, pp. 165 and'189. But St. Augustine was not convinced of the celibacy of Elias: De Genesi ad litteram, IX, 6. 4, The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 ,+ L. Legrand REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the father of monastic life. But the testimony of Scripture concerning Elijah is purely negative: no wife is mentioned, but the Bible does not speak of his celibacy either. Even if he remained a celibate, we have no indication as to the reasons that prompted him. Jeremiah, on the contrary, in his confessions speaks of his celibacy and explaim it. We may owe this insight on his private life to his intro-spective mood, another quality that was rare in ancient Israel. Anyway he provides us with the most ancient re-flection on celibacy. In it we can trace to its beginnings the biblical doctrine of virginity: The word of the Lord came to me saying: Do not take a wife; have no sons and no daughters in this place. For thus says the Lord concerning the sons and daughters that are born here and concerning the mothers that bore them and concerning their fathers who begot them in this land: They shall die miserably, without being lamented, without being buried. . They shall be as dung upon the face of the earth. They shall perish by the sword and by famine. Their carcasses shall be a prey for the birds of the air and the wild animals (Jer 16:1-4). Those are the terms by which Jeremiah explains his .celibacy. Are those verses to be understood as a positive order of God, given to the prophet when he came of age and enjoining him to abstain from matrimony? It might be said that celibacy was progressively imposed upon the prophet by the circumstances, his isolation, and the per-secutions that made him an outcast. Eventually he would have understood that beneath those circumstances there was a divine ordinance and, with typical Hebrew disre-gard for secondary causes, he would have expressed it in the literary form of an order. In any case, it is clear that Jeremiah gives his celibacy a symbolical value. The loneliness of his unmarried life forebodes the desolation of Israel. Death is about to sweep over the country, Jere-miah's forlorn celibacy is nothing but an enacted proph-ecy of the imminent doom. Calamity will be such as to make meaningless matrimony and procreation. Jeremiah's celibacy is to be understood as a prophecy in action. Symbolical actions were frequent among the prophets. Thus to announce the imminent captivity of the Egyptians, Isaiah walks naked in the streets of Jeru-salem (Is 20:1-6). Jeremiah breaks a pot to symbolize the destruction of the capital (Jer 19:1-11). Ezekiel makes a plan of the siege to come, cooks impure food as the famished inhabitants of the besieged city will have to do, cuts his beard and scatters it to the four winds as the population of Judah will be scattered (Ez 4:1-5:4). In some cases it was the whole life of a prophet which was given by God a symbolical significance: for instance, Hosea's matrimonial misfortunes symbolized the unhapPy~ relations between Yahweh and His unfaithful spouse Israel (Hos 1:3). Jeremiah's life too was symbolical. He lived in times of distress. He was to be a witness of the destruction of Sion. It was his sad duty to announce~the imminent deso-lation: "Every time I have to utter the word, I must shout and proclaim: Violence and ruinsl" (Jet 20:8). Still more: it was his tragic destiny to anticipate in his existence and signify in his own life the terrible fate of. the "Virgin of Israel." "The Virgin of Israel" was soon to undergo the fate of Jephte's daughter, to die childless, to disappear with-out hope. With his prophetical insight, Jeremiah could see already the shadow of death spreading over the coun-try. He could hear already the moaning of th~ land: "Teach your daughter this lamentation: Death has climbed in at our windows; she has entered our palaces, destroyed the children in the street, the young men in the square. Corpses lie like dung all over the country" (Jet 9:20-21). This was 'no mere Oriental exaggeration. What Israel was about to witness and Jeremiah had to announce was really the death of Israel. Israel .,had been living by the covenant and now, by the sin of the people, the cove-nant had been broken. The two institutions in which the covenant was embodied and through which God's graces came down upon the people, the two great signs of God's indwelling in the land. of His choice, the temple and the kingship, would soon disappear. Only a few years more and Nabuchodonosor would invade Judah, burn the sanctuary, enslave the king and kill his children. For the Israelites this would be the end 6f the world, the day of the Lord, day of doom and darkness, day of i~eturn to the original chaos (Jer 4:23-31; 15:2-4). Ezekiel will explain in a dramatic way the meaning of the fall of Jerusalem: the Glory of God will leave His defiled abode and abandon the land (Ez 8:1-11:25). Israel will die and nothing short of a resurrection will bring her back to life (Ez 37:1-14). When the exiles leave Palestine, Rachel'can sing her dirge at Rama (Jer 31:15): her children are no more. Israel as a people has disappeared. God's people has been dispersed. There are no more heirs of the promises and ~children of the covenant unless God repeats the Exodus and creates a new people. A testament is over. God's plan has apparently failed. Death reigns. Prophetically Jeremiah sees all that beforehand. He experiences it proleptically in his flesh. Excluded from the Temple (Jer 36:5), excommunicated so to say from his village (Jer 11:8; 12:6; 11:19-23) and from the community (Jer 20:2; 36:25), he will experience before the exile what it means to live estranged from one's country, away 4. + The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 L. Legran~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from the Temple of the Lord. Before the Israelites he knows the bitter taste of a life which has no hope left on earth. "Never could I sit joyful in the company of those who were happy; forlorn I was under the power of thy hand for thou hadst filled me with wrath'~ (Jer 15:17). Thus was Jeremiah's life an anticipation of the im-minent doom. His celibacy too. When death :already casts her shadow over the land, is it a time to marry? "For thus says Yahweh Sabaoth, the God of Israel: Behold I will put an end, in this place, under your very eyes and in your very days, to the shouts of.gladness and of mirth, to the songs of the bride and of the bridegroom" (Jer ~16:9). An end of joy, life, marriage: the country turns into a sheol: there is no marriage and no begetting in the sheol. The command of the Lord to "increase and multiply" (Gen 1:28) assumed that the world was good (Gen 1:4, 10). But now 'that man's sin has aroused death, the Lord re-verses His command: "Do not take a wife; have no sons and no daughters in this place." Jeremiah's life of solitude announces the reign of death and anticipates the end of the world he lived in. His celibacy is in line with his message of doom. It is part of those trials by which "the most~suffering of the prophets," as St, Isidorus of Pelusia puts it;9 anticipates God's judgment. It is ~part of the sufferings which point to the cross, the final expression of God!s judgment. The solitude of the lonely prophet of Anatoth announces the dereliction-of the crucified vic-tim of Calvary. It has the same significance: it signifies the end of an economy in which God's promises and graces were entrusted to Israel according to the flesh and communicated by way of generation. This order dis-appears. When God will raise a new Israel, it will be an Israel according to the spirit .in which one will have access not by right of birth but by direct reception of the Spirit'(Jer 31:31-35). In such a people the fecundity of the flesh will have lost its value. The Negative Aspect of CelibacyI" "'On Account ol the Present Necessity" Replying to a question of the Corinthians concerning virgins, St. Paul's advice is to leave them" in that state: But,the explanation,he gives is not very clear; "I consider that it is better to be so on, account of the present neces-sity" (1 Cor 7:26). What is that "present necessity" that justifies celibacy? Catholic commentators (Cornely, Lemonnier, Allo, Cal-lan, W. Rees, Osty, and others) see in that "necessity;" as Osty puts it, "the thousand worries of married life,"x0 o In Patrologia graeca, 78, 356. ~ Epttres aux Corinthiens ~Bible de ]~rusalem) (Paris: Cerf, 1949), p. 40. or else the imminent persecutions "which'an unmarried person is better able to bear.''11 The standpoint of the Apostle would be purely individual, psychological or as-cetical. On him who is married the burden of the world is more heavy. The celibate, on the contrary, can devote himself fully to the service of God. ,~ Such a thought is certainly not foreign to St. Paul's mind: he expresses it in verses 39 to 35 of, the same chap-ter. Yet this does not seem to be for him a primary consider-ation. The immediate explanation he gives of his pref-erence for celibacy follows another line: "The time is short . The world in its present form is passing away" (vv 99- 31). This shows that his outlook is mainly collective and eschatological: the end of the world is~'drawing near: let us adapt our attitude to these new circumstances; it istime to detach ourselves from a ~d0omed world. "Even those who have a wife, let themlive as if they had none., and those who have to deal with the world as if they had not." Individual considerations are only an application,,of this iiew on the divine economy. It is because the'times we re' living in are the times of the end that it is better not to be burdened with matrimonial obligations, so as to be able to give one's undivided attention to God. The vocabulary used by St. Paul in this section confirms this ~schatological interpretation of his views on cdibacy. The words he uses clearly belong to the vocabulary of apocalyptic literature. The "necess.ity" (andgk~) .whs the technical term used to describe the crisis of the last times (Lk 21:23; 1 The~ 3:7; Ps.Sal,,5:8; Test jos,,2~.4.);.,in th~t sense it is akin to "tribulation (thlipsis) used l~e.re also to describe the present condition (v 98) a.nd which has also an apocalyptic value (Mt 25: 9-28; Ap 1.: 9~; 7:14; 2 Thes ! : 6), Similarly the term used for "time" in verse 29 (ttairos) 'is about a technical term for the period before the Ad-- vent''12 (see Rom 13:11; Heb 9:9; 1 Pet 1:5, 11). It is true that these terms are not always taken in their technical eschatological sense. But their convergence and the con-text make it clear that St. Paul sets virginity against an eschatological background. With Jeremiah he considers celibacy as a testimony that the last times have come, an attitude that presages the end. The difficulty of this interpretation--an.d what makes Catholic commentators to shrink from it--is that it seems to suppose in St. Paul the erroneous belief that the end bf the world was imminent. Can we 'accept such an ex-n W. Rees in Catholic Commentary on Holy Scripture (Edin-burgh: Nelson, 1953), p. 1090. ~ A. Robertson andA. Plummer, First Epistle o[ St. Paul. (Edin-burgh: T. and T. Clark, 1911), p. 152 . ÷ ÷ ÷ The Mean~ing Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 L. Le~and REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 336 planation of celibacy without rallying to the consequent eschatology of A. Schweitzer?xa Prat, followed by Huby and Spicq, does not think the objection decisive. He accepts as possible the eschatologi-cal explanation of virginity. Quoting I Corinthians 7:26- 31, he explains: "Is it possible that Paul was haunted by the near prospect of the Parousia? We must not deny this a priori . Lacking certain knowledge, he might have formed an opinion based upon probabilities and con-jectures . It is at least possible that he guided his con-duct and his counsels by such probabilities.TM This inter-pretation can be defended, provided we attribute to Paul not a positive teaching concerning the imminence of an event, the day and hour of which none can know, but an opinion, a desire, a hope without certitude,x~ This is surely sufficient to safeguard biblical inerrancy and remain within the limits fixed by the Biblical Commission, Yet this exegesis is not fully satisfactory, for it leaves the im-pression that the eschatologic~il explanation~of celibacy should not be taken too seriously. It would be one of those views that reflect more the prejudices of the time than the Apostle's personal thought, like the arguments bY which Paul tries to justify the imposition of the veil-on women in the assembly (1 Cot 11:2-16) or the midrashic allusion to the rock following the Jews in the deser~t (1 Cor 10:4) Thus St. Paul would have used the naive expectation of an imminent Parousia to insist on virginity, but that would be a mer_e argumentum ad hominem that should not be pressed too "much. The real and solid ground fo~ celibacy would remain the personal and ascetical con-siderations sketched in verses 32 to 34. Accepting Prat's eschatological interpretation of Paul's arguments for virginity, it may be possible to go deeper b) comparing the thought of the Apostle with that of Jere-miah. Is not the "present necessity" of 1 Corinthians 7:26 parallel with the explanation Jeremiah .gave of his celi-bacy? If so, can we not find in Paul~s eschatological justifi. cation of virginity a lasting value, something much deeper than a pious illusion? It all amounts to a proper evaluation of his eschatolog~- cal hope. Was it a delusion which he had, but which he avoided expressing firmly? Or was it on the contrary a 18 See the decree of the Biblical Commission of June 18, 1915 in Enchiridion Biblicum, 2nd ed. (Naples: D'Auria, 1954),'nn. 419--21. a, The Theology o[ St. Paul (London: Burns, Oates, and Wash bourne, 1926), V. 1, p. 112. Prat explained his mind still more clear!} in a few pages of his final chapter on "The Last Things" which h~ suppressed to satisfy an over-zealous censor. These pages have been published in Prat's biography I~y J. Cal~s, p. 99. a~j. Huby, Ep~tres aux Corinthiens (Paris: Beauchesne, 19.46); W Rees also (op. cir.) accepts an eschatological influence on St. Paul't thought on virginity. central element of his faith and of his spiritual outlook? O. Cullmann, for the early Church in general, and L. Cerfaux, for St. Paul in particular, have shown that is the second view which is true. There is much ~ore than a question of knowing whethei~ Paul or the early Church ex-pected or not an imminent Parousia. For them and for us, the heart of the matter is not the date of the Par0usia but its significance. In Cullmann's terms, what is the connec-tion of the present period of history (the times of the Church) with the past (death and resurrection of Christ) and the future (final resurrection)~1~ The problem is not chronological but theological. St. Paul may or may not have been under the impression that Christ was to return soon. This is rather °immaterial and irrelevant. What matters is that, for him, and for the early Christians, ours are the last days (Acts 2:16 if). The last hour has begun with the death of the Lord (1 Jn 2:18), How long will it be? Nobody knows, but it is clear that now, in Christ, history has reached its end and what we wimess now in the world is the consummation of the end: "The world goes disappearing" (1 Jn 2:i7). The Apocalyp~ses of St. John and of the synoptic Gospels show in a veiled language that the trials the Church has to undergo are the fore-running signs of the consummation, and St. Paul explains that the individual tribulations of the Christians are their share of the Messianic woes (Cor 1:24).xr The present period may be short or long: after all, "with the Lord, one day ,is as a thousand years and a thousand years as one day" (2 Pet 3:8). In any case, Chris-tian life is thoroughly eschatological in character. What-ever may be the actual date of the Parousia, we live after the end of history has been reached. We are just waiting for the consummation of the end, we turn towards it and we prepare it. Parous.ia hangs so to say over our life: even if chronologically it may be still distant, it is theologically imminent: it is the only development of the history of salvation that we can expect, and it gives its color to our outlook on things. Seen in the light of faith, the history we live in and our personal fate appear as signs of the end. Celibacy is one of those signs: it shows that the last times have come. It proclaims that the world is disap-pearing. The end has come. Man's primary duty is no more to continue the human species. It is on the contrary to free himself from a fleeting world which has already 10 O. Cullmann, Christ and Time (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1950), 17 In Col 1:24 "tribulationes Christi" should be translated "the messianic woes" and not "the sufferings ot Christ" (it is thlipsis and not path~ma). The phrase does not refer to the sufferings of our Lord but, according to a terminology common in Judaism, to the trials God's people had to undergo to reach the messianic times, the birth pangs of the new world. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Meaning Celiba~'~ VOLUME 20, 1961 REVIEW FOR REI.IG]OUS lost its substance. This is not an attitude of panic before a threa, tening disaster. It is rather an act of faith in the significance of the Lord's death, beginning of the end. Thus Paul understood virginity exactly as Jeremiah. Jeremiah did not know the date of the destruction of Jerusalem: it is not the role nor the charisma of the prophets to give a chronology of the future. But'one thing he knew for certain: on account of the infidelity of the people, the former covenant had become void. Conse-quently the old institutions like the Temple and the kingship would break like empty shells and Israe!, aban-doned by God, would collapse. H~ knew that his was a time of death. The nuptial songs 'would be replaced by lamentations. Marriage and procreation had lost their meaning. The prophet showed it by his own life: his celibacy was an enacted lamentation. Similarly, St. Paul did not know the date of the end. But he knew for certain that the world had condemned it-self by condemning Christ and that the worldly powers had been nailed down on the cross. It was God's plan to leave some interval before the actual end of all, time to: allow the mystery of iniquity to reach its climax and the Church to spread all over the w~rld. During that time life was to continue and marriage was still legitimate. Yet even married people had to understand that they were no longer of the world they were in. Still using the world, they had to be detached from it. Even in marriage they had to bring an attitude of freedom, a tension towards a higher form of love, the love of Christ 'towards His bride the Church (see Eph 5:25-33). And itis quite fitting that to remind men of the freedom they should keep towards a fleeting world there should be, in the Church, a special charisma (1 Cor 7".'7) of virginity, akin to the charisma of prophecy. The celibate's life is an enacted prophecy. His whole life shouts to the world that it is passing away. As Jeremiah announced to the Chosen People the end of the old covenant, the celibate, new Jeremiah, announces the end of the old world. He embodies the teachings of th~ Apocalypses. He stands as a witness of the day bf the Lord, the day of wrath and of death which began qn that Friday of Nisan when the'Lamb was slaughtered Mount Calvary. + The Positive Aspect ot Celibacy: "'On Account ot the + Kingdom of Heaven'" + What has been said so far has shown that, according to the Bible, and according to Jeremiah and St. Paul es-pecially, celibate life is a prophecy in action, a forebodiiag of the end, a public proclamatioh of the fleeting character of this world. It goes without saying that this is only one aspect of the mystery. There is another one. The last days are not only days of doom: they are also days of resurrection. Jeremiah was not only the prophet of the fall of Jerusalem: he was also the prophet of the .new covenant (Jet 31:31= 35). Similarly for St. Paul the last days are only~secondarily days of woe: primarily, they are the days of the Par0usia~ when Christ will come and hand over to °the Father the world revivified by the Spirit (1 Cor 15). The Apocalypse~ ends its enumeration of th~ eschatological calamities~by the resplendent description~of the~heavenly ~Jerusalem° where everything is niade new (Ap 21). Christ's death:on Calvary was only the beginning of his exaltation 1~-15; 12:32-33). The full, prophetical meaning of virgin-ity is to be understood ifi reference td the whole mystery of death and life contained in Christ. Celibacy is 'not only an enacted prophecy of~th~ imminent doom: it announces also and anticipates the life to come, "the life of the new world in the Spirit. ~ ~ Jeremiah, who.had announced the new covenant, might' have understood that virginity would be the typical state~ in that new life which was.nol6nger to be granted bythe power of the flesh but by the Spirit. But in fact he does not seem to have realized these implications of~his prophetical' teaching. Or if he did, he had no occasion to express it. We have to come to the Gospels to find' this doctrine ex-pounded. ~ ¯ Jesus lived a celibate life. We~can not say that hlscase was unique. By the beginnings of the Christian era, the~ ideal of virginity seems to have been cultivated at least in some restricted circles of Judaism. We.have seen the rather~ mysterious case of the. Essenes. John~the Baptist also must tiave observed celibacy. This movement might explain the pu~rpose of virginity expressed by Mary in Luke 1:34. Jesus assumed that ideal and. by His very life fulfilled the la'tent aspirations it contained. Yet there is very little in the Gospels about virginity. This is not surprising. The Gospels are only factual: sum-maries. There is little in themfor introspection and self-~ analysis. They have,little to say. about Jesus' personal life. They do not tell us how he felt when praying;when work-ing miracles, when undergoing-the trials o~ His 'Passion. It is no wonder,., therefore, ~that they would be ~almost completely silent concerning Jesus' celibacy. This silence gives more value to the one statement of the Gospels in which Christ explained howh'e understood His virginity. It was on an occasion in which he had emphasized once more the law of~ indissolubility o[ matrimony. The dis-as See R. Laurentin, Structure et thdologie de Luc I-H iPa.ris: Gabalda, 1957). The Meaning Celibacy VOLUMEo20~. 1961 ,~ , 339 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ciples could hardly understand the intransigence of the Master. As usual, Jesus tried to bring light to the discus-sion by taking it to a.higher level. The heart of the matter is not the convenience of men but the requirements of the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom of God does make exact-ing demands upon its members. See the case of those to whom it has been given to realize fully the implications of the coming of the Kingdom: they can be compared to eunuchsl "There are eunuchs who were born so from their mother's womb; and ttiere are eunuchs who were made so by men; and there are eunuchs who have made themselves so in view of the Kingdom of Heaven" (Mt 19:12). Though this pericope appears in Matthew 0niT, there is no reason to deny its authenticity, In his book on the synoptic Gospels, L. Vaganay insists several times that Matthew 19:10-12, along,, with several other passages, though appearing in one Gospel only, belongs to the oldest layer of the Gospel formation,~ .and to the most ancient tradition common to the three Synoptic Gospels.19 If the text figures in Matthew only, it is not because it was added afterwards to the~ final edition of Matthew: it is not a case of addition by Matthew but of omission by Marie and Luke. The pericope on the eunuchs has an archaic ring that would, have been shocking to Gentile ears. It is the kind of coarse Semitic paradox, frequent in the Bible, quite appealing to the rough peasants of Pal-estine accustomed to the loud and often brutal eloquence. 6f the prophets. It could hardly be exported to Greece or. even to Asia Minor, Syria., or Egypt. It is not surprising that Mark and Luke preferred to drop it. Yet "its very paradoxical aspect guarantees its authenticity.''20 More-over, the parallel text of Mark seems to leave traces of the amputation. In Mark 10:10, after the discussion with the Pharisees on matrimony, Jesus returns home together' with His disciples. There is a change of place and of audi-ence: Jesus is now in the intimate circle of His disciples. Usually when He retires together with them, it is to teach a deeper doctrine (Mk 4:10, 34; 7:17; 9:30; 10:32). One would expect here, "at home," further explanations on the views He has just exposed. Yet, according to Mark 10:10-12, Jesus merely repeats the elementary explana-tions ivhich, according to Matthew 19:9; 5:32 and Luke 16:18, He would as well give to the crowds. Does not this mean that in the source Mark used, there was "at home" some other deeper teaching imparted to the disciples? But l what other teaching was there except~the logion on the, 1~ L. Vaganay, Le probl~me synoptique ('rournai: Descl~e, 1954), pp.~167, 211, 216, and elsewhere. ~Ibid.,p. 167. iI eunuchs recorded by Matthew? Mark removed this saying, but the operation has left a scar in the text. If the pericope does belong to.th.e origins of the Gospel composition, there is no rea.soia to doubt that it was really an utterance of Jesus and this decides the question of its exact bearing. In the concrete context of jesus'ocelibate life, it is easy to find out to whom the third category of eunuchs refers. When the disciples heard that saying, they could~but think of Jesus Himself and possibly also of John the Baptist.!t is clear that Jesus here speaks of His own case and explains it. He does not advocate self-mutilation; He sets up His own example. He observed virginity and He did it con-sciously "in. view of God's Kingdom." John the Baptist had done it before Him; others would follow. Thus Jesus presents Himself as the leader~ in a line of men who; think-ing of God's Kingdom, will live like ~unuchs, giving-up the use of their sexual powers. But what is exactly the relation between virginity;and God's Kingdom? Why should one remain a celibate prop-ter regnum caelorura (in view of the Kingdom of God)? What is the precise value of that propter (dia ifi Greek)? In biblical Greek, dia with the accusative denotes causality or finality (out of, for the sake of, in view of). It is obvious that, in this'context, the meaning must be of finality. But this is still very vague, too vague to base on it an explana-tion of virginity. We can not build a theology on the strength of a preposition. If the preposition is vague, the phrase "Kingdom of Heaven," on the contrary, is clear enough. The 'Kingdom of.Heaven--or the Kingdom of God, since both phrases = This evidently settles the problem, discussed from the time of Origen onwards, of whether the saying should be understood in a realistic or in a symbolic sense. In Kittel's Theologisches Wb'rterbuch -urn Neuen Testament (TWNT), V. I, p. 590, Schmidt favors the ,ealistic interpretation: the saying would allude to people who ac-ually castrated themselves; it would invite the disciples not to imi-ate them but, at least, to reflect on their earnestness. Origen himself s a proof that there were such'cases in the early Church. But was it o during Jesus' own life time? It is rather doubtful and still more loubtful that Jesus would have set as an example this hypothetical berrant behavior. In the same TWNT of Kittel (2, p. 765), J. chneider maintains the traditional interpretation. The problem could be viewed also from the angle of Form Cdti- ,sin. What are the concrete circumstances in the life of the' ehrly ¯ hutch which led to a reminiscence of these words of-the" Master? 'Chat is the concrete problem to which they were given as an answer. t was most evidently the problem of the virgins, an acute problem as "e know from 1 Corinthians 7, and possibly also, together with it, he problem of the widows "who are truly widows" (1 Tim' 5:3; sde Cor 7: 8). According to J. Dupont, Mariag~ et divorce darts l'evangile ~ruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1959), the saying would refer to the case of husbands separated from their wives. This is a rather far- [etched $itz im Leben; moreover it overlooks completely the refer-ence to Jesus' own example. The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 196~. 341 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS haye the same significancem--appears as a key concept.of the ~synoptic Gospels. It.stands at the center of. Jesus' preaqhing. If not exactly in Judaism, at least in Jesus' mouth, it is ',a comprehensive term for the blessings of .salvation,''23 having practically .the same meaning as "the age to come" or "the life of the age to come2'~24 It is es-sentially an eschatglogical entity,. ,What the Jews had ~ !onged for,-the prophets had promised, and the apoca-lyptic writers had described, the new life coming from above, the new world, ~he new cov.enant imparted by God, t.h.e ~new Israel, the gift of ~he Sp'irit, Resurrection ,and Re,creation: it is all that.which is contained in God's Kingdom. ,Butmand th.i_s is the novelty of Jesus' teaching--with His coming, the eschatological world, the world to come has become present, though it remains unfulfilled. With the coming of Jesus the Kingdom of God offers the para-doxical character of being at the same time future and pre~ent. Jesus assures us that it is already present among us (Mr 12.:28; see Lk !2;21),but He also invites us to pray fpr~it.s coming (Mr 6:10). Exegetes have tried to rationalize ¯ this mystery by reduting Jesus' preaching to one or the other-aspect. The "co.nsequent eschatology" of A. Schweit-zer retaiged only the future aspect: the life-of Jesus was mere expectation of an imminent advent of the Kingdom,': expectation which was deceived by the event. On the con, ffary, the "realized eschatoIogy" of C. H. Dodd retains only the present element: with Jesus, the. Kingdom is .:presen~t and there is nothing ~to expect from the future; escha, to.logical elements should be dismissed as mere apoc- ~alyptical phraseology. Both views are only partial. Kiim-mel2~ and Cullmann,2n among others, have shown-that ihe integral' teaching of Christ combines both aspects. In Jesus the powers of the coming aeon are already active and the future Kingdom of God is already at work in the pres~' ent. The Spirit is given~ Yet He works only like a seed: present" in Jesus and in those who will follow Him, He has still to extend His influence to the whole world tillf His life-giving activity covers and trans,!orms the whole/ crea.t, ion. Such'is the meaning of,the parables ., of , the ¯ ~ "The Heaven" is a term used by the Jews as a' s u b s t i t uGtoed for to" a.yo.id, prgfiouncing the divine name. .m G. Dalman, The Words~o] Jesus (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1902), p.A35. Dalman shows thaLJesus somewhat altered the mean-ing of the phrase by giving .it a specifically eschatological value in connection with Daniel 7 : 27. So, though in Judaism the phrase should be translated "the kinship of God," it becomes, in Jesus' teachings, ~ynonymous with eschatological salvation. ~ Hence the equivalence with the Johannine theme of "eternal~ ~ ~ Pror~ise and Fulfilment (Naperville: Allenson, 1957). ~ Christ and Time (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1950). Kingdom" (Mk 4 and parallels). We are still waiting for the end: the period we live in is at the same time "promise and fulfilment." This appears especially in the "signs" of the Kingdom. Accgrding to the biblical conception, a "sign" is not a pure symbol, faint image of a distant reality. It is the reality itself in its initial manifestation. In the biblical sign the coming reality is already contained, yet still hidden.27 Kiimmel has shown how in that sense J.esus' .victory over the devils and his miracles are signs of that kind.2s They show already "the coming, consummation of salvation breaking in on the present.''2s Cullmann has added to those signs the main ecclesiastical functions: the missionary preaching of the Gospel,s0 the cult and the sacraments for, in them also, in the Spirit, and "through the merits of Christ, everything is fulfilled which was ac-complished in the past history of salvation and which will be achieved in the future.''~1 In the light of Matthew 19:12 we can add virginity to those signs. Like the miracles and the sacraments virginity is a "sign. of the Kingdom," an anticipated realization of the final transformation, the glory of the world to come breaking in on the present condition. Such is the meaning of propter regnum caelorum. Jesus and many of those who follow Him refrain from sexu~al activity "in view of the Kingdom," that i~, to live already now the life of the world to come. Eschatological life has begun to stir in them and that life will be, and can already be now, a: life which has gone beyond the necessity and the urge of pro-creation. As with their preaching and miracles, Jesus and His "disciples by their celibacy proclaim the advent of the Kingdom, They exemplify already i.n_this world the fu-ture condition of men in the next aeon. As Jesus explained to the Sadducees (Mt 22:30 and parallels), in the world of Resurrection, "one shall neither marry nor be married, one will be like the angels in heaven." This does not mean that man in the Kingdom of God will be asexual, losing his human nature to become a pure spirit in the philosophical sense of the term. Such a philosophical consideration would be quite alien to the biblical mentality. Man was not made as a pure spirit neither in this world nor in the other, and consequently celibacy can not consist in trying to ape the angels. St. Luke explains the exact meaning of this analogy between the risen man and the angels in his rendering of the ~See J. Pedersen, Israel its Li[e and Culture (London: Oxford University Press, 1926), V. 1, pp. 168 ft. ~ Op. cit. (note 25), pp. 105-91. ~ Ibid., p. 121. ® O. Cullmann, Christ and Time. ~ O. Cullmann, Early Christian Worship (Chicago: Regnery, 1955i, p. $5. ÷ The Meaning ~elib~y VOLUME 20, 1961 343 4. L. Legrand REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 344 logion: "They shall neither marrynor be married for they are no more liable to die: for they are equal to the angels and they are sons of God, being sons of Resu~rrection'' (Lk 20: 35-36). The point of resemblance with the angels is not their spiritual nature but their immortality. It is account of his immortality that the risen man need no longer procreate. Life of Resurrection is no more a life "in the flesh," in a body doomed to death. It is a life God, a life of a son of God, life "in the Spirit," in a body transformed by the divine Glory. Hence the functions' the flesh become useless: procreation loses its meaning which was to make up for the ravages of death. The celibate shows by his cofidition that such life has already started. His celibacy testifies to what O. Cullmann has called "the prol~ptic deliverance of the body.''~2 proclaims that, in'Christ, despite the appearances, man escapes the clutches of death and lives in the Spirit. A passage of the Apocalypse echoes that teaching. Apoc-alypse 14:1-5 describes the glory of the Lamb in the heavenly Sion. There His throne is surrounded'by a hun-dred and forty-four thougand men, 'all those who "were redeemed from the earth." They represent the perfect number of all those who, saved by the Lamb, will con-stitute His retinue in the world to come; namely, all the elect. Their main characteristic consists in that "they are virgins" (v '~). Virginity must be understood metaphoric-ally: it means primarily fidelity to God by opposition idolatry, often described in Scripture as a "prostitution." Yet considering the realistic value of Hebrew symbolism, the concrete sense of virginity should not be altogether dismissed: "They have not defiled themselves with women" (v 4).~3 This does not mean that the author would make of virginity a necessary condition for entering the Kingdom. This passage must be understood in parallel-ism with Chapter 7, which also describes a hundred and forty-four thousand men leading an innumerable multi-tude which surrounds the throne of the Lamb. While Chapter 14 they are all virgins, in Chapter 7 they are all martyrs. This should not be understood as meaning only martyrdom can lead to salvation. But it does mean that one has no access to the Kingdom unless "he washes his =O. Cullmann, The Early Church (London: S.C.M., 1956), pp. 165-76. In his article CuIlmann does not extend his conclusions to the question 0f celibacy. He shows only that marriage has a special theological value since it "corresponds to the relation between Christ and His Church" (p. 173; see Eph 5:29). This view is quite true but should be completed by an awareness that the love between Christ and the Church is of an eschatological--hence virginal--type, The Spouse is a Virgin (see 2 Cot 11:2). Similarly, even conjugal love will have eventually to turn into the-eschatological virginal agape o! which celibacy is a prophetical type. = See L. Cerfaux and J~ Cambier, L',~pocalypse de saint Jean lue aux Chr~tiens (Paris: Cerf, 1955), pp. 124 ft. robe and makes himself white in the blood of the Lamb" (Ap 7:14). The martyr is the typical Christian for he shares the most closely in the cross of his Master. One cim not be a Christian unless he shares in.some way in the fate of the martyrs, in the cross of Christ: The same interpretatiori can be extended to the fourteenth chapter. "As martyrdom, virginity is eminently representative of Christian life. Even as' one can not be saved~without participating in the dignity of martyrdom, one can not be saved without participating in the dignity of .virginity. Virginit~y is a heavenly perfection, an anticipation, for those who are called to it, of what will be the final destiny of all in the Kingdom of Heaven.TM In the world to come all are virgins~ Even those who are married must keep their eyes on that ideal and know that their love has to turn into virginal charity. Those who remain celibate "in view of the Kingdom of Heaven" be!ong to the virginal retinue of their heavenly King the Lamb. As St. Gregory of Nyssa says: Virginal life is an image of the happi~aess that will obtain in the world to come; for it contains in itself many signs of the good things which in hope are laid before us . For when one brings in himself the life according to the flesh to an end, as far as it depends on him, he can expect "the blessed hope and the comin.g 9f the great God,;' curtailing the interval of the in-tervenlng generations between himself and God s advent. Then he can enjoy in the present life the choicest of the good things afforded by the Resurrection.= Thus the mystery of virginity, as any mystery of Chris-tian life, has a double aspect. It has a negative aspect: it represents the death of Christ and, through it, looks towards the complement of that death, the end of a!l, the apocalyptic consummation. It has also a positive aspect: it shows forth the new life in the Spirit, initiated by the Resurrection ofChrist, to be fulfilled at the Parousia. This doctrine is best embodied in the Lukan account of the virgin birth of Christ. Mary is a virgin (Lk 1:34) and, in her virginity, through the operation of the Spirit, she gave birth to Christ, the "first born" of the new world. Thus, in her virginal fecundity, she anticipated and even originated the re-creation of the world through the Spirit. In that account it must be first noticed that Luke-- and Mary--following the Hebrew mentality, do not extol virginity for its own sake. In the Magnificat Mary describes her condition of virgin as a condition of humilitas; that is, a low condition (Lk 1:48). This was exactly the term used by Anna in 1 Samuel 1 : 11 to qualify her disgrace of having ~' Ibid., p. 125. ~ De virginitate (Patrologia graeca, 46, col. 381 ft.). The theme of celibacy as heavenly life or angelic life is frequent in patristic litera-ture. See L. Bouyer, The Meaning o] Monastic LiIe (New York: Kenedy, 1955), pp. 23-40. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Meaning Celibacy voLUME 20, 1961 4- 4- 4- no child. In fact the whole narrative of the virgin birth of Christ in Luke is built in parallelism with the narratives of the Old Testament d.escribing how sterile women were made miraculously fecund by God.36 To some extent.Luke puts Mary's virginity on a par with the sterility of those women. By remaininga virgin, Mary shares in the wretch-edness of Jephte's daughter, in the abjection of the poor women who had no child (Gen 16:4; 1 Sam 1:1~16; Lk 1:25). She accepted willingly the utter poverty and the op-probrium of those who had no hope of reaching, in motherhood, their human plenitude and who conse, quently were rejected by the world as useless. But in the new Kingdom by God's transforming power, there is a reversal of the human values, The lowly are ex-alted (Lk 1:52), the poor possess the earth (Lk 6:20), those who weep laugh (Lk 6:21), the sterile and the virgins are visited by the power of the Spirit and become receptacles of the divine life. These are simply various aspects of the revolution of the cross turning infamy into glory, death into life. The glorious fecundity of Mary's humble vir-ginity contains already the mystery of the gross. Thelhope, lessness of her virginity points to the hopelessness of the cross: it proclaims, that the world is doomed and that no salvation is to be expected from the flesh. But the fecundity of that virginity presages the triumph of the cross: by the power of the Holy Ghost life will spring from death as it had sprung from the closed womb of a virgin. Thus Mary's virginity announces the disappearance of the world of flesh and the rise of a new world of the Spirit. Jeremiah's celi-bacy had prophesied the first part of the mystery. To Mary it~was given to see the fulfillment and to prophesy, in her life, both aspects of the imminent consummation. Mary's Virginity was prophetical: it turned towards the cross and anticipated the end; it ina~ugurated the~new worldwhere the flesh has no power, for that world knows no other fecundity than the fecundity of the Spirit. The charism oPvirgiriity in the Church continues and com-pletes that prophetical fUnction. Like Mary and Jesus, the Christian celibate renounces any worldly hope," for he knows th~it the world has no hope to propose. But, in his loneliness, he announces and through faith already en-joys the esc, fiato~logical visitation of the Spirit. ' u See S. Lyonhet, "Le r~cit de l'Annonciation," in L'ami du Clergd, 66 (1956), pp; 37-8, and J. P. Audet, "L'annonce h Marie," in Revue biblique 63 (1956), pp. 346-74. REVIEW FOR .RELIGIOUS BARRY MCLAUGHLIN, ~s.J. The Identity Crisis and , Religious Life We often hear it said that the child stabilizes the family. After the first four or five years of marriage the love of the honeymoon is usually exhausted: A new love unfolds. Ideally, it is the affection both parents share for the child that forms the basis for this newmand more maturebond of conjugal love. Perhaps a similar phenomenonJ occurs in religious life. After the first four or five years (or even much later sin~e circumstances and persons differ) a process of reintegra-tion takes place. The religious must re-examine and re-interpret his initial motives and goals. CA newer,° fresher love must supplant the older, faded love. And because ~he natural aids which married life affords are lacking', this transformation to a higher and more perfect love requires supernatural grace and natural maturity. There is no dichotomy here; rather, there is an inter-action. Since God has Himself implanted laws in nature, it is logical to suppose that He will follow the natural patterns operative in the human personality when He works through grace. And grace is, of course, necessary for any form of spiritual development. Yet it is imperative to emphhsize the Scholagtie'axiom that grace builds upon nature. Maturity, on the natural plane, is a prime requisite for supernatural progress and for this transformation of love. To hone Occam's raz6r to a new edge: miracles are not to be multiplied withofit necessity. Like sanctity, maturity develops slowly. For a mah is not born a saint. He is born to be a saint. The distinction is significant: men are not saints all at once; with God's grace men become saints. But-men first'become mature. Maturity, as the natural correlate and predisposition for sanctity, takes time. Psychologists point to a series of crises preliminary to its attainment. " We are especially interested in the "crisis of idehtity" ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry $. McLaughlin, S.J., 3700 W. Pine Bou-levard, St, Louis 8, Mis-souri, is doing graduate studies in psychology at St, ~'~Uis ~Jniversity. VOLUME 20~ 1961 347 the crisis contemporary With the process of re-integration and re-evaluation which occurs once the novelty and freshness of the early years of religious life have disap-peared. Resolution of the identity crisis allows a more mature and transformed love to unfold. But several more basic crises must b~ resolved first. ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry M cLaughlin, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 348 Development Toward Maturity One of the most widely used theoretical conceptions of psychological development.is the neo-Freudian synthesis proposed by Erik H. Erikson. At a given age, because of physical, intellectual, and emotional maturation, a human being willingly and necessarily faces a new life task. A Set of choices and tests are prescribed for him by his ciety's structure. This new life task presents a crisis. The outcome of this crisis can be successful graduation or im-pairment of the life cycle (which will aggravate future crises). Each crisis prepares for the next--each is a step taken in the direction of the ne~t, until the adult identity is attained. The first crisis is the one of early infancy. What is at stake here, the psychologist feels, is the question of whether a man's inner mood will be determined more by basic trust or basic mistrust. The outcome of this crisis is de-pendent largely upon the quality of maternal care. The mother's affection and her gratification of the child's needs lend a certain pr~edictability and hopefulness in spite of the urgency and bewildering nature of the baby's bodily feelings. This first crisis corresponds roughly to what Freud has described as orality; the second to anality. An awareness of these correspondences is essential for a true understand- ]ng-of the dynamics involved. The second crisis, resolved usually by the fourth year, develops the infantile sources of the sense of autonomy. In this period the child learns to ,~iew himself as an indi-vidual in his own right, apart from his parents although dependent upon them. If there are conditions which in-terfere with the child's achievement of a feeling of ade-quacyv- if he fails, for example, to learn to walk during this ~period--then the alternative is a sense of shame or doubt pervading later adult consciousness (or uncon-sciousness). The third crisis is a part of what Freud described as the central complex of the family; namely, the Oedipus com-plex. According to the opinion of many psychoanalysts, this crisis involves the lasting unconscious association of sensual freedom with the body of the mother; a lasting association of cruel prohibition with the interference of the father; and the consequent love and hate in reality and in phantasy. This is the stage of.initiative; correspond- ing to Freud's phallic stage of psychosexuality. It is the period of vigorous reality testing, imagination, and imi-tation of adult behavior. The major hazard to the solution of this crisis is an overly strict discipline which produces a threatening conscience and flae internalization of rigid and exaggerated (non-rational) ethical attitudes. In the fourth stage the child, now between six and eleven years old, becomes capable of learning intellectually and collaborating with others. The resolution of this stage decides much of the ratio~between, a. sense of in-dustry and a sense of tool-inferiority. A man learns simple techniques which will prepare him for the tasks of his culture. A. rational sense of duty and obligation is also involved here, and the laying aside of fantasy and play for the undertaking of real tasks and the development academic and social competefice. This stage corresponds to the.Freudian latency period. The Identity Crisi~ We are chiefly concerned inthis ~rticle with the identity crisis, first of~all in its broader, cultural dimensions, and then within the specific framework of the religious life. The young~adolescent in our culture must~clarify his understanding of who he is and what his role is to be. He must forge for himself some central perspective and direc-tion, some effective integration, ou_t :of the remnants of his childhood and the hopes of his anticipated adulthood. Failure to resolve this crisis can result in neurosi~s,-psy-chosis, or delinquent behavior. More frequently,, however, there is a generalized sense of role diffusion. The possession of a role within the culture and,of standards of cultural living constitutes the social side of identity. In addition, there is an optimum ego synthesis to which the. individual himself aspires. The Judeo-Chris-dan tradition and the ideals of the American heritage stress the immeasurable worth of _the individual person. The dignity of the individual, respect for the individual, self-det~rmination these are phrases which attest to our consciousness of the value of personal identity. Each per-son is certain of what is in fact true: that he stands at the center of a unique network of relationships, experiences, influences. He is different and he knows it. Consciousness of the value.of personal identity and a strong sense of personal uniqueness do not,. ho.wever, neces-sarily imply a resolution of the crisis of identity. In some young people, in some classes, at certain periods of history, the identity crisis will be minimal; in other people, classes, and periods this crisis will be clearly marked off as a criti-cal period. There is considerable evidence that in our cul-ture today the identity crisis is of maximal importance, that most individuals undergo a prolonged identity crisis. ÷ ÷ ÷ Identity Crisis VOLUME 20, 1961 349 ÷ 4. 4. Barry McLaughlin, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 350 During this crisis there is a desperate urgency, often con-cealed under the camouflage of social conventions, to resolve the problem of what one should' believe0in and who one should be or become. Three crises follow the crisis of identity; they concern problems of intimacy, generativity, and integrity. What role diffusion is~to identity, its alternative and danger, isolation is to intimacy, egocentric nonproductivity is to generativity, and the lack of consistent values is to integ-rity. When~ the identity crisis is prolonged, these three crises are interwoven with it. The resolution of the identity crisis brings concomitantly the resolution of intimacy, gen-erativity, and integrity crises: A lasting sense of ego identity is the characteristic of the mature adult. The Identity Crisis in the American Culture Victor Frankl, one of the leading .proponents of Ex-istential psychology, has pointed out that Freudian psy-choanalysis has introduced into psych.ological research what it calls the pleasure principle or the will-to-pleasure. Adler has' made psychologists conversant with the role of the will-to-power as a main factor in the formation of neurosis. But Frankl maintains that man is neither dominated by the will-to-pleasure nor by the will-to-power, but by What he'would call man's will-to-meaning; that is, man's deep-seated striving for a higher and~ultimate mean-ing to his existence. Frankl .has perhaps overstated his case; it is more likely a question of emphasis. But the will-to-meaning does re-flect the modern concern with personal identity and, in this sense, is probably as strategic in our time as the study of sexuality was in Freud's time or the study of the drive" for power in Adler~s time. , It is signific~int,-too, that concern with matters of identity is greatest in this country. Psychologists and psychoanalysts recognize th~at in America especially adult patients hope to find in the psychoanalytic system a refuge from the discontinuities 6f existence and a re-gression to a more patriarchal one-to-one system. America has been a melting-pot, a country which attempts to make a super-identity otit of the' identities imported by its constituent immigrants. Previous agrarian and patri-cian identities have been" submerged in the wake of the rapidly increasing ,mdchanization of industrial technology. Frequently the American man has been unable to formu-late his new identity. Depreciation-of.the American way of life is, of course, the favorite indoor sport of cultural critics. The per-tinence of their remarks is not always apparent,.yet in the present context several criticisms'are relevanf. They point out some Of the reasons for the identity crises of con- temporary Americans. From these criticisms we can gain some understanding of the identity crisis of the American man and ultimately of the identity crisis of the (American) religious man. In Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman, Biff'exempli-ties an American "type." Society 'has failed to provide him with a clearly defined role: "I just can't take hold, Mom, I just can't take hold of some kind of life.''1 He-lives in constant frustration, unaware of who he.is or what he is to be. And many psychoanalysts feel thatBiff's number is legion. That Biff should address his problems to Morn is sig-nificant, During World War II the expression "Momism' came :into existence :as a means of denoting a type of per- _~onality commonly :encountered in ybung men. There is ¯ n excessive dependence upon and 'attachment' to, the ,nother, with but feeble' attachment to:the father and no =lear image gained through him of man's role. Psychol-ogists have commented upon the probable roots of this phenomenon: the absence, both physically and psycho: logically, of the father from many American urban, and .uburban homes. Because of the conditions of .ecdnomic ~nd social life, many fathers have neither the opportunity qor the inclination to "take on" their sons in the way that a, as common, for example, in the days of the older patri-archal society. This is the first cause we wish to mention "or the prolongation of the crisis of identity: . the failhre ~,f the father in our culture to give to the son a clear image ,f the masculine personality and the role of man. ~ :~ 'Critics have also noted the American fear of loneliness. Individual identity is sacrificed in an effort to stay. close o the herd, to be no ~different from others in" thought, eeling, or action. To stand aside, to be alone, is t6 assert ¯ personal identity which refuses to be submerged. So-iety will not tolerate this; innumerable social features are lesigned to prevent it: stadiums to accommodate~thou-ands at sport events, open doors of private rooms and of- ¯ ces, club cars on trains, shared bedrooms ih colleges and ,oarding houses, countless clubs, organizations; associa-ions, societies, canned music (for gilence~is unbearable) ,iped~into hotel rooms, railway cars, and supermarkets. Yet one of the surest signs of the resolutio~ of' the iden-ity crisis is an increased capacity for .being alqne, for ~eing responsible for oneself.~The gradual process that ¯ ill end in perfect identity involves 'an awareness of he'fact that there are decisions in life and aspects of life's truggle tha~t a l~erson mu~t fa~e alone. ~o Fgr~. a~ young person becomes dearer in his own mind ,f his role in society and of his personal identity he is a In J6hn Gassner (ed.), Best American Plays: Third Series, 1945- 951 (New York: Crown, 1952), p. 19. Identity, ~risis~ VOLUME 20~ 196~. 4. 4., 4. Barr~ MeLaughlin, $.L REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 352 likely also to become more aware of how he differs from others. Gradually he becomes conscious of his isolation from others, not because others are pulling away but be-cause the fullness of personal identity cannot be achieved without.some degree of aloneness. Here we have a para-dox: the more richly a person lives, the more lonely, in a sense, he becomes. And as a person, in his isolation, .be-comes more able to appreciate the moods and feelings of others, he also becomes more able to have meaningful relationships with them. But the unwritten code of our national culture pro-hibits aloneness, and this is the second causative factor for a prolonged identity crisis: the obstacles our society im-poses to the cultivation'of a sense of personal identity. Finally, we see what the critics refer to as the "deper-sonalization" of man by the mass media. "Man is losing himself," Emmanuel Mounier wrote, "in his handiwork instead ~of losing himself in his consciousness; he has not been liberated.''2 There is much that could be said about these factors and their deleterious effects upon a sense of individual identity; but much has already been said by the critics, What is of primary interest here is that mass media standardize thought by supplying the spectator ~ith a ready-made visual image before he has time to construct a rational interpretation of his own. Man has come to'ac-cept ideas and attitudes without having submitted these to himself for intellectual decision. Man is so much a part of the verbal noise going on around him that he does~not notice what the noise is conveying to him. There are, of course, many other causative factors contributing to our national and individual identity crises Millions of young people face these and other psychologi-cal and social obstacles to identity and transcend them in one way or another. If not, they live, as Captain Ahab says, with half their heart and with only oneof their lungs, and the world is the worse for it, The Identity Crisis in the Religious Life The religious man--and by this is meant the man pos~ sessing a fundamentally God-oriented personalitydis of course, immune from cultural influences. Yet as Erikso observes in his book on Luther,., He is always older, or in early years suddenly becomes older than his pla.ymates or even his parents and teachers, and focuses in a precocious way on what it takes others a lifetime to gain a mere inkling of: the question of how to escape corruption i living and how in death to give meaning to life. Because he e periences a breakthrough to the last problems so early in hit life maybe such a man had better become a martyr and seal his message with an early death; or else become a hermit in a soil ="A Dialogue with Communism," Cross Currents, v. $ (195~ p. 127. i! tude which anticipates the Beyond. We know little of Jesus of Nazareth as a young man, but we certainly cannot even begin to imagine him as middle-aged? This short cut between the youthful crisis of identity and the mature one of integrity makes the religious man's problem acutely intense. In addition, the method of "indoctrination" to which he subjects himself aims at sys-tematically descending to the .frontiers where all ego dan-gers must be faced in the raw, where personal guilt is un-covered, drives tamed by prayer and asceticism, and where, ultimately, self must abandon and transform its own identity. In a sense, only "religious geniuses''4 are cgpable of such an enterprise. Yet the man or woman who enters religious life specifically chooses to face this challenge. Per-haps the most important ramification of the life of the vows is the consequent necessity of mature personal iden-tity. There are those, however, who consider it dangerous, unreasonable, and even in a sense against nature, to com-mit a young person in perpetuity to the religious life. Martin Luther became convinced that religious commit-ment was impossible to a man under thirty years of age. A young man of twenty does not know what th~ future may have in store, what sacrifices he may have to accept. He has only a very general view of what religious life will be and his final renunciation can only be made when he knows in detail and as a whole what such a life entails. Yet St. Thomas held that a person could decide upon a religious vocation years be~fore puberty. This poses a problem which involves more than a ques-tion of the religious vocation. It is concerned 'with one of the fundamental aspects of the problem of life. The ma-ture man is future-oriented; for him life is a continuous whole. In his youth he finds that he must commit him-self to an identity, to a course to which he will remain bound in the future. His acts are weighted with the future. If a man refuses to commit himself, identity becomes im-possible. Marriage and the religious vocation are the two funda-mental forms of commitment. When a man marries he is unaware of the trials and responsibilities'of marriage; he does not know what it is to have a dependent wife and children. But the will to do that which is irrevocable de-pends on the strength of a person's love. A love which is genuine takes possession of the whole of the personality. Then it desires to be irrevocable. This notion of commitment is most perfectly delineated in the thought of Gabriel Marcel: I see it like this. In the end there must be an absolute com- " The Young Man Luther (New York: Norton, 1958), p. 261. 'Jean Dani~lou, s.J., God and the Ways o] Knowing (New York: Meridian Books, 1957), p. 10. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry MeLaugh!in, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 354 mitment, entered upon by the whole of myself, or at least by something real in myself which could not be repudiated with-out repudiation of the whole--and which would be addressed to the whole of Being and would be made in the presence of that whole. This is faith. ObViously, repudiation is still a possibility .here, but ,cannot be justified by a change in the subject or object; ~t can only be explained by a fall? This notion, of personal commitment leaves little room for the so-called "temporary vocation" (which is actually a contradiction in terms), even when this is understood as an actor the permissive will of God which allows a person, for his sanctification, to live for some time as a religious and with religious vows. Although a person does grow and develop as he lives out his commitment, although his in-itial love deepens into a more perfect and more mature love, there can be no possibility of a repudiation. This would be a denim of identity and is only explained by a "fall." These are strong words, and are not, of course, meant to be dogmatic. The nature and binding force of a religious commitment such as life with vows requires much more adequate theological analysis. Yet the problem remains. The religious man must be mature before, his time. Ultimately it is a question of the initial acquisition of what Lindworsky calls the "'voca-tional ideal": Before every man there stands~ a picture of that which he should become; and never will he be fully at peace, undl the ideal shown in that picture has been brought to perfect rgaliza-tion. G This provides a focal' point for personal identity within the religious vocation. Perfect identity is not something acquired in its fullness all at once. It comes at the termina-tion of a long and gradual process of growth. Each step along the way presents new difficulties and necessitates closer scrutiny and deeper meditation upon the nature of the identity chosen. There must be a gradual transforma-tion and identification with Christ. ¯The vocational ideal guides the individual to this new identity within the confines of a life of the vows. Gradu-ally the significance of each vow becombs apparent. Each involves a secondary crisis of its own, a danger to personal identity. Once each of these crises are faced and resglved perfect identity is realized. By his vow of poverty the religious man is thrust once more--thi~ time on a much more conscious and more spiritual level--into the primary crisis of trust. In a real (though qualified) sense, religious experience, as Erikson points out, retraces our earliest inner experiences, giving ~ Being and Having (Glasgow: University Press, 1949), pp. 45-46. o Johannes Lindworsky, S.J., The Psychology o! Asceticism (West-minster: Newman, 1950), p. 15. angible form to vague evils and reaching back to the .~arliest moments of childhood. The child must learn to rust his mother; the religious man ~must learn 'to rust God. Only then can he venture out into the.apparent cold which lack of possessiong m~ans to his natural un- ]erstanding and to his provident instincts. Otherwise he "alls into a new and much worse predicament. When a nan has adopted poverty, he will take daily action to keep dive his trust in God; and from the constantly reiterated :onfirmation ~of this t~'ust, he will draw nourishment "or ~his love of God. Voluntary poverty is an attempt to live so strongly upon he inner surge of love for Christ that external supports :an be reduced to a minimum. It is an attempt to be as ~nuch as possible. It is an incentive for a man to restore ~rder of the right kind to his own life and in his relations o God and his fellows. To he more a man and more truly ~ man, as completely and perfectly a man as~possible~: hat is the purpose of the yow of poverty. Failure to achieve uch an identity is its danger. .Chastity also entails a crisis. Th~ religious community "isks becoming an assembly of old bachelors or old maids, whose egoism is concealed beneath a facade of renunci-ation. The mainstay of the family is conjugal love and the ove between the parents and their children. In tl~e re-igious life it is God alone who is the bond, and the corn-non life cannot be sanctified except insofar as the person, ~y loving God, passes beyond its natural aspects.-The ring of mortification is always there because the affections :stablished between members of a community do not form hat personal link which is characteristic of the family. The religious man finds affection, but this is on a piritual plane, leaving certain sides ofthe human per-onality unsatisfied. Men do not go to religious life to ind what they normally find in the family. There is friend-hip, but basically a religious man's life is in God, and n,God one is alone. Fundamental solitude: God is the ~ortion of his inheritance. Psychologically, this involves a sublimation of the nost radical type, yet Freud himself admitted its possi-bility and its actual fulfillment in St. Francis of Assisi nd others. A new and different identity must be forged. In order to arrive at being everything, desire to be noth-ng," wrote St. John of the CrossF This crisis involves, ~asically, final surrender of self-identity and union and bs0rption into the identity of Christ. The vow of ob'edience entails an equally radical crisis. Fhe religious man's identity threatens to be submerged. The Ascent of Mount Carmel, 1, 13, I1 in E. A. Peers (ed. and rans.), The Complete Work o] St. John o] the Cross (Westminster: ~ewman, 1953), v. 1, p. 62. Identity Crisis VOLUME 20,~ 1961 355 4. 4. Barry McLaughlin, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 356 Existentialist literature especially makes this point: "W~ want freedom for freedom's sake and in every particula circumstance," writes Sartre. "Those who hide their com plete freedom from themselves out of a spirit of serious ness, I shall call cowards.''s Self-identity seems impossibh without the freedom to choose, to determine one's owt conduct and profit or suffer by the consequences. This i a notion rooted in contemporary American Protestan ideals. So much so ttiat William James admitted: It is difficult even imaginatively to comprehend how men po~, sessed of an inner life of their own could ever have come t think the subjection of its will to that of other finite creature recommendable. I confess that to myself it seems something o a mystery? There is a paradox here. When'the religious ma empties himself of his own will (not to other finite crea tures, of course, but to God), at that moment the whol world enters in to fill the vacant space. The saint has n~ particular desires. He seeks only to be allowed to disap pear. He reveals the world to mankind as God has willet it. Yet more than any other man, the saint is responsible He is aware of his obligation to choose for himself. Th terrible duty of the saint is the duty to choose consistentl the "chOice of God. There is one other aspect to the identity crisis in re ligious life, the professional aspect. There are two side to the identity crisis: achievement of personal identity an~ of social identity. We have discussed in some detail th religious man's growth in personal identity. There is als the social role of religious men and women in Americ today, the role of teacher and scholar. Much has been wrftten and much said about the pligh of the American Catholic educational endeavor. We ar concerned here with but one facet of these discussions the undeniable need of Catholic educators to dedicat themselves completely to the subjects they teach. Thi dedication must mean a commitment of the sort which in volves the individual completely in the field he is intel ested in, so much so that he is eager and enthusiastic to se and to contribute to its progress. And since there is fi way to dedicate oneself to learning from the outside, th individual must devote himself totally to his field. A b] stander is too uncommitted. As Father Ong has observed If there is anything that our American Catholic education suffel from, it is the fact that too many of us are not committed enoug to the subjects we profess, not dedicated to them with that tot~ ~Jean-Paul Sartre, Existentialism (New York: Philosophical brary, 1947), pp. 54--55. ~ The Varieties o! Religious Experience (New York: Longma Green, 1909), p. 311. :~ edicati~n which, for us, should be part of our religious dedica- ~on of God Himself, who makes human knowledge to advance.10 It would seem that many religious men and women, who ,ave to a great extent resolved aflm~i~rably the problems of ,ersonal vocational identity, have not resolved the prob-ems of social identity, have not seen clearly their own role s teachers and scholars. Perhaps the opposite is 6ften true, ,ut in either case it is apparent that there is need "for a uccessful resolution of the identity crisis on both levels nd for an integration at an even higher level. ",6nclusion The gyeatness of man consists in his origin, his nobility s a creature, as a child of God. But more than this: there s also his vocation; man is called upon to co-operate with he divine liberty in the creation of his own identity. This nvolves a process of what Dietrich Von Hildebrand calls 'confronting all things with Christ.''n The saint alone ,as solved the identi.ty crisis perfectly. He has transformed fis self-identity into the identity of Christ. Each saint s a pane of glass of a different color through which Christ's adiance shines. But we all are called to be saints. And if maturity is a ,rerequisite to sanctity, the resolution, with grace, of cer-ain psychological crises is necessary. Above all the reso-ution of the identity crisis, usually concomitant with the ,rocess of re-examination and re-evaluation which occurs ,nce the novelty of the early years of religious life has ,assed, prepares the way to sanctity. Each religious, like he saint, must deepen and transform his love. There is a continuity in life which the saint makes nanifest. The child persists in the man; the mature adult ,as grown out of" childhood without losing childhood's ,est traits. He retains the basic emotional strengths and he stubborn autonomy of the infant, the capacity for onder and pleasure and playfulness of the preschool ears, the capacity for affiliation and the intellectual curi- ,sity of the school years, and the idealism and passion of dolescence. He has incorporated these into a new pattern ;ominated by adult stability, wisdom, knowledge, re-ponsibility, strength, and prudence. The saint is not a man apart from, and outside of, the ;retchedness of everyday life. He is not a man in corn- ,union with God and out of communion with other men. ~ecause he lives in close contact with God, because he has onformed his mind to the mind of Christ, the saint is the ~Walter Ong, S.J., American Catholic Crossroads (New York: ¯ *acmillan, 1959), pp. 104-05. n Translormation in Christ (New York: Longmans, Green, 1948), ¯ 74. VOLUME 20, 1961 357 one man who is in communion with us, while all other live apart. This is why the saint is the per[ectly mature individual at once the most sensitive and the most spiritual o[ men The most sensitive because nothing and no one in world finds him unresponsive, since he is always in mediate and loving contact with persons and things. He the most spiritual o[ men, ~or every movement o[ his sonality has its origin in the realization that Christ measure o[ all things, the source o[ his own identity. embodies per[ectly the words of St. Paul: "So we shal reach per[ect manhood, that maturity which is propor ¯ tioned to the complete growth of Christ" (Eph 4:13). Barr~ McLaughlin, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 358 ROBERT F. WEISS, S.J. The Christ of the Apocalypse Toward the end of his long life in the closing years of the first century, our Lord's beloved disciple, the apostle St. John, penned from his place of exile on the island of Patmos a beautiful message of hope and encouragement for the Christian churches. The style: 0f this letter, the last book of the Bible, is apocalyptic; that is, it deals with the revelation made to John of things present and pastas well as future. Its theme 'is the ,triumph of Christ. In images of surpassing beauty, St. John describes for all ages the glorious King of kings. Although it is the same Christ of the Gospels whom we meet here, a great change has come over Him. He is still "like unto a son of man," but He no longer has the weaknesses and limitationS of His humanity. We will see Him in settings of majesty, power, and triumph--all of which are meant to stir up hope, love, and courage for the struggle ahead, for the difficulties and persecutions the Church must always suffer. He has already conquered. This is Christ as He is now, and yet His victory is being constantly repeated. The message is, therefore, one of personal concern for all Christians of every .age. "Blessed be the man who reads this prophecy," says John, "and those who hear it read and heed what is written in it, for the time is near." For each one of us the battle is now raging, and the end of our own struggle is approaching. Christ conquered sin and death long ago; but as long as this world lasts, the conflict goes on. Not until the last day will Ghrist:s triumph be final and complete. But for us, each individual, the time is near and Christ is coming soon. John begins his epistle in a Trinitarian setting, using a salutation much like Paul's as he wishes peace and blessing to the seven churches in Asia from "Him who is and was and is coming"--the Father--"and from the seven spirits befOre His throne"--the Holy Spirit represented by His Robert F. Weiss, S.J., is a faculty member of St. Louis University, 221 North Grand Boule-vard, St. Louis 3, Mis-souri. VOLUME 20, 1961 359 + 4. 4. Rober~ F. Wei~s~ SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 360 sevenfold gifts--and "from Jesus Christ." The full title, Jesus Christ, used here in connection with the other per-sons of the Blessed Trinity, is not used again until the very last verse in the letter. John seems to prefer Jesus alone, in this way emphasizing the humanity of the glorious Christ and His identity with the historical person who lived and suffered. Christ alone as a title occurs only four times. All of these are in the last half of the book in settings of solemnity and majesty and in close association with name of God. John's favorite title for Christ is, as will later, the Lamb, although he also .uses Son of God and Son of Man. The apostle's cast of mind is revealed by the prayer Of praise he offers to Christ at the outset--"to Him who loves us and has released us from our sins." This Christ "has made us a kingdom of priests for His God and Father." Just as Israel when set free from Egypt acquired a national life under its divinely appointed king, so Church, redeemed by the Blood of Christ, makes up a holy nation. As kings, the faithful of Christ will reign all the peoples; as priests, united to Christ the Priest, they will offer to God the Whole universe in a sacrifice of praise. In his magnificent opening vision, John sees the glorified and idealized human form of Christ: a being like a man, wearing a long robe, with a gold belt around his breast. His head and hair were as white as white wool, as white as snow; his eyes blazed like fire; his feet were like bronze, refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the noise of mighty waters. In his right hand he held seven stars; from his mouth came a sharp double-edged sword, and his face shone like the sun at noonday. The garments are the first object to catch John's attention. The figure wears a long robe of the priesthood and girded with the belt of royalty. His snow white hair His eternity, and His eyes blazing like fire repre-sent His divine knowledge. Feet glowing like bronze furnace symbolize His power and utter stability. His voice, which is compared to the thundering rush of a waterfall, and His face, shining like the noonday sun, which recalls the glorious transfiguration on Mount Tabor, give Him a majesty that is terrifying. In His right hand are seven stars representing the seven churches over which He has power and care. It was among seven lampstands that this figure had appeared; they are likewise churches and signify His omnipresence. From His mouth comes the sharp two-edged sword of the word of God which has power to condemn or reward. This is He who is "coming on the clouds, and every eye will see Him, even the men who pierced Him." John is so overawed by the sight that he falls at the feet of Christ like a dead man. But our Lord lays His hand him and tells him not to be afraid. For He is the first and tlie last, that is, the Creator and the last end of all things. He is the Living One, an idea prominent in the tliinking of the Hebrews. Theirs is a living God, not the dead idols of their pagan neighbors. Chi'ist ~a~ defid, crudi~ed; yet here He is alive forever and ever. He has risen from the dead never to die again. More than that, He holds the keys of death and the underworld, over which as God He alone has power. He carries the key of David and thus has ab-solute authority to admit or exclude anyone'from the city of David, the new Jerusalem. He "operis and no one shall shut, and'shuts and no one shall open." This is the Christ of the Apocalypse, infinitely majestic and august. He wiil come in the end seated on a cloud, and with a single swing of His sickle the' harvest of the earth will be reaped. His prhdominant characteristic is unbounded power. Only once or twice, it is said, does the tenderness of Christ's compassion or the intimacy of His fe!lowship with men make itself felt in this book. Yet when it does, it is unexpected and most poignant. Afier rebuking and praising, encouraging the faithful and castigating the tepid, Christ concludes: I reprove and discipline all whom I love. So be earnest and re: pent. Here I stand knocking at the door. If anyone listens to my voice ~and opens the door, I will be his guest and dine With him, and he with me. I will permit him who is victorious to take his seat.beside my father on his throne. In apocalyptic literatur~e Christ is frequently pictured as a judge at the door. Hire the beloved disciple sees Christ not as a judge but as a friend inviting us to :the closest kind 6f intimate companionship. For the Orientals the Lidea of perfect friendship is represented by the notion of taking a meal together. Since it is not uncommon for John to use words with additional connotations, even with a triple meaning, he may well be alluding here also to the Holy Eucharist, in which Christ Himself becomes our food, as ~vell as to the banquet prepared for the faithful in heaven. Even in this setting of gentle and tender intimacy, the glory awaiting the loyal friends of Christ is not forgotten. The place asked by their mother for the sons of Zebedee is to be had by all those who are faithful unto the end. The risen and ascended Christ is all in all to the members of His Church. He loves them; He redeemed them; and He has made them what they are, a new Israel, a kingdom of priests. In the succeeding visions, John prefers to speak of Christ as the Lamb. This is not to be looked on as a photograph or a picture or even as an imaginative'representation. Like the other images used, it is a symbol, a thought-representa~ tion to be taken according to its intellectual content. ~Th~ images are not essential and sho~uld not be retained. The ÷ The Christ o] the Apocalypse VOLU~E 20, 1961 361 + + ÷ Robert F. Weiss, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 362 author wishes to convey an idea, and that is all the image should be used for. He gives us a succession of these sym-b~ Is~rom ~hich he wishes us.to take an idea and then move on to the next. This is especially true of the various qualities ascribed to Christ whom he will repeatbdly iefer to as simply the Lamb. This is not the sacrificial Lamb of Isaiah about whom John is speaking; rather it is the Lamb as a leader. He the strong one, the sheperd 0f the faithful who will guide them.to the springs of living water, the fountain of which is God Himself. It is this Lamb alone who can break the seals and open the book upon which are written the secrets of history-~the story of the great sufferings to endured, the conflict that will rage, and Christ's ultimate and magnificent victory. The Lamb, has seven horns signify His unlimi~ted power and seven eyes as symbols His vast knowledge. As so frequently in the peculiar apoc-alyptic style of this letter, the number seven is used to completeness and plenitude. The Lamb as John sees Him appears as if slaughtered, and yet He lives. He has conquered sin and death. He was slain as a victim, but only the splendid results of sacrifice remain. To Him indeed belong the ~rerogatives of God. He is spoken of more and more, as John's account proceeds, in the same breath with God the Father. He has a share in the works of God. "Our deliverance is the work of our God who is seated on the throne and of the Lamb." In the glorious day of the heavenly Jerusalem, Christ Lamb will reign with His Father. John saw this Jerusalem: the holy city, coming down out of heaven from God, in all the glory of God. It shone with a radiance like that of some very precious stone, like jasper, clear as crystal . I saw no temple in it, for the Lord God, the'Almighty, and the Lamb are its temple. The city does not need the sun nor the moon to shine in it, for the glor~ of God lighted it, and the Lamb is its lamp. The heathen will walk by its. light. The kings of the earth will bring their splendor to ,t. Its gates will never be shut by day--for there will be no night there and they will bring the splendor and the wealth of the heathen into it. Noth!ng unclean will ever enter it. In this day God will make "all things new." The apostle is trying to describe heaven in .this passage using the language of the Old Testament with which his readers were familiar. The essential jo~ of this state of glory is that God will be with those who have remained faithful and they will be with Him. Everything good will also be in heaven, but the presence of God will be everything. God and His Christ are its sanctuary; God's glory will light it; the Lamb will be its lamp. There will be no need for a temple other than God or for the intermediary of religion, for God Himself will be possessed. The Lamb in the day of judgment can be terrible in His anger, and as a shepherd He rules with a rod of iron. But there is an arresting touch of tenderness in the glimpse we are given of the glorious victory to which .He will lead His followers: They are the people who come through the great pe~secuti0n, who haveowashed their robes white in the blood of the Lamb. That is why they are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his :temple, and he who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will never be hungry or thirsty again, and never again will the sun or any burning heat distress them, for the Lamb who is in the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes., Seel God's dwelling is with men, and he will live with them. They will be .his people and God himself will be with them. Those who come through the time of tribulation are those who have washed their :robes in the blood of the Lamb. This symbolic expression includes both the idea of salva-tion through the death, of Christ and theoactivity of-the faithful' themselves signified by the washing. Their reward will be to participate in the worship of God day and night. With typical Hebrew reverence for the name of God, John speaks of Him "who is seated on the throne" rather, than repeat the sacred name: Just as in the land of promise there was to be a cessation of suffering, so in heaven the faithful will be eternally free from all care and want and every sort of mental distress or bodily pain. For the Hebrews water was scarce and very precious; a plentiful source of it signi- ,fled abundance and prosperity. The water here is a symbol of God's grace, and God is its source. John's vision is in terms of the Old Testament prophecy of Isaiah, but now in Christ the fulfillment is assured. There isone other appearance of Christ which must be mentioned, perhaps the most striking vision of all. Before, we saw the temple; now heaven itself is opened, andwe see the magnificent, triumphant Warrior-King followed by the armies of heaven: Then I saw heaven thrown open and there appeared a white horse. His rider was called Faithful and True, and he judges and wages war in uprightness. His eyes blazed like fire. There were many diadems on his head, and there was a name written on him which no one knew but himself. The garment he wore was spattered with blood, and his name was the word of God. The armies of heaven followed him mounted on white horses and clothed in pure white linen. From his mouth came a sharp sword with which he is to strike down the heathen. He will shepherd them with a staff of iron, and will tread the winepress of the

Transcript of an oral history interview with Linnea "Lin" (Peterson) Westberg conducted by Sarah Yahm at the interviewee's home in Nashua, New Hampshire on February 5, 2015, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Lin Westberg was one of the first women to join the Norwich University Corps of Cadets in 1974. Includes discussion of her experiences as a student at Norwich University and her later careers in the Air Force and as a school counselor. ; Linnea "Lin" Westberg (Peterson), NU 1978, Oral History Interview February 5, 2015 Interviewee's home in Nashua, New Hampshire Interviewed by Sarah Yahm Transcribed by C.T. Haywood, NU '12 February 10, 2015 SY: Okay, so let me just start the official interview. I'm here with Linn Westberg. It's—it is February 5th 2015 and I'm at her house in Nashua, New Hampshire. And usually you start an oral history interview from the beginning. So where were you born? LW: I was born in Lowell, Massachusetts. Grew up in Westford, Mass. SY: Excellent LW: Not too far from there. SY: And when you were growing up what did you want to be? LW: Hmm….Originally something in the medical field I think. You know, I didn't really have any great ideas about careers although my mother was pretty, I guess for her time, sort of ahead of the game. She was a lab director of a meteorology lab and she worked for the federal government which back then - so she was sort of the only mom that wasn't in the neighborhood when we were growing up, you know. But I, she managed it kind of like how we all do today. So I think when it was I went to Norwich that I sort of solidified my different goals and career plans. SY: And did you come from a military family? LW: No, that's interesting because I was sort of going through my things when you called a little bit and my dad was not in the military, but both brothers were. So my oldest brother served in the Army, First Lieutenant Jeff Peterson, and unfortunately he was tragically killed while he served at a young age. And he's buried at Arlington. We were just there. My brother—other brother, Greg Peterson, went to Norwich and so he also served. He was in the Army and he did a full career, both active and then as a reserve officer and he retired as lieutenant colonel and he was a helicopter pilot. So… SY: Were they both in Vietnam? LW: Um no, J—my oldest brother, was killed you know while he was on active duty, but not in Vietnam. And then my, the middle brother, 'cause they're quite a bit older than me, the middle brother, he, there's a law where sole surviving sons and daughters do not have to serve if, you know, so he was able to do - he didn't have to go to Vietnam. He was able to fly [clears throat] like he flew in Korea and did things like that, so. And he's a big supporter of Norwich. He went up there on a basketball scholarship and then his son went to Norwich and his wife's sister went to Norwich. So there's sort of this legacy [chuckles] and I think that's pretty common. SY: I think it is too. Do you remember going up and visiting him there? LW: Oh yeah. SY: Yeah what you think? LW: Very much. SY: What was your first impression? LW: So Greg is ten years older than me and I very much, you know, we used to take the old Route 12 up from here before they built all the 89 and everything, and so it was a big trek to go up there. And I distinctly remember going up there that first Parent Weekend with my parents and seeing him at Norwich and you the whole military thing and it really, I mean it really, it was just an amazing thing to see. You know, you'd [he'd] been an athlete in high school went up there on a basketball scholarship, full basketball scholarship, and you know I was kind of enamored with the school but never of thought of it as a place for me at the time. SY: Well, and that's funny 'cause when I interview, I mean I've mostly been interviewing men and I always ask them like, "did you play war as a kid? Did you play military? Did you play army?" And I should ask you that that too. LW: Yeah, I tended to do a lot of kind of boy th— I think I was a tomboy. I remember asking for cap guns and race cars and I never thought really, and I played with all the traditional girl toys too. But yeah I grew up in a neighborhood where there were a lot kids and we went out and we had acorn fights and we played outside for hours at a time. So very, you know sort of busy kind of kinda outdoorsy kinda upbringing. Camping, all those kinds of things. Hiking. SY: So when did you find out that Norwich was taking women? LW: I think it was my senior year. So I had applied to three or four colleges: Wellesley College, which is an all-girls school; Northeastern University that my oldest brother had gone to; and then University of Lowell, which was the local state school. And in, I really wasn't excited about any…I guess it just hadn't hit me and I said to my dad, "I'd like to go up and look at Norwich." And he's like, "No, that's another admissions fee. We're not going up there." And I said, so I kind of begged him and he said, "Alright." So we went up in the [laughs] in the middle of the winter and, 'cause I just remember walking around the campus in the snow. And it hit me right away that's where I was gonna go because I think it was surprisingly, and people are I think who don't know Norwich, it was extremely welcoming environment. So you would think like Wellesley being all-girls or some of these other schools, but I think it's 'cause it's small. So it was about 1500 students and, you know, the professors were friendly. We met the president, and we met the commandant of cadets. It just was, you know, I said, "This is it. This is where I want to go." That's how I ended up there. SY: And did you know you were gonna be in the Corps? LW: No. SY: Okay. LW: No, because women - here were women matriculating prior to me getting there from Vermont College, meaning they were coming over on a bus and taking classes. And then there was a small contingent of women enrolled in the ROTC program who I believe were just kinda coming over for ROTC classes but they weren't in the Corps. So they would wear the uniform one day a week, go to classes, and then back over to Vermont College to live. So sometime between my visit and the spring of my senior year, in that summer, some decisions must have been made. I don't know. Because I got a call over the summer from Colonel John Wadsworth asking me if I wanted to join the Corps of Cadets. I knew, I knew they were women, somehow I knew, because I wouldn't have wanted to do the bus thing from Vermont College. But he asked me if I wanted to join and I said, I mean it was a very quick decis--I said, "Sure, yeah, I'll do that." [chuckle] Honestly, I really had no idea what that meant. I just, I kind of though like everybody was doing it you know. And without like today's social media you weren't connecting with other people so the first I knew was that when I showed up there in August. SY: Did you get this letter? LW: Let me see, "Dear Ms." [chuckles] SY: Yeah, they left it blank, they didn't fill that in, I think it's hilarious. I think that was their prototype. I just found that in the archives yesterday LW: Oh my gosh. SY: in Loring Hart's papers. Pausing to read. SY: But you remember getting a phone call not a letter? LW: I got a phone call, I don't remember this letter actually. SY: Yeah. LW: It could have come, yeah, honestly I don't remember. But I don't know I'd love a copy at some point, that's interesting. SY: Here take it. LW: Oh thank you, SY: It's yours, I have a scan Linn laughs SW: and I just printed it out. I have some other things from the archives too if you want them you can take them. LW: Yeah, that's kind of fun to read, yeah. SY: Yeah. LW: Yeah, I've some newspaper articles too for you. I don't know if you have them, SY: Oh okay. LW: That you can—yeah, sort of the local Vermont papers were kind of interested in what was going on. SY: Oh excellent. LW: Yeah, so I'll share all that SY: Very cool. LW: before you go. SY: So okay, so you show up and you said, "Sure, I'll be in the Corps," right? So then did you have a moment where you were like "what did I get into?" LW: Yeah, definitely. Sort of the first issue was they hadn't told us that everybody showing up was gonna be wearing khaki pants and white shirts. So we showed up in like street clothes. So we already stood out, right, being female. And then to have like really bright clothes, I was like "oh my gosh," you know and then I thought okay this is really interesting. I think my aha moment was definitely in the auditorium or the Plumley Armory when President Hart said, "We'd like to welcome four young women into the freshmen class, Norwich University, you know. 150 years. It was a really nice speech, but we sort of all looked at each other and thought "oh my gosh." SY: Did he make you stand up? LW: I don't remember having to stand up. I just remember feeling really out there, really out there. And my dad was in the back of the room and I was a little worried about him because I was the youngest, my mom had passed away, and I was looking around saying, "oh my God, what's he gonna do?" you know. And he was chatting everybody up and I said, "Okay, he's gonna be fine," and then they marched us up the Hill and you know that's when it really starts. They put you through the whole indoctrination so… SY: And what was— LW: But that didn't seem that unusual because we were just, like they didn't separate us or anything, we were just all part of it. So I didn't feel – and you'd already started, you know, that's where you really begin to connect with the other freshmen. That's really when it starts because you realize you know, okay, the cadre, all these like really mean people and you know when they're not looking you're whispering to each other and you start to connect that way and you know, so. SY: So I somehow thought that women were separated, but you were all tangled, you were all together? LW: Yeah, we were and we weren't. So like that day we were, you know where we went the whole [group went]. But it became pretty apparent that they probably had tried, but hadn't completed like figuring out what we were gonna wear. Because they go, typically freshmen go and they issue your uniforms and so we were getting some uniforms but not all uniforms. SY: Did they cut your hair? LW: We did not have to cut our hair but we had to wear it up. So I came with like hair down to my, you know way down my back, but right away, you know, the Army regulation is above your collar. So we all had long hair and it all had to go up. I think we got white shirts so that improved the whole and whatever we had for pants [chuckles] 'cause the freshmen wore them until they got their uniforms. You wear the khakis. So that was a little bit better but probably one of the biggest challenges was they moved us into Gerard Hall which was the female civilian dorm. And we were put on the top floor upper right corner, upper left corner there, and all the freshmen other women were on the same floor down at the other end of the hall. And that was really weird because we were, you know, going through the whole Rook thing and they weren't. So we'd, you know - but in a way it was we did bond with them as well so it was this dual experience. I mean they were, you know, going out on Friday night and getting dressed up and going out on dates and we couldn't do any of that. So they housed us there for a while and actually our cadre, Nancy whom you've met, and Roberta and Diane Halliday, and there's—I can't think of Mary's last name. So they— SY: Moskos, was it Moskos? LW: That was Roberta Moskos. And Mary - she's in one of the articles - also lived on the floor with us which was also unusual 'cause typically just freshmen males would live to together and maybe a couple of the cadre. And then rest of the upperclassmen would be in the dorm but not on the floor where you're going through that training. So… SY: Yeah it sounds like from when I was talking with Nancy that the relationship between you and the other women who were your cadre was different. LW: Yeah, it was, it was. Yeah I think it was hard for them, yeah this is all in reflection later but I think it was hard for them because they hadn't had full benefit of being freshmen themselves and all that training. But I think they did a really good job trying to do what they were supposed to do. But it was a little more, there was a little more familiarity with them than we would have had certainly with the male cadre. And sometime, maybe November/December, they decided to move us from Gerard Hall over to Patterson Hall and put us in with male freshmen platoon. Got that name right. And so that turned out to be much better because we had, we had freshmen counterparts, males that we were working with every day but we also had sort of these upperclassmen that were supporting us, you know, in addition to like the women cadre. SY: And did you feel sup—'cause I know that the cadre you know that, I mean some of the members of the Corps were like "yay women," and some were not. So how did that play itself out for you? LW: I definitely felt that. For me it was more positive than negative. More support. I think I learned somehow early on that when you're a minority going into that kind of a situation that you somehow, you want to blend to some degree. So, you know, it's much easier to figure things out from within that organization than from trying to fight [chuckles]. Do you know what I mean? So I think I did that, I blended in and I got really active and busy at Norwich. And so then I made a lot of connections and that's how people judge you, based on those personal connections rather than being part of a group. Now people that didn't know us personally, maybe weren't in any classes with us, or that's where you might get a little bit of trouble or they were like from the '50s or something, that whole attitude about women. And there was definitely a few of them floating around. SY: What about professors. Did you feel like the professors welcomed you in their classrooms? LW: Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. My roommate is actually the first woman engineer at Norwich. And so she was in all classes with all males and all those engineering professors. I think she would say they were great, you know, and her classmates were great. My professors were wonderful, very supportive, you know. It's a very stressful year trying to keep up with everything as a freshmen there. You know you have to re—you're just learning so much at once. It's like a double education. You're learning your academic stuff but you're also doing all that military stuff. It's like getting a master's degree in human relations 'cause you're learning all about how people interact, and the way people behave in groups. And it's really - when you're going through you don't recognize it, but later you realize "wow" 'cause you come out. And then when you get to the workforce you're like, "wow that was unbelievable what I learned there." SY: So now that you're a counselor, right? LW: Yeah,. SY: So I'm wondering if you can like take your counselor head and think back on that year. So what was, what sort of psychologically was going on during that Rook year? For you and for everyone? LW: I think, to some degree what went on with us was went on with everybody else. Like we had one girl leave, but there were other freshmen that left, you know, it just wasn't a good fit. Perhaps I think, I—you know oftentimes I look back and go would I do that again? Would I choose to do what I did because it has made everything else so much easier? On the other hand, I look at my kid's college educations and I say, "oh." My husband and I go, "are you kidding me?" They, what do they do with all the free time? They only have like five classes or four. We're thinking they're just you know, so I go "yeah I know, but th—it just," in a lot of ways like a lot more than I've witnessed other people had to do that went to a regular college. So… SY: And what about that sense, 'cause isn't the whole idea of the Rook year to sort of break down individuality and create that sense of a collective. Do you remember that process happening? LW: Very much, yeah. And they absolutely do do that. They take you back to the very the basics, you know… SY: Any anecdotes that you remember, any moments? LW: Oh yeah all that stuff in the halls [chuckles]. Getting dragged out in the middle of the night, having them scream at us. I don't know, you know, going—I think, I don't know, I think I - I remember looking around and looking at the fear on everybody's face because you really, like you think this is real what you're going through. And it's very similar to the military training so it's, it's really in many ways identical I think. But you're dealing with less trained people so and you're dealing with college students meaning age wise as far as being thrown into these leadership positions. So you know, I would say, I remember, I remember walking in the gutter, I remember being pulled out of the meat line a lot which was you know and you had to, they'd scream questions at you from the Norwich Rook Book. But I was a diligent student so I didn't struggle with that, you know reading my book and whatever. There was always somebody else that couldn't answer a question. [laughs] So that was, that was pretty easy. I think the physical stuff was the hardest for me and I found that throughout even when I went into the military because it's really a male model okay? And all they do is sort of cut it back a little bit for women, but it's really designed for men and I think they were trying to figure that out at Norwich. And so in the beginning like when we were running, and when they first put us in the guy platoon to run - and I ran a lot before I went to Norwich 'cause I knew you kind of had to be a little bit in shape - and it was still really hard. So you know the more I got in shape the easier it became, but I could never keep up with the men. So you always felt like a little bit sort of a like a day late and a dollar short. You know what I mean? SY: Did you also feel like you had the responsibility to prove that women could do it? LW: Yes, yeah. But I don't know, you know I think on the other hand I used to think about some of the guys that were having trouble and then thinking like, wow you know 'cause I mean they would they were a little softer on us if we couldn't do it. But they would scream at the guys if they couldn't do it. So that was, so I was very empathetic I think to anybody that struggled because it was just something that was harder for us. It really was. And then you know people were not slouches by any means it's just that it was a different level of fitness than you know I'd been used to certainly. So I think a big, kind of a cool moment for us, we did the Dog River whatever it's called thing, and all of us did really well on that. So we tended to do really well in things requiring stamina and distance and maybe not so well in speed or strength. Certainly I know like my upper body strength, I just didn't have it. Women didn't do push-ups back then, you know, and so, or pull ups or any of that kind of stuff. So I remember that being, that being very challenging and worrying about it like, "Oh my God what if I fall behind? What if I?" You know. That was always weighing on your mind. The other stuff like wearing the uniform, memorizing all of this intellectual pieces were not hard. SY: It was the physical part? LW: It was the physical part. Yeah. SY: Could you talk a little more about that idea of like feeling like you were standing in for a whole group or? LW: You mean like representing women? Yeah I think that's an interesting phenomena and it has made me very sensitive to minorities: religious minorities, racial minorities. Because people tended…I always felt responsible for like whatever I was doing whether it be academically (I know that's ridiculous, but) or how I presented myself is representing not just myself, but like all women. And that's a lot of pressure. So I think, and I think we all kind of felt that way. And I think we also kept an eye on each other like worrying about what they were, other people were doing because particularly we felt super responsible as more women came to Norwich. To make sure, to try to make sure that the path was laid, if you will, and that it was a little bit easier. Because you wanted people to do well, you know, and you didn't want to stand out. You didn't want to, you just wanted to be part of the group, honestly. SY: I'm wondering if you have a memory of like real triumph and a memory of "I want to quit." You know what I'm saying? I would imagine you have both of those. LW: I think that "I want to quit" was they, the whole thing getting recognized thing went on and on [chuckles]. So we did not get recognized till Valentine's Day timeframe. So that started in August and it's like, "Oh my gosh are we ever getting out of the gutter here," you know? It gets to the point where you kind of want to just, you know, be an upperclassmen I guess. And so I think that was like "uh" [sound of frustration] and also when you would see people drop out or struggle or have a hard time that's always very challenging, I think. I loved my classes. I was tired all the time though like you know the professors are trying to keep you awake, because you're up all night doing crazy ridiculous stuff - you know, ironing and doing your brass. I think it's a stamina test in a lot of ways. So I think that's kind of when I was like, "alright." And we did, not my year but subsequent years there were people that would always because it became an option to be a civilian at Norwich. If it wasn't fun people could like [making a noise of pulling the plug] go over to the civilian side, you know. We didn't entirely have that option. I mean I suppose I could have but I was like Norwich is the Corps, you know. Why wouldn't I do that once you're there and you realize that? And then I think probably that same thing I think, you know, graduating from there was a big deal [chuckles]. Graduating with all those guys. That was a pretty, you know, was proud of that. SY: Yeah do you remember how you felt that day? LW: Yeah I was like wow [chuckles], we did this, you know? Three of us made it through from that freshman class. I mean there were only four so that was really good statistics, I think, considering. It was really, every year was groundbreaking if you know what I mean, like women had never held positions of rank, women had never been platoon leaders, women had never commanded a company, women had never, you know, been in ROTC X year. So every year it was the first. So it was wasn't just that first day of Norwich it was all through, so getting through was. But by then, you know, there were women coming behind us so it didn't seem so different. SY: How, was it like to mentor those women coming after you? LW: Well I decided my first year. I, you know, I went back and I didn't and this is another thing that I really learned at Norwich, but coming back I didn't really get involved in sort of the cadre stuff too much. I mean you had to go and apply for these positions and I don't know it was a self-confidence thing but my roommate did, she did and I was like wow I can do that. So I think it was my junior year and I really went for it. I wanted to do like the job that was probably considered the most difficult, and being a platoon sergeant where you're really kind of in charge of a lot of people. And so that, that was, that was a really cool. That was, you know. And that was also the same year, now that was my senior year that - trying to remember. So my senior year I applied to be a company commander and was selected and I've got to tell you you're always sort of like "Am I good enough or they picking me because I'm a woman?" Do you know what I mean? I don't think I felt that way so much but I was always wondering if other people were thinking it [chuckles], "are they doing it because," you know? But I think I earned the respect of my peers so I—once I settled into that and was able to handle it than I felt okay about it, you know? SY: About being? LW: Yeah. SY: In a leadership position? LW: Yeah. SY: And what, I mean I think that something that Norwich does well is it trains people to be leaders to take on leadership roles. So what type of leader did you become, were there models that you were like, "ooh I want be a leader like that" and then other people who you were like, "I don't want to be a leader like that?" LW: Yeah, it's funny you mention that because, um. So when they, so I think I told you my husband's a Norwich grad. So he was actually a junior when I was a freshman and he was one person that I did watch. And it wasn't, it was even before we started dating or any of that, because he was a very sort of honest, you know, just sort of a wonderful supportive person to all of the women. And I thought, but yet he was really respected by everybody. And I think, I think that's the kind of – and he cared about people. So I think that's that perfect blend of a leader, really, somebody who people want to work for because they know that you care about them and you put your, you put them first. And he had actually volunteered to have us in his group. So [chuckles] you know, and so we got to work pretty closely with he and there was… SY: Uh oh hold on. LW: Oh sure, Recording pause and resumes SY: But [coughs] so yeah at the time. So I wonder how your husband felt about women and coming into the Corps? LW: I was asking him I said, "Do you have any memories of this stuff?" I did sort of try to find out like what happened before we came, "Did they train you guys?" He said, "Not much." He felt like it, they weren't really very ready. There was a lot of resistance talked about among the other cadets that he recalls, you know so. I think a lot of the guys that kind of were on our side were the more independent, you know, progressive, kind of thinking kind of people. SY: And what was the resistance about? LW: Women. Just Norwich you know. I think we used to joke "150 years of tradition unmarked by progress." Which really wasn't true because I think they were very progressive in their way. It's just that you sort of you know, I think things happen when things are ready to happen to some degree. I mean women had certainly served in the military, but no woman had gone through a military college prior to what we did. Two years later women were admitted to the service academies and actually we went, we went as a group to West Point and worked with those freshmen. SY: What was that like? LW: They, they were so happy to see us [chuckles]. They were. They had no idea what they gotten into. And I, you know there was a lot of back and forth, I remember because Norwich I think they still send people. There used to be different like, I don't know if history professors set it up, but there were different things you could do, you know, over while you were at Norwich. Or West Point kids, guys would come up to Norwich. And mostly what they experienced is what we experienced and I think we were just there to be supportive. And we talked to the, you know they were actually active Army officers in charge of them. It was very different. It's way more real military. And I came out of there thinking, "Wow you know, Norwich is really a learning lab." I mean they, we didn't have a lot of supervision by Regular Army officers, you know. People were trained, but so you learned as you went, I think, more than having everything spelled out for you. So… SY: Which has its pros and cons, I would imagine? LW: Yeah, well sometimes your—but you know, it's funny, because human behavior is human behavior, you know? But I think they were very watchful to make sure that nothing really negative has, we didn't really have any horrifically negative experiences I would say. At least none that I personally experienced or that would be any different than anyone at a college, you know. But, yeah I would say and it's probably still a problem, I mean how trained is somebody after one year in the Corps of Cadets? You know, so. But I think they're mindful of that and oversee it. I mean, I'm talking about the adults, the staff, the professional staff at the college. And it was helpful to us, they brought in a woman she—she was. she became the Dean of Women. So my first year they brought in a, her job was to kind of I think oversee and look out for us and help with any kind of issue that came up. SY: Oh her name, what was her name? LW: Nunez de Cela. SY: Yeah. LW: Yeah, and actually I have a nice letter from her. SY: Really? LW: Yeah, that I'll show you, SY: I'm wondering if you could read it. Is it long? LW: Where is that letter? [recorder turns off and then turns back on] SY: So let's talk about that letter. LW: Oh, you want me to read the letter? SY: Yeah, yeah I think you should 'cause there's something, it's very respectful and I like the way she talked to you, yeah. LW: Okay, so this is a letter dated February 13, 1975, wow. Dear Private Peterson: At the Recognition Dinner last night I wondered how many of the Rooks, cadre, and staff, realized how different your experiences as Rooks have been from those of the male cadets. Well different they have been no less valid, in many ways yours has been the greatest contribution made to Norwich this year. It is a comfort to follow an established pattern of behavior created by 156 years of tradition. It is a comfort to have leaders who are experienced in guiding new students through the mazes of those behavioral patterns. And finally it is comforting to know exactly where you're headed and what to expect when you arrived there. For you there has no such comfort. From the first you've have had to share the rather awesome responsibilities for the future, not only for your future but also for that of the women who will follow you and of the University as a whole. Your training period demanded maturity from the very first. More than any other Rooks this year you have had the courage and the determination to be first. To make Essayons a reality. As you might well guess the old lady is very proud of you. Best wishes for continued success. Sincerely, Nadine Nunez de Cela, Dean of Women, Assistant Commandant, Norwich University. SY: That's awesome, and she had no military background, did she? LW: I don't think so. SY: Huh, so and what happened to her? LW: [sighs] She was there for a few years. And I was telling you earlier that they decided it would be beneficial to bring in an active Army officer into the ROTC detachment, which was a pretty good move on their part. I will say they were, I think they were forward thinking. I really felt that way. Just, there were always lots of questions everything from well when do you wear this uniform? You know nobody was really familiar with women's uniforms [chuckles]. So I think having somebody there and who had some connections in the Army and who'd been through all of that and in her own way. I mean she was a major at the time, so that was, so I think she's sort of became, I guess you would call it more of the informal. I mean, she was really a regular ROTC instructor but I think her side job was to help us where we needed help and help us pave the path I guess. SY: Yeah [coughs] so did you plan on commissioning? LW: When I was at Norwich, yes. So once I got there I decided that I really liked it, the military lifestyle which I had really had not thought about. There were no role models for women honestly, out there in the world. I mean unless you had a military parent or something, you know. Even though my brothers served it still wasn't something women did in any quantity, and it certainly wasn't in the media. But I really liked the lifestyle once I got through that freshman year and I thought, "Okay, this would be kind of cool," you know, a career. And then, then I met my future husband and he was two years ahead of me and getting a commission in the Marine Corps. So I could not figure out how this was gonna work. So I left the Air Force ROTC program and started to pursue Marine officer commissioning. SY: So what was that like? LW: So it was like, okay I had to go take the officer qualifying test, did all of that which was not easy, because it was definitely a male geared test. [chuckles] It was all like angles and it was a very interesting test. It wasn't anything like the Air Force qualifying test. So that was hard, but I did it. And then so basically I graduated from Norwich and I got married like a week later, and then I left after my honeymoon for Marine Officer Candidate School in Quantico, Virginia. And when I landed there, I realized that this was a first, that no women had gone through Marine OCS with the men. So we were, and prior to that actually I—my husband had connected me with some women and they made it sound like so great, "Oh they teach you how to wear makeup," and "oh you know." It sounded very fluffy. Well it wasn't [laughs]. When I got there it was terrible, oh my gosh it was. I mean they were really out to prove something. So there were fifty women that started with me in this platoon. And imagine I'd already been through Norwich so this was, like the guy was yelling at my ear, but I was like you know that didn't bother me, none of that. The physical stuff was crazy and so each day somebody was getting hurt. So by the third week, like I want to say a third of the women were gone. And so everyday you'd wake up and go it was like okay whose gonna, you know fall off the obstacle course or so. I ended up dislocating my knee which was a minor injury compared to other people. Rehabilitated there and they wanted to cycle me back through and I said, "You know I just don't think I'm cut out. You know I'm not cut out for this." So that was, you know, and then I think I told you a little bit about my story. I later ran into my classmate and decided, you know, I still wanted to serve so went to officer training for the Air Force and I did get commissioned there in June of '80. SY: And it seems like you were like this is crazy I want out. It doesn't seem like you were angsty about it, it doesn't seem like you were like or were you? LW: That I was what? SY: Like you were self-hating about not making through the Marine Corps training? LW: No, I mean, that day I fell off the um, you know, got injured. I was definitely disappointed 'cause I, I thought it was gonna work as far as the two of us being able to be stationed together and you know I still wanted that military career. But I knew that, you know it's interesting because that experience, because there's been lot of conversation later about women serving in combat. And that experience showed me that you have to be a very unusual woman to serve in an infantry combat role. Now, serving in combat can mean a variety of things. You know Air Force pilots are in a plane. It's very different than humping like we were fifty pound packs and rifles and heavy boots and you know you're just smaller physically. The only female that was doing really well was my bunkmate. She was a black belt in karate before she got there. So she was already like super fit. And frankly everybody was like "Get me out. This is like too much." I think they've improved that a lot, you know, I think they learned a lot from that first class. But no I didn't, I was just like, just this isn't… SY: And they weren't rooting for you either? LW: I didn't feel that way. No. SY: Yeah, LW: No. SY: So, okay, so what was the Air Force training like? LW: [laughs] The Air Force is, well physically it's not as demanding. I mean you have to do things like I had to train to run a mile and a half in twelve minutes which is no joke. I had to get up every morning with a bunch of people. You know we would go out and do that and practice. It's a lot of, the Air Force is a huge organization and in a lot of ways I think of it like a business. You're learning all facets of that organization, so it's a lot of classwork actually. You're learning about the mission, you're learning discipline with the marching and the keeping your room clean and all of that. But after Norwich that was a breeze. I mean it was just like go through it, you know. And but there, there were a couple of turning points for me. I had a captain who was my squadron commander and I had applied - so your first six weeks you're sort of in the training mode. Your second six weeks you're in the leadership mode. And you apply for these different positions and I had said, "Oh maybe I'll be the woman liaison officer." So if you can see where women were thinking, okay? And he looked at me and he said, "No," he said, "I want you to apply to be the wing commander," which was the top job and I was like, "Oh you're kidding. I can't do that." He goes, "Yes you can." He said, "I've been watching you for six weeks. That's definitely what you should do." So it took somebody else to tell me that I could do that. And I applied and I got the second position. And so that was that was, that was very conf—that was a huge confidence builder. So, but Norwich had kind of laid the groundwork and then here I was in another situation and it was that person that kind of reached out to me. And so I learned that that's like, I like to do that for people. SY: Yeah, and so have you done that for people? LW: Yes, tried, to, where I see strengths you know you try to point it out. That's how we learn. We learn from other people and how they treat us, right? SY: Yeah it's true, LW: When you think about it yeah, so…. SY: So tell me about your career in the military, so where'd you go next? LW: So then they to another school, so I became. I went to a school Biloxi, Mississippi and I had gone into the Air Force from Guam because that's where my husband was stationed with the Marine Corps, and really wanted to go back there obviously. So this short, small window that opened when I went in was to put officers into flight squadrons to sort of deal with all the administrative details that needed to be dealt with. So that so I went to a school to learn how to be an ex— they called an executive officer and I showed up on the island of Guam for my first assignment at Andersen Air Force Base, walked in with my orders to do that. And they're like "Oh we already have a guy here that's doing it. We're gonna send you over to the maintenance squadron." So I spent a year and a half working in B-52 maintenance squadron which I loved. I loved being on flight line. That was fabulous you know. SY: So did you learn how to fix B-52s? [laughs] LW: No, but all the guys in the squadron that's they did. And women. So I was more, you know as an officer you oversee all of that but you're not turning the actual wrench yourself, you know. So but I just loved it. You're up early, you know, watching the planes take off, watching the guys load them. And making sure that they have everything they need to do their job basically. That's sort of. And while I was there I had an opportunity to work for a general officer, I became a general's, what they call an aide-de-camp. So I worked for him and that was a first, you know, and that was kind of an unusual job I think. So I traveled with him and his entourage, I guess you could call it, and got to do. And I went into the office and became a protocol officer. So we handled all the visiting dignitaries. I got to meet like George Bush, and congressmen would come through. Because this was a big airstrip in the middle of the ocean and they had to refuel so we entertained them all as they came through. But that was fun. SY: And were you living on base with your—? LW: Ah no, yeah we lived, my husband was stationed at the Marine Corps barracks. I was stationed at Andersen and we lived in the middle at the Naval Hospital housing. So we lived with all the Navy doctors and nurses, and dentists and… SY: And I would imagine you had sort of a weird position, like I wonder how you interacted with sort of the Army wives on base. LW: That's…. SY: Weird? LW: Yeah. Ah yes. Well it, not so much on the Air Force base but the mar— so I was part of the Marine Officers' wives club [laughs]. So I would go to work and do my Air Force thing but I loved all these women and so, you know, we had a great time. It was very international group of women, all nationalities that these Marines had met in their assignments all over the world. We just had a great time. Everybody is young, no kids. But we did all traditional wifely things you know. Became very, very, close-knit to that group, as well as all the Air Force people so it was sort of the best of both worlds. And we loved our medical neighbors. It was a fun two years. A lot of good traveling 'cause you're very close to everything in the Far East. So and then from there I went to, I wanted to just, my husband was getting out of the service so I just wanted to find a big city to be stationed in so he could start his career. So we ended up in Denver and he started a civilian career and I worked there in an Air Force training squadron and kind of worked my up to become a squadron commander there which was a great job, because I learned how to be in charge of large groups of people trying to accomplish a mission. That was fun. The location was fun, the people were fun, so I really enjoyed that. Once again had a, you know, some female experiences if you want to call it that. I came in, when I was first assigned there, there was a black first sergeant and he was tough. And I could tell he was like "uch" a woman, and he made some comment like, "Oh I don't think I really want to work for a woman," and I said, "What if I said to you, I don't want to work for black guy?" And he was really taken aback. I don't think, I don't know what he expected from me but we after that we hit it off perfectly [laughs]. It was just I came at him the way he came at me and he knew I wasn't going to fool around and he took care of me and watched my back. You always say that about a good NCO, they watch your back. Even planned my promotion ceremony so, you know, but it was. But I knew how to handle him because of Norwich, you know. I knew, like I don't know what another woman would have done in that situation coming in cold not having worked with all men for four years at Norwich. SY: So what is the skillset? Is it just being direct? Is it just being clear? Is it not being bullied, like what is it? LW: Yeah I think its self-confidence, the way you present yourself that people respect. Yes, and it's also not being bullied. Frankly [clears throat], it's really easy and it's not just for women, but it's really easy to get taken advantage of or get pushed around. It's recognizing when that's happening and asserting yourself and sticking up for yourself and that's nothing that I was born with, I learned all of that. I mean I tell my students now in class, you know I told them 'cause I teach a guidance class, that, you know, the way you present and carry yourself is really how you're gonna be treated. You're gonna be treated the way you demand to be treated, so don't let people do that to you. And that held true in business. Let's face it business is still majority of men and it held true in the military. It holds true everywhere I think, so you know. SY: Yeah, did you see other women [coughs]. Sorry, did you see other women when you were in the service who like didn't have that skillset? Did you see women being bullied or harassed or situations like that? LW: You know it's funny I definitely dealt with some difficult situations, but the few that I dealt with did not involve military women. It was some civilian women. But, you know, I came right to their aid if I thought I saw something going on that was inappropriate, and made sure it was handled and taken care of and made it clear that it wasn't gonna be happening. And I think that makes a big difference, you know. I think most women that are in the military going through the training gives them a pretty good skillset, you know. Unless they have come to the military with issues or something, but the training, meaning mental health problems or other things like that. I think for the most part you know the training is good and it teaches you know teaches you those things like how to, how to lead, how to take care of yourself, how to do what you need to do. SY: Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. I'm just gonna go look at my questions. LW: Sure. SY: While I'm doing that why don't you tell me about the Iranian students? LW: Yes, so the Iranian students came in I want to say around 1980 , so I would have been like a sophomore, junior. And they came in in a pretty large number. I mean, and they came in with you know a lot of money. It's really interesting to drop these - they were young, college age kids - in the middle of Vermont. And they really didn't, it was interesting, I think it was true culture shock for them to have, because what happened was my senior I had a, I was a company commander so I had a lot of the Iranian students in my company. And at first they were like "aah" you know they didn't want anything to do with women being in charge of anything. But they came around because they didn't have a choice. But then you know the whole overthrow then they disappeared. And I'm trying to remember when that happened. And they left all of their belongings. SY: Were you there when that happened? LW: Yeah. SY: It was '80 I think . LW: 1980, yeah and some of them defected. I mean some of them went to Canada, some just disappeared into Vermont and I think some went back. SY: Do you remember, I hear there was like a flea market where they were selling all their stuff, do you remember that day? LW: They didn't, a lot of it was left [chuckles]. I mean they left very expensive stuff in their rooms and just left, you know. I think the ones that were afraid and didn't want to go back they didn't care, they were just out of there. But yeah, I'm sure it was, you know, I'm sure. I didn't buy anything but I'm sure there, I'm sure that probably did happen. But yeah, I remember some kids driving Corvettes and you know they were there on full scholarship with big stipends and obviously were the crème de la crème you know. You didn't get out of the country and go to school in another country then if you weren't somebody, so. SY: And what about the Iranian women cadets? Did you know any of them? LW: I did not, that must have been after me or something because I don't remember any women being there, unless I'm just… SY: I think there were a couple, LW: Were there? SY: But maybe just a couple. LW: Yeah that I don't remember. SY: Yeah, yeah and I think they were also integrating their, the navy there. so yeah. LW: Oh okay. SY: Did you know Bizhan? LW: No. SY: That's interesting. He was, I think he was supposed to be class of '80 LW: Okay. SY: He now runs FacOps at Norwich. LW: Oh! SY: He happened to have, he had a different visa than the other cadets because he was like, "I don't think I want to be in the navy anymore," so he was technically out of the navy. LW: Oh. SY: He was able to stay, LW: When this all happened? SY: Right, when everybody else left, yes. LW: Okay. SY: He watched all his friends leave. And do you remember the news of that when you were on campus? LW: You know Norwich, there was never any news [laughs], It was, you were in a bubble, you know. So I think what we knew was what we witnessed and saw and people told us, and I don't remember reading about it, and we certainly didn't have televisions in our rooms [laughs] or anything or you know. We had WNUB but… SY: Right, but that's— LW: Pretty isolated. SY: Yeah, it's funny when I've been interviewing the Vietnam era folks they say the same thing. And it drove them crazy. LW: Laughs SY: They were like I'm - LW: What's going on? SY: going to go there and I don't know what's happening [coughs]. I guess I'm wondering how your Norwich education affects your life today. LW: Well it has affected my life ever since being, um, time management, huge, how to get a lot done in a short amount of time. I think knowing what's important meaning like I watch people get upset and stressed a lot at work about things that I don't think are that worth worrying about. Because I always go to that place like, 'cause over the years when you serve in them military you meet a lot of people that did serve in very unsavory conditions, or had family who had died, or you just heavy duty stuff and so I kind of look at the world from a different perspective and I think it started at Norwich. It helps me in my work every day because I think my perspective is just, you know, I think. One thing that's been interesting, I think my years in business were easy because of Norwich, because what I know about working with males which is different, it really is, behaviorally, the way they think. …But of course I met my wonderful husband. You know I always say that's why I went to Norwich [laughs]. SY: To get your M-r-s. [in a joking tone]. LW: Well no, I had no intention of really. You know there were women that dropped out and got married and I was like "I would never do that. Never." And, but no just the fact that I met him and we're married all these years later, it's just been a wonderful marriage and so I was lucky 'cause I look at it like when I said to my dad that day, "No," I begged him "let me go look at it." You know I did meet Jim there, so that's huge. SY: That's huge. LW: That affects my life everyday [chuckles]. SY: So, okay, so you were in the military for a while. LW: Yup. SY: And then when did you retire? LW: So I did eight years. So in 1988 I got out and I was stationed at Hanscom Air Force Base, that was my last assignment. And I had crossed trained into, like at the end when I was in Denver I said "I need to find a career that I can do on the outside." And my colonel let me go to Contracting Officer School which is a great program. I mean I went to a lot of different schools to become a contracting officer, and did that at Hanscom. So I did like major weapons systems acquisition which is very transferable to the outside. Got out mostly because I had had my first child. I still loved the work but the Air Force had said they'd wanted me to go to Air Command and Staff College at Maxwell Air Force Base, and it's a ten month school, and I just I couldn't leave my son for ten months and go down there. So I said, "Okay, now's the time I'm getting out." Stayed home with him but then was able to take those skills and I worked at a engineering company for quite a while, eight years I guess doing contract negotiation for them. So, you know and did the whole mother juggle thing [chuckles]. SY: Yup, and when did you retrain to be a counselor? LW: A counselor? So when my second child came along it got a little more challenging for me to balance everything the way I wanted to do it. So I stayed home with my daughter Caroline. I guess I worked for a couple of years and then was home with her. So when she got into late middle school I decided—then I was like okay I'm going to go back to work here. What do I really want to do now? Researched a bunch of things, decided to take a course and just see if I enjoyed it, and just fell in love with the field. I think if Norwich had had psychology I would have majored in that but they didn't have that major. And so went back and that was great because I was still home, but I was going to school, and then when she went to high school I was able to find a position as a school counselor. That's what I'm doing now. SY: And you love it. LW: I do. SY: Excellent! LW: Yeah, yeah. SY: One other question, LW: Yeah. SY: And then I don't know if I have any other real questions, you know again I've been reading these books and memoirs by women in the academies. And they talk about this push and pull between sort of trying to blend in and trying to sort of seem as masculine as possible and also wanting to be seen as feminine and as like a potential partner and how did you juggle that? LW: I never wanted to be masculine. Like I always knew I was, you know I never really, but it, but it's a struggle. You know so there's the physical traits in how you carry yourself, but there's also just the, kind of the way you think and the way you approach the world. There's masculine and feminine, right, ways to and I think I just tried to stay true to myself I think in who I was. You know but I mean, yeah, the uniforms were not attractive [chuckles] you know? And the civilian girls always looked so awesome! We were like "Oh my God where'd they ever find these shoes, these black tie shoes?" We would laugh about it/ You had to have a lot of like self-confidence, you really did, because c'mon, you know? SY: And when you went to the Regimental Balls were you allowed to wear dresses or did you have to wear your uniforms? LW: That's interesting 'cause I think it was my first year that I went we were allowed to wear dresses. And I had to borrow a dress 'cause I didn't, you know, from one of the civilian women. She had beautiful gowns and so we all got one from her I guess. But then I was looking through my yearbook and there's a picture of me and I think they changed the rules and we had to wear, and we weren't happy about that. But yeah you know, you're yeah the same but different, let's face it, right? You know I certainly didn't want to wear that Army uniform to the Junior Week or whatever it was, but we all did, you know? SY: Right, of course. LW: Yeah. And I, the pictures [chuckles] so here you go again. So I was on the like the court they picked a queen and I mean, I can't—I don't know if they still do all that. SY: Oh, right I meant to ask you about that. You were Homecoming Queen? LW: Homecoming Queen, yeah. But the picture's of me in the uniform so I'm like was I really picked or was that [laughs] but yeah so that I believe… SY: Who was Homecoming King? LW: Well that, that was different, the All-American Homecoming Queen thing that was, I'm, George Turner, do you know that name? So he was like I think he was head of public relations or something. His wife was the librarian for a number of years. Big sports enthusiasts. SY: I do know that name. I do know him, yes. LW: He wrote a nomination for that and so there were fifty college women. We all came together. It was a pretty cool experience actually and went to Florida and were in the Orange Bowl Parade and the whole. But that was, it was more, it wasn't like, I didn't have to do anything to get that let's put it that way. [laughs] I didn't win anything or achieve anything. I think it was, you know, hey take the opportunities though when you get them, right sometimes. SY: Right, yeah, exactly. So then there are just some questions like do you think about service? Did Norwich teach you to think about service? Do you think about this idea of the citizen soldier? If these are ideas you relate to, great. If they're not ideas you relate to that's fine [laughs]. LW: No they're ideas that I relate to. That's the first thing they talk to you about, and you don't know what that is. Today kids do. Then I think we did it, you know my parents had me in Girl Scouts, and going to church and all of those things, but you didn't conceptualize that that was being a good citizen. And the whole idea of a citizen soldier, which is really the foundation of Norwich, and absolutely carried that all the way through. That is part of being in the military. It's who you are and so raised our kids that way. We're both that way. I just think it's part of yeah, you know. And it becomes ingrained in you like that's how you believe and want to live your life. It's part of you know, it's part of what's important and in fact I think somewhere in the museum there's a beautiful plaque and it—I took a picture of it when I was up there. But that's what it was, you know, to be able to serve that's what it is. That's what service means being in the service. SY: And did you, I wonder if you feel like your job now is similar in terms of service, do you feel that way? LW: Oh yeah, I look at my job actually as a paid volunteer job. So even when I wasn't working, and that's how I actually had to convince them to take me in my interviews because I hadn't worked for a number of years and breaking back into the work force. But I said, I haven't been sitting at home, this is what I've done which was everything from I mean, involved in a lot of fundraising and different things. And so yes this is, this is something I would do even if they weren't paying me. So yeah, it's that kind of work and I'm fortunate to be able to do it you know. SY: Yeah, absolutely. LW: Yeah. SY: So any last thoughts? LW: No, I'm just, you know, every year when I go up I'm happy to see more women in the Corps of Cadets. And I'm happy to see, you know, that they've had a regimental commander. Like women to me appear very blended in. I always love watching them in the parade and I try to catch up with them when I'm there and just say, "How is, what's going on, what's it like, what's it like for you?" They're always shocked when I tell them [laughs] I'm in the first class of women, you know, and they have a lot of questions. They're curious, really curious about that. And I always look for the girls with the white name tags, 'cause I know they're freshmen, you know at least the Rooks. If I go up for like an Alumni Weekend just to check in they're like "really" 'cause I think it's in the Rook Book or something, I don't know. SY: I wonder if when we do this exhibit if we should have an event which is an opportunity for women in the Corps now to talk to previous women in the Corps. LW: Oh yeah, that would be great. SY: That would be great. I think, I think I'm gonna suggest this to my boss tomorrow, 'cause I think that would be fabulous 'cause I think there's probably a real hunger to talk about it and have a sense of how things have changed and how they're the same and… LW: Oh yeah, yeah, absolutely, there's a lot of people out there that you know I think Norwich is truly I mean my first job out of the military I got through a Norwich connection. It's just the way the college is and I think the more anyway you can connect. And I think even women going into business out of there or into education or into nursing or into engineering there's alum that have gone before them that are willing to, you know, to help them out so yeah that would be kind of fun. SY: Yeah that would be great. LW: Kind of fun, yeah, SY: That would be, that would be exciting I think. Okay cool, I'm gonna press stop but…

The College Mefcufy. Toh. iv. GETTYSBURG, PA., MAY, 1896. No. 3. THE COLLEGE MEfiCUfiY, Published each month during the college year by the Students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. STAFF. Editor: D. EDGAR RICE, '96. Associate Editors : EDNA M. LOOMIS, '96. GRAYSON Z. STUP, '96. ;IENRY W. BIKLE, '97. WEBSTER C. SPAYDE, '96. ILLIAM E. WHEELER, '97. HERBERT D. SHIMER, '96. ROBBIN B. WOLF, '97. Alumni Association Editor: REV. D. FRANK GARLAND, A. M,, Baltimore, Md. Business Manager: WILLIAM G. BRUBAKER, '96. Assistant Business Manager: E. A. ARMSTRONG, '97. m™™. /One volume (ten months). . . . $1.(10 limns. |slngiecopies . . . .15 Payable in advanco. Ml Students are requested to hand us matter tor publication. The Alumni and ex-members or the College will tavor us by fending Information concerning their whereabouts or any Items hey may think would be Interesting tor publication. &U subscriptions and business matters should be addressed to he business manager. {Matter Intended for publication should be addressed to the Editor Address, THE COLLEGE MERCURY, Gettysburg, Pa. CONTENTS. DITORIALS, 32 JEED BUT NOT FREE, 35 ETURN OF PERSEPHONE. 37 HAD TO Go, 38 OLLEGE I.OCALS, 38 LUMNI NOTES, 41 THLETICS, 42 MATERNITY NOTES, 43 OWN AND SEMINARY NOTES, 44 ■ITERARY SOCIETIES, - - - • 45 EDITORIAL. With this number of the MERCURY the pres-ent staff completes its editorial work, and gives it over to its successors. Although the duties of our position have at times been trying, and there is a feeling of relief comes with the thought of being freed from them, yet the pleasure and profit connected with the position have been great, and the training and experi-ence have been well worth the trouble. We can hardly hope to have pleased all in the discharge of what we have considered our duty, but whatever failures of this kind may have been made are not chargeable to an ab-sence of the desire to please. Neither have we measured entirely up to the standard we had placed before us, and yet considering the small support which the staff receives from the student body, we believe they have done all that could reasonably be expected of them. The greater part of our support has come from members of the lower classes, and we hope that those who have begun to take an interest in the MERCURY will not grow weary, but will make even greater efforts in behalf of the new staff. The MERCURY, it must be remembered, is almost the only representative of the college among our alumni and other colleges, and to make a creditable showing it requires the hearty co-operation of all. * * * THE recent cowardly attack on two of our students, in which both were seriously injured, the one possibly being permanently disabled, is but an extreme case of the danger and in-sults to which we are daily exposed on the streets of Gettysburg. The students never molest any of the people of the town nor make themselves disagreeable in any way, and yet it is a very common occurrence for them to be 33 THE COEkEGE MERCURY. made the objects of insulting language, and sometimes even of personal injury. In winter, when there is snow on the ground, they are constantly made the targets of the small boy with his snow ball, and it becomes absolutely dangerous to walk along the streets, even when the supposed guardians of the peace are in full view of all that is occuring. The students expect nothing more of the town officials than protection in their rights to walk the streets unmolested, and if the authorities are too careless to guarantee these rights, it is time that strong steps be taken, and an example be made of some one. It is to be hoped that the perpetrators of the recent outrage be punished with the full penalty of the law, and that the rough element of the town be shown that even though only stud-ents, we yet have rights which the authorities are bound to protect for us. We do not de-sire to incur the enmity of any one, but we feel that our rights should be defended, let the consequences be what they may. * * * As we look forward to the end of the term, the query presents itself, what kind of a com-mencement will we have. It is a fact which must be admitted, that for the last several years there has been a noticeable lack of in-terest in the exercises of commencement week. Fewer of our alumni attend, than were present on former occasions, and some who come on special business, leave again before the final exercises. The students who remain feel more as if the college were closed for some sad occasion than that they are celebrating the close of another year's work. It is rather hard to acconnt for this lack of interest, but we are inclined to believe that it is due, in part, at least, to the regretable want of harmony which exists in the church in re-gard to Pennsylvania College. For one who is not very familiar with the inner workings of the matter it is by no means easy to see the good which is being done by this division of opinions, and even less easy to decide who is in the right. Of one thing, however, we feel quite certain, and that is that the sooner a compromise of some kind is effected, the better it will be for the college. Our institution is not in a condition at the present to remain un-injured by a conflict which is so fundamental, and the small attendance at commencements is not the greatest of the evils which arise from it. Another possible reason which may be of-fered as explaining the decline in the interest of commencement has been the lack of spirit of our students. All seem to be content to move along in an uneventful way, without an effort to enliven things. There are hopeful signs, however, that we are gradually awakening, and we believe that the students will do what they can this year to add to the pleasures of the week. Preparations are being made for field day sports, and the outlook is quite en-couraging. And in this connection we would again suggest that arrangements be made by the alumni to have several class reunions at that time. We have received several letters from alumni, urging this matter strongly. THE sixty-fourth annual catalogue of the college has recently been issued in its usual good form. The enrollment shows a very en-couraging increase, and we believe it is only twelve less than the highest enrollment we j have ever had. The college and graduate de-partments have the same number as last year, with an increase of ten in preparatory, making the total 227. As the Senior class this year is less than half the size of last year's class, the prospects are that next fall the number of | students will be greater than ever before. A noticeable improvement in the catalogue I is that the street address of students living in the town is given, instead of simply the name of the family with which they live. We would also call special attention to the description of the new course in anatomy under Dr. Stanley, which has been added during the last year. We are pleased to see that the MERCURY has I THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 34 [for the first time received a notice in the cata-logue. CONSIDERABLE dissatisfaction has been ex-pressed among the students with the careless way in which our athletics are being con- I ducted. Of the three games of base ball we have played thus far, we have succeeded in winning but one, and that was almost en- Itirely through the work of our pitcher, who [did so well as to leave the fielders very little to do. Of course, defeats are to be expected, and i are excusable when suffered at the hands of stronger teams, but when it is plainly seen that they are the result of want of practice, jthey are not excusable. The principal cause of complaint is that the practicing of our team is not done at all sys-tematically. Instead of being arranged in their positions, and required to do regular ' work, the players are allowed to do almost as they please, and only the better players get the practice, while those who need it most are being neglected. If the team wants the sup-port of the students, it must get down to work, and at least show that it is making its best ef-forts. Then if defeat comes it will be excus- ! able. About the same criticism is applicable to the [relay team which was sent to Philadelphia on ; April 25th. The general sentiment of the students before the race was that we had very poor hopes of winning, and the reasou for thinking so was that the team did not have sufficient practice. Since the race we are in-formed that if better preparation had been made, we would have had good prospects of winning. It may be consoling to think that, [but we feel that it shows very poor manage-ment to go to the expense of sending a team [to the contest, when we were conscious before-hand that it had not had as much practice as it might have had. It surely does not help our reputation much to enter the contest and Icome out in third place. It would have been much better to remain out entirely. If our athletic association would have a full treasury, it might be able to furnish these lit-tle pleasure excursions to its members, with-out seriously noticing it, but with the heavy expenses of our new athletic field on our hands, and when all our students are doing what they can to remove the debt, it looks like extravagance to incur the expenses of the relay contest, when no one expected our team to win. It is little wonder that the students are unwilling to make sacrifices for the athletic field, when so little economy is used in dis-pensing the funds contributed. We think that until this debt is paid, the management should be careful that every cent goes where it will do the most good. * * * IF an)' one has, from any reason, gone through college with an inadequate prepara-tion, it is his duty to warn others against this evil. Some may plead lack of time and money,' but let them think long before they enter upon any work for which they are not fully pre-pared. It will be done with small profit and less pleasure. What is the aim of a college course ? Is it to get through as quickly as possible or is it to know something ? The years of preparation are the ones that tell all through college life and all through the life afterwards. Two years of good drill when beginning the languages are worth more than two years of extra reading afterwards, without the drill. And the preparation in other branches is no less important. A good preparation is the key ; it has the power to unlock all the treas-ures of learning. Slight any other part of the course rather than this. L- * * * THE advantages and disadvantages ofexam-inations have been discussed until the ques-tion is an old one. But, to a body of students, the question is one, that, though old, is ever new. Examinations are, to some extent, a test of scholarship; but they are not the test that they might be. In many cases, over work and excitement unfit the student for his task 35 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. and he cannot do himself justice. At the end of the term, he is compelled to do an extra amount of hard work; and, when examinations are over, he is worn out, mentally and physi-cally. Besides this disadvantage, nothing af-fords such a temptation to dishonest work as examinations do. Too often, the idea is to "get through," and it does not matter much how it is done. So far as scholarship is con-cerned, any teacher usually knows from the daily recitations, about how his students stand. It may be said that the reviews pre-ceding examinations are valuable. This may be conceded, but might we not have the re-views, and with just as much profit, if they were not made solely for the sake of the exam-inations ? Some colleges have a system of examination that does not involve cramming for days and nights beforehand. The students never know when an examination is coming and so they never prepare especially for one. It may come any day, and so they do not leave all their work for the end of the term ; it is quite nec-essary to work regularly every day and it goes without saying that this is the work that counts. May it not be that examinations con-ducted in this way are a better test of scholar-ship, and better in every respect? It seems to us that if cramming and worrying and dishon-est work could be done away with, there would be a better chance of attaining the true end of examinations. L. * * * PRESENT REQUIREMENT FOR ADMISSION TO COLLEGES.—Not long since Prof. Ira Rem-sen delivered an address before the Johns Hop-kins university graduates, in which he took the ground that the present requirements for admission to our leading American colleges are too great, and should be modified. As at present, it is scarcely possible for a young man desiring to engage in one of the professions, to complete his course upon reaching his major-ity. A very few may, by reason of special ad-vantages in his life, be able to do so, but the many cannot. A young man will take his bachelor's degree at twenty-two. If he desires to fit himself for the medical profession, he must now pursue a further four years course, and should he desire special preparation, as many young men are ambitious to obtain, he will be close to the thirties before he is ready for his profession. The same is true of the law, and of the ministry. Might it not be well to require less in the number of subjects upon which examination is required for admission, and if possible, demand a greater degree of | thoroughness in preparation. Educators in general seem to agree in this, that our colleges are too much mingling with collegiate meth-ods university features, and so are raising the standard of admission too high for the average student seeking a collegiate education. The method leads to what is termed "coaching" for examination, which cannot be other than hurtful to the student. Preparatory work is all-important, but quality, rather than quan-tity, ought to be the aim. It is not the amount of Latin a man may have lead which ought to qualify him for admission to college, but the amount of Latin he knows. You cannot meas-ure knowledge by the yard-stick. A well-trained memory, thoroughness and accuracy— these are of the highest importance in the preparation for the pursuit of a collegiate edu-cation. G. FREED, BUT NOT FREE. Joel Chandler Harris, in one of his short stories called "Free Joe and the rest of the World," gives a short sketch of a freed negro | in ante-bellum days. Free Joe was shabby, poor, and almost friendless. Who cared for a ragged negro with a little dog trotting at his heels ? The better class of whites did not; they had their own negroes to care for, the I lower class were far above him because of their | color, and made him an exile. To them all, he was an object of suspicion. Poor, humble I Joe was freed, and, therefore, a subtle danger was lurking in all he did or said. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 36 One, only one, was a friend to Free Joe. iThat was his wife, and she belonged to a slave [owner who did not allow "free niggers" on [his premises. For a long time the two met in Ithe woods near the Calderwood plantation, (but Mr. Calderwood found this out and hur- Iried Lucinda off to the cit}' where he sold her. Free Joe knew nothing of this. Night after night he waited under the old tree, but his {wife came no more. His simple heart never doubted Lucinda, but he could not understand Bier absence. He consulted a wise fortune-jteller who gave him no encouragement. Once [more he went back to the old trysting place ; perhaps she would come this time. He was so Inear the Calderwood plantation that he could [hear the darkies singing, and he almost thought he could distinguish Lucinda's voice. [There he sat all night; morning found him in Ithe same place with his head bowed upon his [breast. Was he asleep, dreaming of the Lu- [cinda who never came ? A white man, pass-ing by, shook him roughly but he did not [waken. The story-teller says; "His clothes jwere ragged, his hands rough and callous; his Bhoes literally tied together with strings; he Iwas shabby in the extreme. A passer-b}', [glancing at him, could have no idea that such [a humble creature had been summoned as a witness before the Lord God of Hosts." What was Free Joe's freedom to him? He Iwas an outcast even from his own race while [white people looked on him as less than a elave. His only friend beside a poor little dog Iwas an enslaved wife, and she was separated from him forever. He was affectionate and [hopeful, but he was also ignorant and super-stitious. There was no opening for Free Joe; lie had no talents, no friends, no ambition. 3orn and trained in slavery, in freedom he vas helpless. Free Joe is a type of the great class of ne-roes who, at the end of the Civil War were ireed men, but not free. At the Atlanta Ex-position was a plaster cast, made by a colored San. It represents a powerful negro with tragments of chains clinging to his limbs, and it bears the legend: "The chains are broken, but not off." The Emancipation proclamation was only the beginning of freedom for the colored race. It was the breaking, but not the removal of their fetters. They had black skins, and woolly hair, they were Africans; they had been slaves; therefore, they were despised. Not one of them had ever known a home in the true sense of the word. Their families were not their own. Their work had always been done at the command of others; they had no habits of industry and no sense of responsi-bility. They were careless and happy, affec-tionate and emotional. They were a race born under sunny skies in a tropic land, trained in the school of slavery, and then sent out to make their way among energetic, educated white people. Was the negro lazy and im-provident ? Why should he be otherwise ? Was he ignorant ? Slaves had no use for learning ; not even as much as the "three R's." Behind these people were generations of heathen life in Africa and generations of slavery in Amer-ica. Before them, what? When they were freed, they had very crude ideas of what that freedom meant, while only a few of the white people cared what it meant. While they were slaves they had learned one thing, and that was to reverence the white man's God. The negro is and always has been, religious. Even when he was worship-ing idols in his old heathen home, he was nevertheless religious. Now, his worship has been turned in the right direction, and the ne-groes are not only Christians, but Protestant Christians. This much the white man has done for him. What else has been undertaken for the sake of his progress ? He has been given the ballot, but he has not been allowed • its free use. If politicians cannot get round the law in one way they can in another. "The negro is not fitted for the rights of citizenship," they say, when they fear he is about to vote with the other party. But other benefits be-side the negro's political salvation have been attempted. Some are taken back to Africa 37 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. and placed in settlements, when missionaries ; teach them how to civilize their wild brethren, j "Africa is their home" it is said, "and that is the only place where they can develop." Others are educated here, and that education is enough to make one groan. In some schools they are found studying higher mathematics, when they do not know arithmetic, and Greek and Latin, regardless of the fact that they do not yet comprehend plain English. This pleases them, of course. With all their love for display and aptness for imitation, they feel that they are having "white studies" now. Their friends think their advancement is mar-vellous: Their teachers—if their teachers had more sense and courage, the pupils would get what they need, rather than what they want. But some are beginning to see the needs of the colored people and are establishing schools for them on a diffeient plan. Schools where they are given a practical training for a prac-tical life. Where they learn to be mechanics, architects, and whatever else a community needs. . They learn to do all kinds of work, and, more than this, they learn how to work every day. -They learn English, too, and after that, as much more as they can and will. When the negroes were freed, they were like children, and they were at the mercy of the civilized and cultured, but often selfish, white race. In many instances nothing has been done in the way of training them. In most cases when anything has been done, it has been in the form of experiment. One plan after another has been tried until Booker T. Washington, himself a negro, has adopted this plan of practical education; of giving his peo-ple just what they need; both industrial and intellectual training. Despised, neglected, and ■the subject of experiment, is it any wonder that the average negro does not yet stand be-side the average white man ? He has borne much at the hands of the white man; the one whose duty it is to befriend and teach him. White men brought the negroes to these shores and made them slaves; in a great political crisis they were presented with freedom; thrown upon their own resources when they had no resources. We, whose fathers favored or permitted slavery, owe it to the freed slaves to give him what recompense we can. He cannot change the color of his skin and become a white man; neither can he change his nature to that of the white man. He must always be himself; but when that self has been trained and developed, it will not be the lazy, careless self of the present day. The past thirty years mark much improvement, even under great disadvantages. Leaders have risen from among their own race and the habits of slavery are disappearing. But they cannot be white people; they must develop in their own way and keep their own individu-ality. Thus, and only thus, can they rid themselves of their broken chains. But the chains are falling; and we may look for the day when the negro will step forth, no longer a freedman, but a free man, and take his place among the great and good of the nation. In the meantime, the least that we can do, is to see that we put no occasion for stumbling in our neighbor's way. E. M. L-, '96. ♦ ♦ ♦ RETURN OF PERSEPHONE. Demeter decks the wood in green To greet Persephone, She carpets with a verdant sheen Each meadow, lawn and lea ; And every field and forest scene She brightens, silently. She bids the tiny bud unfold, The merry robin, sing ; The violet forget the cold. The arbutus upspring; The crocus too, in cup of gold, Its sweetest tribute.bring. She watches, with an anxious eye. Each shifting shade and light, And scans the ever changing sky From morning until night; Now heavy clouds go floating by, And now the sun shines bright. Oh, for a breath of summer breeze. To wake the sleeping flowers ; Oh, for the shade of budded trees, The balm of April showers ; Oh, for the green of grassy leas, For "glad and golden hours ! Oh, Earth, no more in silence be, In deepest, darkest night; Break forth in streams of melody, THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 38 Press onward to the light, Then shall my lost Persephone Return, all fair and bright. Persephone, Persephone, For many dreary days My heart has wandered, seeking thee In dark and desert ways. Persephone, come back to me, And fill my life with praise ! I hear her foot-step on the hills, Her smile the flowers hold ; Her laughter ripples in the rills, Sunshine, her hair of gold. Her sweetness all the Springtime fills With beauty never told. She comes. Her footsteps press the grass. And flowers spring beneath, And bloom, a perfect, perfumed mass, Her queenly brow to wreathe. The wild birds greet her, as they pass. And sweetest carols breathe. Oh, Earth, bring all thy treasures sweet, The flowers of the lea, And scatter at her fairy feet Who cometh now to me. And sea and sky grow fair, to greet Returned Persephone. A. R.W.,'99. IT HAD TO GO. 'Twas late at night, the halls were dark. All Freshmen were asleep. When slowly through the darkened halls The Sophs were heard to creep. They slowly wound their way around Until they reached Joe's door, And then they stopped and listened long ; At last they heard him snore. A knock awoke him from sweet dreams To things more real iu life. He learned the object of their call He saw their sharpened knife. Disguised with masks, they made for him In such a " friendly " way, That made him shake though half awake And beg them not to stay. "Take what you will, I'll pay the bill," (Combined strength Joseph feared), "There's only one thing that I ask, And that is, save my beard." A smile passed round the gathered mob, Then came the verdict, slow : "Sir, we decided 'ere we came Your beard would have to go." Then quick the knife sped o'er his face Held firm by willing hands, And in the morn Joe found his beard Was scattered like the sands. H.M.C. I On Thursday, April 9th, Mr. Beaver, trav-eling Sec'y of the State for the Y. M. C. A., Iwas here looking after the interest of the work. COLLEGE LOCALS. GRAYSON Z. STUP and ROBBIN B. WOLF, Editors. you come so Hot weather. Spring fever. New MERCURY staff elected. Bums put much big curve on ball for In-dian. Musselman and Armstrong have the strong-est room in college. "Why, darling, why did late?" Kitzmeyer, '98, is confined to his home with sickness. The Juniors are working hard on their ora-tions for the oratorical contest. The ten speakers for commencement are as follows : Rice,"England's Policy in Turkey;" Eisenhart, Valedictor}^; Miss Eoomis, "Liter-ature of the Home;" Stup, Salutatory; Shinier, "Revival of Olympic Games;" Spayde, "Christianity and the Working Classes;" Shaar, "The Earth a Remnant;" Reitzell, "The Primacy of the United States in the Western Hemisphere;" Baum, "Municipal Reform;" Loudon, "Cecil Rhodes." The Octet and Violin Quartet are contem-plating a trip to Millersburg in May. They are prepared to give a good concert. A good job for an overworked student : Plucking the dandelions out. of the grass on the campus. Two Sophomores, cogitating over Dr. B.'s head, propounded the following conumdrum : Why is Dr. B.'s head like a hound ? Because it makes a little hair go a great way. E.,'99—Oh! Mr. F., the MERCURY says that if anyone has a dispute that cannot be settled amiably he shall call around to 29 W. He must have been thinking of the amiable girls. B.,'99—What are you reading? There, you are designating the Sabbath again ! S.,'99—Who is the author of Milton's "Par-adise Dost?" H., '97—' 'Shakespeare, of course.'' A., '97, While walking up the street dur-ing vacation, was reading Spectrum proof, and not noticing a shoot that was conveying coal 39 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. into a cellar he fell over it, breaking it down, and at the same time considerably disturbing his own equanimity. A passer-by said it was possible to hear the coal hustler hurl all sorts of expletives, dashes, and question marks af-ter the editor. Shortly after the term opened two Sophs overslept themselves on Sunday evening, and finding their appetites too strong they decided to call at the store and get some apples. They knew the girls would let them have them, so they went without collars. When they got there, however, the ladies insisted that they should come in, which they finally agreed to do until the apples were procured. While sitting there, with coat collars turned up, L. said : F., why don't you put down your coat collar ? This was too much for the modest young man, and he blushed. Mr. H., '99, believes in the motto that "Bet-ter the day, better the deed," having arisen one Sunday morning at 5 o'clock to study a declamation. The report is circulated that Mr. C.,'99, has been kidnapped by the Millersville authorities. We hope he may enjoy this experience better than his previous one. Mr. K.,'99, has been blessed with his third set of teeth, which he finds very troublesome, especially when he wishes to flirt. He had a slight experience in that line, recently. For further information, apply to Josey. Mr. E., Prep., recently astounded a young lady by the remark that his mother expected him to bring an American wife with him when he returned. Sammy is doing pretty well, but he must remember he is not yet ready to return to Persia. Mr. B., '99, would like meditetaneous speaker. Mr. S.,'99, during vacation remarked to some lady friends : "Oh, I'm naturally bright in languages, and I read French at sight. Dr. M. begs leave to differ. If "conceit were consumption" he'd be dead this long time. to become a good Mr. W.,'99, on account of his "lovely hair," has found favor in the eyes of the '99 co-ed. The "son of an eminent divine" has so far advanced in his manhood that he can now go around with a pipe in his mouth and not get sick. Bravo ! Luther. Nearly all the Seniors have taken leave of their moustaches. The object is to make the class appear as young as possible. Those who I kept their moustaches were afraid that they could never raise another one. Mr. H., '99 was seen, or rather heard, at a late ball game with a deaf .young lady. The conversation ran somewhat as follows: He— "Is'nt that a fine pitcher?" She—"No, I don't think it will rain." One of the Juniors, who had ruined his eyes the night before, by writing fine print, was unusually disappointed to hear that the exam-ination was excused. The committee appointed by the board of trustees in regard to Dr. McKnight's resigna-tion, met in the reception room of the recita-tion hall last Tuesday morning. Nothing is known as to their action. The Spectrum will be out in a few days. The publishers have had the material for some time and will send the books about the first week in May. There will be a few extra copies. If you have not subscribed, you should do so at once. Again work in gymnasium has been deserted. Tennis and base ball, how-ever, have more than replaced it. Tennis spirit is running high. Nearly seventy of the boys have entered the tournament. Baseball is also getting its share of enthusi-asts. Very exciting and close class games are expected. At noon on Wednesday, April 29th, Miss Margaret Grayson Valentine, daughter of Dr. Milton Valentine, professor of theology in the Seminary, was united in marriage to Mr. Henry W. Siegrist, of Lebanon. The cere-mony occurred at the home of the bride, and was performed by Dr. Valentine, assisted by the bride's brother, Rev. Milton H. Valentine. The bridal procession was composed of the groom and his best man, two bridesmaids, the maid of honor, and the bride, leaning on the arm of her brother, Sterling Valentine, and marched to the altar to the strains of Tann-hauser's wedding march. The room in which the ceremony was per-formed was decorated most beautifully with apple blossoms, producing a charming, as well as novel effect. The wedding was very largely attended, and the presents were especially numerous | and handsome. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 40 After congratulations were extended to the newly-married pair, most elegant refreshments were served to the guests. The bride and groom started on their tour on the afternoon train on the W. M. R. R. The MERCURY unites with their many friends in extending congratulations and best wishes. It is reported that a midnight flitting took I place at Prep, a few _ evenings ago. Some of the Preps, thinking that the attractions were too great for Mr. E., 1900, kindly helped him i to move. We are sorry to learn that the rooms sought for by Mr. E. were occupied, and Mr. E. was compelled to move back with all his possessions. The MERCURY extends its sympathy. At last things have come to an end, or, at least we hope so, in the line of fights. On Friday night, April 18, as Messrs. Smith, '98, land Spayde, '99, were returning to college, after having been up town for something to eat, they were stopped at the depot by three town fellows, who demanded "a dime to rush the growler." They were refused, when they followed our men down to and inside the col-i lege gates, where they made a desperate as-sault on them. One of the assailants, King, {by name, had a knife, and succeeded in cutting ;'both Smith and Spayde. Finally, the fight was ■ interrupted by the appearance of other college Imen on the scene, and the town men then withdrew. On account of not knowing the names of the assailants, warrants could not be issued as soon as needful, and King managed to escape for the time being. All three men jhave now been caught, tried and convicted. ■There is no doubt but that the}' will receive a |just sentence. On Friday evening, April 25th,- the last of a Ivery good course of Y. M. C. A. entertain- Imeuts was given. Dr. Willits was the speaker lof the evening, and his subject was "Sunshine, lor How to Enjoy Eife." Quite a large num- Iber of people were present, and the lecture ■was enjoyed by all. Dr. S. [in physiology]—Which is the bet-ter, Mr. B., to live upon a mixed diet all the time, or upon one consisting of the same kinds I of food ? 'Chummie" B.,'99—Why, Doctor, if you |iat the same kind of food all the time, you'll [die sometime, won't you ? Dr. B. [In Greek]—What is a man ? Mr. R.,'99 -Man is a quadruped. "Capt." D., famous as a '99 foot-ball player, is calling on a girl, when the college bell is heard to ring,— THE GIRE—Mr. D., do you hear, the bell for study hour is ringing. Mr. D.—Oh, that's all right, they'll excuse me. THE GIRE—Well, I'll excuse you, too, Mr. D. Mr. M., '99, of New York fame, while in Physiology, enumerating the different parts through which the food must pass before reaching the stomach, grew eloquent, men-tioning the throat, the pharynx, the gullet, the liver, the lungs, and would have included the heart and the brains, had Dr. S. allowed him. Dr. S. [in physiology]—Mr. E., what word in the English language do we get from bicus-pids ? Son-of-an-emineut-divine—Cuspidor ! Dr. M.—How are consonants at the end of the words pronounced ? Mr. S.,'99—They are pronounced silent. Dr. B. [In Sophomore Botany class, hold-ing up a flower stalk]—Does this resemble grass ? Chorus, on back row—Yes, sir ; it's green. Dr. B.—There are other things besides grass that are green. Chorus, on back row—Yes, sir—Freshmen. Mr. F.,'98, in Greek class the other morn-ing furnished some entertainment by reading about Alexander and Meualaos fighting for "the woman with long spears." "Doc." E.,'98, recently convulsed several of his friends by referring to the spray, which he uses for cologne, as his "itemizer." Und no huts ihn gewunert fer was sie lacha ! Mr. S.,'99, on being told that the Odyssey treated of the wanderings of Ulysses, said he couldn't see how that could be, because his Mythology said that Homer wrote about the wanderings of Ulysses. These Freshmen are always so exact. Mr. H., '99, insists that coquette is pro-nounced croquet! Perhaps there is some re-lation between the two in the place from which he comes. Charles F., '98, has taken to chewing to-bacco, and if any fellow wants a chew he knows where to get it. Gold Rope, No Tax, Finzer's Old Honesty and Battle Axe are some -M THE COLLEGE MERCURY. of his favorites. We have heard it reported that he did not commence this detestable habit voluntarily, but that he was prevailed upon by his friends. One short sentence will tell the whole story. His sideburns arc no more. We all know who wore them; we all know who did the college the service of removing them; and we all know that we are very thankful. It is not necessary to add, that he looks a great deal better with-out them. What strange freaks of nature we do read about—worse than earthquakes and landslides. Mr. H., '98, the other clay in Bible astonished the class by saying that "the Taurus mount-ains flow westward into the Mediterranean sea!" "Jerry" F.,'98, recently in English litera-ture, made a slight mistake when he said that among the books of the Elizabethan period was one on "railways." Zullinger, '98, is at his home in Waynes-boro, suffering with a severe attack of rheu-matism. McAllister, '98, was also on the sick list for about a week and a half, but is again back to his work. The exhibition given by the Sons of Her-cules in the Gymnasium, Tuesday evening, April 21, was one of the best for some years. The audience, however, should have been much larger, and it is to be regretted that the fellows did not turn out as they should have done. The performance consisted mainly of mat work, with some work on the horizontal and parallel bars, and concluded with a three round sparring match between Bechtel, 1900 and Kahler, 1900. All the performances and figures were very skillfully executed, and the Sons of Hercules are to be congratulated upon their successful entertainment. "The floral tributes to the favorites were many and beau-tiful." Those who took part in the perform-ances are : Wiest, '95, Stup, '96, Krafft, '98, Fuss,' 98, Hermann,' 99, Brumbaugh, '99, Straw,'99, Kahler 1900 and Bechtel, 1900. The College Octette and the Violin Quartette furnished the music, which was well appreci-ated— especially by the gallery, who rendered their applause in a very vociferous manner when the Octette closed with "Away down South in old Virginia." /\LUw|Ni- II. D. SHIMER AND H. W. BIKLE, Editors. '68. Rev. L. M. Heilmau, D. D., pastor of the Lutheran church at Harrisburg, is deliver-ing a series of five illustrated lectures covering subjects of history, travel and science. '72. Rev. J. A. Koser will occupy the new-parsonage by May 1st, at Sioux City, la. '74. Rev. W. L. Remsberg, of Omaha, Neb., has been called to the Myersville charge in Frederick county, Md. '75. Rev. E. G. Hay, of Red Hook, N. Y., delivered his illustrated lecture on Gettysburg in Story and in Art, in the Lutheran church at Albany, Rev. Dr. G. M. Heindel, pastor, on April 29th. '75. Since Rev. E. D. Weigle, D. D., as-sumed the pastorate of Trinity Lutheran church, Meclianicsburg, January 1st, 1896, sixty persons have been added to the member-ship of the church, increasing the roll of mem-bers to over two hundred. '78. Rev. A. R. Glaze has changed his ad-dress from Gordon to Maple Hill, Pa. '80. Rev. G. W. McSherry, of Taneytown, Md., has resigned. This leaves one of the most important charges in the Maryland Synod vacant. '82. The second edition of "Practical Exer-cises in English," by Rev. Prof. Huber Gray Buehler, published some months since by Harper Brothers, is now going through the presses. The author is at present engaged in the preparation of another book of an educa-tional character. '82. Rev. H. H. Weber, General Secretary of our Church Extension Board, immediately after the last meeting of the Board, suffered a relapse, and is now at his home, unable to leave it. It is thought the heavy work before Eas-ter is the cause. '82. Rev. H. L. Jacobs has resigned his charge at Hanover. His many friends and acquaintances will regret to lose him as a citi-zen, while his congregation must doubly re-gret their loss of a gifted pulpit orator and a faithful and earnest pastor. Mr. Jacobs will l go to Tyrone. '83. Field Secretary Rev. H. L. Yarger, of j the Church Extension Board, is visiting all ■ the churches of the General Synod in Califor- I nia. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 42 '84. Rev. Geo. E- Faber, A. M., has pub-lished in tract form, a patriotic discourse, which he delivered before Wayne Council, No. 46, Jr. O. U. A. M., Nov. 24, 1895. Thesub-j jectof his discourse is "Four Horns and Four [ Carpenters.'' '88. Rev. D. Frank Garland, pastor of the Church of the Reformation, Baltimore, Md., has published a neat card of his special servi- Ices now being held. '91. Rev. Chas. Ritter, of Fayetteville was recently in town visiting H. T. Weaver and family. '91. Rev. W. G. Slifer, of Idaville, has re-ceived and accepted a unanimous call to St. John's Lutheran church of Davis, W. Va., j and will take charge in the near future. '91. Rev. August Pohlman, our medical [missionary-elect to Africa, was graduated from the Baltimore Medical College on commeuce- Imentday, April 22d. He had the honor of having been chosen class valedictorian. '91. Rev. Stanley Billheimer preached in [Bethlehem Lutheran church, Harrisburg, on Sunday, April 12. '93. Rev. W. H. Ehrhart, of the Gettys-burg Seminary, has been called to Silver Run, [Md. '93. Rev. John C. Grimes has been asigned Jto the Greencastle charge, Greencastles, Pa., [by the Central Pa., M. E. Conference. '95. Ivan L- Hoff has been admitted to the Ibar of Carrol county, Md., and is building up a good clientage. ATHLETICS. WILLIAM E. WHEELER. Editor. The base ball season was opened April 17th, by the game with Washington and Jefferson, Ion the home grounds. The game was quite Ian exciting one on account of the opportune jbatting on both teams. W. and J. made two |runs in their half of the third inning, and by a nome-run hit of Tate, Gettysburg tied the score in the second half of the third. Two nore runs were added to each nine in the fifth inning, and again enthusiasm ran high. W. and J., by bunching their hits in the sixth and seventh, added five more runs, and this lead IGettysburg was unable to overcome, and al-though adding three more to their favor, they were defeated by a score of nine to seven. The make-up of the home team was somewhat uncertain until the day for the game, and their playing was very good, only two errors being made. Rogers, for W. and J., pitched the better game, allowing Gettysburg but six hits. For the "blue and orange" Sheely and Tate led at the bat, while Heisey and Eicher carried off the honors for the visitors. Being the first game of the season, a large crowd was present, and between innings the Gettysburg band played appropriate strains. The following is the score in detail : GETTYSBURG. R H PO A White, 3b 0031 Sheel}', lb 1260 Leisenring, ss. 3 o o 6 'rate, c 1270 Wolf, e.f 0110 Hartzell, l.f. 0060 Huttou, r.f 0020 Wisotzski, r.f. 1 1 o o Courtney, p 1003 Licht'b'rg'r^b 0020 w AND j. R Nesbit, ib 2 Hughes, ss 1 Heisey, rf 2 Eicher, 3b 1 Moore, cf o Rogers, p o Thomson, c. . 1 Beason, 2b o Gamble, If 2 Totals 9 13 27 14 7 lotals 7 6 27 10 2 Earned runs—Gettysburg, 4; W. and J., 7. Two-base hits- Gettysburg, 1; W. and J., 1. Three-base hits—w. and J., i- Home runs—Gettysburg, 1. Stolen bases—Gettysburg, 5; w. and J., 6. Double plays—Hughes, Beason, Nesbit. Struck out—by Gettysburg, 6; by W. and J., 8. Passed balls—Thom-son, 2. Time of game—2,30. Umpire—Donald McPherson. The home team was again defeated on the 18th of April, at Lancastei,by the Franklin and Marshall team, by a score of nine to noth-ing. Inability to hit F. and M.'s pitcher, a State League man, was the cause of defeat. Gettysburg put up a pretty game in the field, and supported Burns in fine style. The latter struck out fourteen men, creating for himself an enviable record against F. and M.'s hard hitters. He allowed them but eight scattered hits. Harr did the best batting for F. and M., and Sheely and Leisenring for Gettysburg. The game was without any distinguishing fea-tures, since both teams showed considerable weakness at the bat. Cremer and Kready did the best fielding for F. and M. The fol-lowing is the score : GETTYSBURG. White, 3b Sheely, ib Leisenring, 2b Mulhall. c Diehl, cf Wisotzki, ss. Wolf, r. f Burns, p Hartzell, 1. f. R H PO Oil 013 o 1 3 o o 14 F, & M. R H PO A Hambright, 3b. 1 o 2 2 Cremer, c 2193 Sheckard, p I 1 2 1 Barthol'm'w.ib o 1 8 1 Sheibley, 2b I o 3 1 Gillan, cf 2120 Harr, rf 0210 Helman, If 1 1 o o Kreads', ss 1 1 o 2 Total o 3 23* 7 4 Total 9 8 27 10 ♦Sheckard out-hit by batted ball. Earned runs—F. and M., 1. Two-base hits—F. and M., 3. Double plays—Sheibley aud Bartholomew. Base on balls— Gettysburg, 1 ; F. and M" 6. Hit by pitched ball—Gettysburg, 1; F. and M., 2. Struck out—Burns, 14; by Sheckard, 8. Passed balls—Mulhall, 1. Time of game—2.05. Umpire—Mr. G arwood. 43 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. The third game of the season resulted in a decided victory for Gettysburg, whose oppon-ent was the strong nine from the Carlisle In-dian school. As is usual in all games with this institution, a large and appreciative crowd was present. The grand stands were filled. It was an ideal clay for base ball, and both teams entered the game with a de-termination to win. Stung by the two previ-ous defeats, Gettysburg made every effort to retrieve lost reputation at the expense of the Indians. But seven innings were played, to enable the visiting team to catch a train for home, and in that time Burns had them en-tirely'at his mercy, allowing the Indians but three hits. His ups and downs and deceptive, ins and outs were too much for the heavy hit-ters from Carlisle. Seventeen men fanned the air in vain attempts to hit the ball. Both teams played a pretty game in the field. Tate led at the bat for Gettysburg, getting three out of the five hits made. Jamison and Shelafo were the only ones able to touch Burns. Score in detail : GETTYSBURG. White, 3b 1 Sheely, ib o Leisenring, ss. 0 Tate, c 1 Wolf, cf 1 Hnrtzell, If o Licht'b'ger, 2b. o Hums, p o Mutton.rf o R II PO A 18 I 5 2I INDIANS. R H TO A Pierce, ib 0050 Roger, cf 0030 Shelafo, p 1203 Archiquette, If o o 2 o Jamison, 2b. o ] jackson, rf o Yrobe. ss o Louis, 3b o o Spenser, e o o o o o 1 Total. Earned runs—Gettysbnrg, 2. Total 1 3 18 7 3 Two-base hits—Indians, I" Stolen bases—Gettysburg, 2; Indians, 2. Double plays—Louis. Jamison, Pierce. Base on balls-Gettysburg, 3. Hit by pitched ball—Gettysburg, 1; Indians, I. Struck out—By Burns, 17; by Shelafo, 4. Time of game—1.55. Umpire-Paul Kuendig. The need of a good track team was clearly shown by the recent participation on the part of Gettysburg in the relay races held at Frank-lin Field, University of Pennsylvania on the 25th ult. With proper and sufficient training we could have undoubtedly won in our event; as it was our team secured third place. Many benefits are derived from such meets and the good obtained shows itself in subse-quent races. The meeting with the college athletic world, the exchanging of plans and purposes by the different men and coaches are of an inestimable benefit to any team, and es-pecially to our own team. Track work has hitherto been a minus quantity at Gettysburg and only an occasional spur would cause any-thing like a revival of the true athletic spirit. The result of this, our first participa-tion in relay racing, should not be disregarded, but all energy and power exerted to put into 1 the field a strong representative track team. This is the intention of the management and it should meet the hearty co-operation and sup-port of the students. Arrangements are now being made for a "field day" during com-mencement week. Further notice and needs will be made known. The prospects for our foot ball team next i year are now engaging the attention of the management. During the next few weeks the i old men as well as new ones will get out on i the field and practice kicking, running and I falling on the ball. This practice is absolutely I necessary for a successful team, and though a I little earlier than usual, means a great deal I toward the success of the eleven There is good material now in college and, with prom-ised accessions, our prospects for a winning team were never so bright. The manager is now arranging the schedule, and a number of dates have been secured. The drawings for the tennis tournament have not yet been made, but will be done in a few days. A greater number of entries have been secured this year than ever before. Manager Lark is working hard to make this tournament more successful financially and otherwise than previous ones; and from the entries and possible drawings a goodly number of close and exciting games will be witnessed. All tennis players should enter this tournament and uphold the record made by former players. FFJATERNHY NOTES. PHI KAPPA PSI. We were pleased to have among us recently for a few days, Rev. J. L. Smith, D. D., '62, ofPittsburg, Pa. F. G. Turner, '93, is studying law at the University of Maryland. Rev. J. G. Goetman, D. D., attended a com-mittee meeting held here several days since. Eisenhart and Reitzell, '96, are two of the ten speakers at the coming commencement, Eisenhart receiving the appointment of Vale-dictorian. E. W. Smith, '93, intends pursuing shortly a course of medicine at U. P. Paul F. W. Kuendig, '98, has been elected official umpire of the Cumberland Valley League. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 44 PHI GAMMA DELTA. Bro. Walter H. Stifel, of Allegheny, Pa., was initiated on Tuesday, April 28th. We had the pleasure of entertaining Bros. Beason and Logan from W. and J. during the visit of their base ball team, Apr. 17. Bro. Swartz, '81, until recently pastor at Wilmington, Del., accepted a call to Pough-keepsie, N. Y. Bro. Fichthorn, '84, will sail from New York, June 24, on the Friesland, for a two months tour of England and Germany. Bros. Seabrook, '77, Gait, '85, and Anstadt, '90, were welcome visitors in Gettysburg re-cently. The following brothers were in town attend-ing the Siegrist-Valentine wedding last Tues-day : Hocker, '80, Valentine, '80, Stahler, '80, Valentine, '82, Alleman, '84, Fichthorn, '84, Kausler> '84, Miller, '85, DeYoe, '86, Garland, '88. Bro. Herr, ex-'97; is one of the performers [in the U. of P. "Mask and Whig" Club. Bro. Smith, '97, recently took a trip to Phila. on business in the interest of the Spec- : hum. Bros. Rice, Shaar and Baum are speakers chosen for Commencement. Bro. Norman Gait, '85, of Washington, D. C, was married to Miss Edith Boiling, at Wyethville, Va., Thursday morning, Apr. 30. Bro. H. R. Smith was recently elected Busi-ness Manager of the MERCURY for the coming I year. ALPHA TAU OMEGA. Rev. C. G. Bikle, '92, of Glen Gardner, N. J., paid the °hapter a visit, recently. Geo. A. Kyner, '89, of Chambersburg, Pa.,- was in Gettysburg some time ago. M. R. Zulliuger, '98, who was compelled to go home on account of sickness, has improved and will be back in a few weeks. Ralph L. Smith, '98, has gone home and will not return this term. W. E. Wheeler, '97; C. B. Erb, '97, andH. F. Grazier, '98, who were members of the relay team, report a fine time while at Phila-delphia, through the courtesy of Penn. Tau. F. S. Emmert, ex-'gs, has graduated from 1 Bellevue Hospital, New York, and is practic- | ing his profession there. Chas. H. Spayde, '99, was home for a few days, recently. PHI DELTA THETA. O. H. Melchor, '76, spent a few days in town recently. C. E. Reinewald, '85, paid us a visit on April 29th. J. C. Hughes and Alex. Eicher, of Penu'a Gamma, were the guests of the Chapter on April 17th and 18th. J. E. Meisenhelder,' 97, and J. W. Ott, '97, have been elected to positions on the MERCURY staff, the former as assistant business manager, and the latter as an associate editor. SIGMA CHI. . Emory L. Loudon, '87, of Altoona, Pa., paid the Chapter a Welcome visit April 29th. E. W. London, '96, was. one of the repre-sentatives from this college in the relay races at the University of Pennsylvania, at Philadel-phia, April 25th. He has also been chosen as one of the ten speakers for commencement. Frank Leisenring, '97, spent Saturday, 18th ult, at Lancaster, with the base ball team. TOWN ^D SEWIJNARY NOTES. WEBSTER C SPAYDE, Editor. TOWN. Among the bills passed by the New York Legislature and sent to Governor Morton for approval was one appropriating $25,000 for an equestrian statue at Gettysburg to Major Gen-eral H. W. Slocum. It is not at all. likely that the bill will be vetoed. Before many years the field will be dotted with works of sculptors. . The Senate has concurred in the House bill to improve the roads within the National Park at this place. Another observation tower is to be erected this summer. Sunday trains will likely be put on the Ship-pensburg, Carlisle and Gettysburg divisions of the Reading Railroad, again about the middle of May. The repair hands are getting the electric road in condition for operation. 45 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. The Union League of Philadelphia will be here on the 23rd and 24th of May on their an-nual excursion. At the oratorical contest between members of the Prohibition Club of the Seminary and College, held in the Court Room, Thursday, April 23d, J. S. Huddle, of the Seminary, was chosen to represent the association in the State contest, which will take place in Philadelphia, May 8th. The judges were Revs. T. P. Ege, Hugh Gilchrist and A. R. Steck and Wm. Arch McClean and D. P. McPherson, Esqs. The able and eloquent sermon of Rev. Dr. Billheimer in St. James Lutheran church on Sunday evening, April 26th was attended by over 100 members of Gettys Lodge of Odd Fellows in a body, and by an audience which crowded the spacious audience room. At a meeting of the Board of School Direc-tors Monday evening, April 27th, it was de-termined to buy from J. Emory Bair and Calvin Gilbert the tract of land which forms the triangle between the Chambersburg pike and the Springs road, from the railroad east to the monument. The price fixed is $1,500. Several architects have been notified of the in-tention to build, and plans are requested for a handsome, two-story brick building. SEMINARY. Rev. W. S. Oberholtzer, who was ill for quite a long time, is well again, and left for his home on Monday morning, April 27th. We extend to him our best wishes for the future. On Sunday, April 19th, Rev. Ervin Diet-erly preached at Greenvillage in the morning and at Fayetteville in the evening. Rev. L. H. Waring returned lately from Bloomington, 111., where he spent several weeks in mission work. Rev. L. B. Hafer preached for Rev. Jas. Guiney, at Cold Springs, Sunday, April 12th. On Sunday, April 12th, Rev. J. T. Huddle preached at Germantown, Pa. Rev. Charles P. Wiles has accepted a unan-imous call to the Rossville charge, York county. Rev. E. E. Neudewitz filled the pulpit for Rev. Weigle, at Mechanicsburg, on April 19. The joint council of the Myersville, Md., Lutheran charge has extended a call to Rev. Wilson L. Remsburg, of Omaha, Neb., to be-come their pastor, and it is understood that he will accept the call. Rev. Remsburg was graduated from the Gettysburg Seminary. The following Seminarians were out preach-ing on Sunday, April 26th : Rev. E. E. Par-son in the Messiah Lutheran church, Harris-burg ; Rev. C. P. Wiles at Rossville, York county, Pa.; Rev. A. A. Kelly at Mechanics-burg, Pa.; Rev. M. J. Kline in the Bethlehem Lutheran church, Harrisburg; Rev. L- F. Myers at Frederick, Md.; Rev. J. M. Guss in the Second Lutheran church, Carlisle ; Rev. J. C. Bowers at Lutherville, Md.; Rev. J. F. Crigler at Newport, Pa.; Rev. A. J. Rudisill at New Bloomfield, Pa.; Rev. Flavius Hilton at Martin's Creek, Pa., and Rev. W. H. Erhart at Silver Run, Md. LITERARY SOCIETIES. EDNA M. LOOMIS, Editor. PHILO. On Friday evening, April 17th, the Senior members of Philo Society, arra37ed in their gowns and mortarboards, followed the custom instituted by the class of '95, and rendered their valedictory program. Notwithstanding the great warmth of the evening, an unusually large audience assembled, and apparent^ were much pleased with the performance. The program was as follows : Instrumental Solo, - - - Miss DIEHL. Greeting, --- BADM. Roll Call, - RITTER. Essay, "Oratory as a Factor in Education," - - RICE. '96 on the Campus, REITZELL. Vocal Solo, - - - STOT. Poem, --- Miss LOOMIS. Oration, --- EISENHART. Retrospect, --- - MENGES. '96 on the Carpet, - ' - - - - CAKTY, Vocal Solo, - - - - - - REITZELL. '96 in I,ab., --- I,OUDO!(. Prophecy, --- YODER. Piano Solo, --- Miss DIEHL. At the close of the program, Mr. Stup, on behalf of the Senior members, presented the society with an excellent portrait of Dr. E. S. Breidenbaugh. The following men were elected to positions on the MERCURY staff for the ensuing year: Business Manager, H. R. Smith, '97; Asso-ciate Editors, S. J. Miller, '97; L- Kohler, '98; C. H. Tilp, '98; C. T. Lark, '98. The following officers were elected on Fri- THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 46 day evening, May 1st : Pres., Abel; V. Pres., Lark; Cor. Sec, Fuss; Rec. Sec, Herman; Treas., Fite; Critic, Miss Sieber; librarian, Englar; Ass't Librarian, Tilp; Subscriber for papers, Armstrong. PHRENA. On Friday evening, May 1, Phrena ren-dered the following special program before a large and attentive audience : Essay, "The Functions of the Farmers' Alliance,' Essay, "Woman's Eights," Essay, "The Complaints of the Populist Party," Music—Violin and Guitar, - - - - • - Recitation, "The Ship of Faith," Essay, "The Glory of the Democratic Party," Oration, "Why I am a Republican," Oration, "Why I am a Prohibitionist," Music—Violin and Guitar, - :- Oration, "The Know-Nothing Party," "Tang-an-ang-jeera," - Kline,'!!!) Finch,'98 0tt,'97 Manges Bros. Hickman,'99 - Spayde,'9C Shimer,'96 Brubaker,'9C Manges Bros. Woods,'98 - Weeter,'99 LITERARY QUESTIONS. Is Thomas Hardy now-a-days ? Is Rider Haggard pale ? Is Minot Savage ? Oscar Wilde ? And Edward Everett Hale ? Was Lawrence Sterne? Was Herman Grimm? Was Edward Young? John Gay? Jonathan Swift ? and old John Bright ? And why was Thomas Gray ? Was John Brown ? was J. A. White ? Chief Justice Taney quite? Is William Black ? R. D. Blackmore ? Mark Lemon? H. K. White? Was Francis Bacon lean in streaks ? John Suckling vealy, pray ? Was Hogg much given to the pen ? Are Lamb's tales sold to-day ? Did Mary Maple Dodge in time ? Did C. D. Warner ? How ? At what did Andrew Marvel so? Does Edward Whimper now ? What goodies did Rose Terry Cook ? Or Richard Boyle beside ? What gave the wicked Thomas Payne ? And made Mark Akenside ? Was Thomas Tickell-ish at all ? Did Richard Steel, 1 ask ? Tell me has George A. Sala suit? Did William Ware a mask ? Does Henry Cabot Lodge at home ? John Home Tooke what and when ? Is Gordon Cumming ? Has G. W. Cabled his friends again ?—Ex. DISAPPOINTED. T'd heard about the palisades ; One minute was enough To see that they were after all But one enormous bluff. —Yale Record. "My daughter," and his voice was stern, "You must set this matter right ; What time did the Sophomore leave, Who sent in his card last night? " "His work was pressing, father dear, And his love for it was great; He took his leave and went away Before a quarter of eight." Then a twinkle came to her bright blue eyes And her dimples deeper grew, " 'Tis surely no sin to tell him that, For a quarter of eight is two."—Ex. As Providence willed, By her bicycle killed, 'Twas thus that her epitaph ran : "In bloomers and cap Though sad the mishap She went to her death like a man."—Ex. A. G. SPALDIf k BROS "The Name is a Guarantee" that the article bearing it ia the best produced. Uniforms and Supplies of Every Description for. Base Ball = Tennis = Golf Send for Handsome Illustrated Catalogue. The Acme of Perfection— THE SPALDING BICYCLE FOP 1896. A. Q. Spalding & Bros., largest manufacturers of Bicycles and Athletic Goods in the world. NEW YORK, PHILADELPHIA. CHICAGO. ADVERTISEMENTS. DURING VACATION GO TO CHAUTAUQUA p-R El El FULL INSTRUCTIONS. NO EXPERIENCE REQUIRED H. B. WILLIAMS, Secretary, Geneva, N. Y. ■ YOU CAN EARN UO TO S100 MONTHLY AND EXPENSES IF YOU WORK FOR THE NURSERY CO. Stock sold with a guarantee and replaced. «>R.$H.$REININGER," MERCHANT TAILOR fI}@ tait Work at tfc@ Lowest 'lYiws, NEXT DOOR TO POST OFFICE, tjP-STAIRS. Suits from $121 to $40.00. Pants from $00 to $12,01 G^Centre *q[uare. COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS I SUSGRONS, ^BALTIMORE, W|D.^ The College of Physicians and Surgeons of Balti-more, Maryland, is a well-equipped school. Four ses-sions are required for graduation. For full informa-tion send for the annual catalogue, or write to THOMAS OPIE, M. D. Dean, Cor. Calvert and Saratoga Sts. . ; c_£P=iEstablished 1876.5^5-5 ., WATCHMAKER AND JEWELER, Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons, College Souvenir Spoons. No. 10 Baltimore Street, GETTYSBURG, PENN'A. UfE|CAND|i| HONIAN^ J. A. TAWNEY I& ready to furnish clubs and boarding houses BREAD, ROLLS, M0TEL GETTYSBURG* -aSAfiBBS SllQVK- [Centre Square. ine Stationery Jeople'a *Dru(/ Store. •Jrcscripii'ono a Specialty. d.L MunqpGP, *P/iotograp/ii}er, No. 29 Baltimore St., @ETTySBUT^(S SPECIAL ATTENTION PAID TO ffiine Qollsotion of. BAffLEFIELD VIEWS Iteatfs on hand. MAIL CRDERS RECEIVE PROMPT ATTENTION. if ^«yj3w$s»* -^A-asriD— Elliott & HOUSOP. N. 3. —Stiff Hits mads to Fit the Eon in two minutes. 8. E. KiTznJul^ riivrs, CAPS, —^ —- Boors * SHOES. G^Satisfaction Guaranteed.^) No. 6 S. Baltimore Street, GETTYSBURG, PA. por all Ihe latest styles in Suitings and.Trousers, AND FULL LINE OF Gents' Furnishing Goods, Call on D. H. WELSH, York, F»a. ADVERTISEMENTS. OLLEGl!7 A® Classical Course for the Degree of A. B. II. Scientific Course for the Degree of B. S. III. Post-Graduate Course for the Degree of Ph. D. IV. Special Course in all Departments. V. Elective Studies in Junior and Senior Years. VI. New Testament Greek and Hebrew in English Bible Department. Observatory, Laboratories and new Gymnasium. Four large buildings. All buildings heated with steam from central plant. Libraries, 25,000 volumes. Fine Museum. Expenses low. Department of Hygiene and Physical Culture in charge of an experienced physician. Accessible by frequent railroad trains. Location, on BATTLEFIELD of Gettysburg; most pleasant and healthy. PREPARATORY DEPARTMENT, in separate buildings, for boyj and young men preparing for business or college, under special care of the principal and three assistants, residing with students in the building. For full particulars, apply for catalogue to HARVEY w. MCKNIGHT, D. D., LL. D., PRES'T., Penirr,sjcl)\fainf,a &,QMe>%®<, Gettysburg1!, Pa»

Issue 29.5 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gailen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to R~vxEw FOR l~mcxous; 6t2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for amwering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32i Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgx06. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1970 by REVIEW FOR R~LlCIOU. at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, MaC/- land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at addiuonal mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two yeats; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be ¯ accompanied by check or money order paya-ble tO RZVXEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where ex¢ora. partied by a remittance, should be sent to R£vI~w FOR RELIGIOUS; P. O. ~OX 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, busine~ correspondence, and orders not a¢¢ompanid by a remittance should be sent to REvll~W l~Ol~ RELIGIOUS ; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimort, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIEW ~OR RF.LIOIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building ; 539 North Grand Boulevard: Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. SEPTEMBER 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 5 ,!111; JOHN W. O'MALLEY, S.J. History, the Reformation, and Religious Renewal: Pluralistic Present and New Past Even the most cautious historian would probably be willing to subscribe to the sweeping generalization that Roman Catholicism has changed more radically in the past four years than it had in the previous four hundred. A sense of uprooting and upheaval is inevitable under such circumstances, and we should not be surprised that the resulting tension has been felt most acutely in religious communities. These communities presumably" are the places of keenest religious sensibilities and, at least until recently, the places where the traditions of the past were professedly cultivated. But the changes have often shattered these traditions and have inter-rupted the sense of continuity with the 'past. The conse-quent confusion has forced religious to turn, sometimes somewhat desperately, to any quarter which promises rescue. Somewhat paradoxically, religious even turn to history, in the hope that the long narrative of the Church's pilgrimage will throw light on the present crisis. Often the specific focus of their interest is that other era of history well known .for its religious tension and tt~rmoil, the age of the Reformation. This focus is at least in part due also to the !fact that the theology and spirituality of the Reformation era had been protracted in the Church to the very eve of Vatican II. In studying the sixteenth century many religious were to some extent ~tudying themselves. The present author, as a practicing historian of the Reformation, has frequently been asked by religious in 4- ¯ Fr. John W. O'Malley, S.J., is as-sociate professor in the department of history; University of Detroit; Detroit, Michigan 48221; . VOLUME 29, ~.970 ÷ ÷ ÷ 1. W. O'Malley, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 636 the past several years to answer the following question: Is not the present upheaval in the Church very similar to .the upheaval of the Reformation era? The following pages will attempt to answer that question and to use it as a focus to explore the unprecedented nature of the aggiornamento we are experiencing today. It is to be hoped that such an exploration will be helpful to reli-gious in trying to understand their present situation in history and in describing to them the drastic creativity which is required of them in the renewal of their own communities. "Is not the present upheaval in the Church very simi-lar ~o the upheaval of the Reformation era?" The ques-tion begs for an affarmative answer, and such an answer is indeed suggested by many obvious similarities between the sixteenth century and the twentieth century. Both centuries,, for example, experienced a challenge to papal authority; both centuries tried to revise the forms of religious life, saw large numbers of men and women leaving religious life, and so forth. However, in spite of the many similarities and in spite of the measure of consolation which an affirmative answer might bestow, the fundamental reply to the question has to be a re-sounding negative. The present upheaval is radically different from the upheaval of the sixteenth century. It is important for us to see just how it is radically different, for only then can we cope with the practical repercus-sions which such a difference has on our own lives. In order to explore this topic we must first expose two assumptions which are the basis of the discussion which is to follow. These assumptions are simple and familiar to us all, but they bear repetition because they are so fundamental. First of all, behind every action there is an idea. Ideas are power. They are dynamic in character and even the most abstract of them tends eventually to issue in action and to influence conduct. Therefore, to study an idea is to study the energetics of social change. Secondly, behind every idea there is a culture, a fabric of thought and feeling of which any given idea is a partial expression and reflection. The idea may even have been created by the culture in question, for ideas are not eternal. They are born at some particular time and in some particular place. Or if the idea was merely inherited fxom an older culture, it is modified and changed by the new culture as the new culture accepts it as its own. In the study of the history of ideas, sensitivity to the total cultural context is an absolute prerequisite for discerning an idea's birth, de-velopment, and even total transformation, in the course of its history. The idea towards which we shall direct our attention is the idea of Christian reform :or renewal. As an idea it has its own history, which is a reflection and expression of the various cultures where it was and is a vital force. This history until recently was not much investigated by historians, but it is now receiving more adequate atten-tion. We shall try to trace this history very briefly, with special emphasis on the Reformation era, in the con-viction that such an endeavor will be enlightening and helpful for us in our present crisis. In particular, we shall contrast the cultural framework which undergirded the idea of reform in the age ,of the Reformation with that which undergirds aggiornamento today. Recent studies on the origin and early development of the idea of reform in Scripture and the fathers of the Church have shown that in those early'centuTies reform meant the transformation of the individual Christian into God's image and likeness. It had not as yet occurred to Christians in any very c6herent fashion that the Church as an institution--or rather that institutions in the Church--might be subject to reform and revision. The idea of institutional reform surfaced for the first time during the so-called Gregorian Reform or Investi-ture Controversy of the eleventh century. During this period the functions and allegiances of the episcopacy were at the center of the bitter contest between pope and emperor, and it was the papacy which wanted to change the status quo by returning to what it felt was an older and sounder tradition before bishops had become sub-servient instruments of royal and imperial policy. With the Gregorian Reform the idea was inserted into the Western ecclesiastical tradition that the Church it-self was subject to reform. The impact of this idea upon later history is incalculable. From the eleventh century forward the idea would never again be absent from the story of the Church; and at some times, as in the early sixteenth and the mid-twentieth centuries, it would come to dominate and profoundly disturb that story. By the early years of the sixteentll century we can honestly say that a reform hysteria had set in. Reform had become the common preoccupation, almost obsession, of the age. What is to be said about [ireform in the sixteenth century? Perhaps the first thihg which strikes our at-tention is the almost limitles~ variety of reform ideas and reform programs. We see stretched before us a chaotic panorama in which it is hard to find order, progression, or consistency. The figure of Luther, of course, dominates the scene, and he to some degree influenced, at least by way of reaction, all reforms in the century: But we are really hard pressed to find a very obvious intellectual affinity between him and a refbrmer like Michael Servetus, who denied the Trinity and ÷ ÷ VOLUME: 29,' 1970 6:~7 I. w. O,M,a~y, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 638 who taught that the corruption of Christ's doctrine, which began with the Apostles and which was furthered by the fathers and scholastics, was brought to inglorious constimmation by contemporary ~eformers like Luther. And what direct relationship was there between an Anabaptist quietist like Conrad Grebel and an Ana-baptist visionary like John of Leyden, who made polyg-amy obligatory at Mfinster and maintained himself there in voluptuous, polygamous opulence? Even within Catholicism a great gap separates Gasparo Contarini, the conciliatory Venetian nobleman and friend of St. Ignatius, from the fierce and rigid Gian Pietro Carafa, at .whose election to the papal throne even Ignatius blanched. The more we learn about the sixteenth cen-tury the more clearly we see how complex and variegated it was. Generalization seems impossible. And the at-tempt to compare it with the twentieth century seems even more impossible, for we are all keenly aware of the variety and even contradiction which characterizes contemporary ideas of reform and aggiornamento. We have set ourselves an impossible task. ¯ On the other hand, if what we said earlier about cul-tural patterns is true, all of these reform phenomena should be able to be studied as manifestations of a common culture. There should be somewhere, if we dig deeply enough, elements manifestative of a common intellectual and emotional experience. These elements, though distinguishable from one another, also com-penetrate one another, so that in speaking of one of them we to some extent are also speaking of the others, since all are facets of the same cultural reality. We are justified, therefore, in our undertaking, especially if we keep clearly in mind how precarious it is and how subject to exception is almost every generalization. In our comparison of the sixteenth with the twentieth century we shall concentrate on two elements or phe-nomena which are particularly significant for out topic and particularly revelatory of the character of the two cultures. The first of these phenomena we shall designate as the cultural parochialism of the sixteenth century and the cultural pluralism of the twentieth. The cul-ture of the sixteenth century was a parochial culture. The great controversies of that century were carried on within what we now see to be the narrow confines of the Western intellectual tradition. One reason why the sixteenth century was an exciting century in which to live was that it initiated through its voyages of dis-covery the new age of world consciodsness which we experience today. But only the faintest glimmers of. this world consciousness had penetrated to Europe by 1517. It is true. that in the Italian Renaissance, which to some extent was contemporaneous with the Reforma-tion, there was a greater awareness of cultural diversity. Moreover, there was an attempt to come to terms with it. Both Nicholas of Cusa and Marsilio Ficino speak of the splendor which comes to religion from the diversity of rite and ritual which God permits throughout the world. But such tolerance and breadth of vision was not characteristic of the European intellectual scene as a whole. Indeed, even where these virtues were. operative they eventually tended to be snuffed out by the harsh polemics of the religious controversies. The very dictum "Scripture alone," which we associate with the Protes-tant reformers, is symptomatic of what was happen-ing. No matter what is to be said of this dictum as an expression of theological principle, from the cultural point of view it suggests narrowness and constriction of vision. The Catholic formula, "Scripture and tradi-tion," is broader and suggests an urbane and mature consciousness of complexity, but it, too, implies more restriction than the ideas of Cusa and Ficino. The re-formers--- Protestant and Catholic--railed against what they felt were the paganizing tendencies' of the Renais-sance, and we often echo their judgments even today. But much of this so-called paganizing can be more be-nignly and more accurately .interpreted as a serious at-tempt to broaden the cultural base of Christianity. The cultural parochialism of which we have been speaking was made possible and even fostered by the slow and inadequate means of communication which the sixteenth century had at its disposal. More im-portant, these slow and inadequate means made it possible for sects to develop and for governments to impose a particular and rigid religious style on whole populations. In other words, it was still possible to ex-clude those factors which would tend to develop re-ligious and cultural pluralism or to operate for a more broadly based unity. German Lutheranism, Dutch Calvinism, Spanish Catholicism could continue to perdure as distinct and seemingly relentless cultural .phenomena only because they were protected from fac-ing the challenge of cultural and religious diversity. We today have no such protection, and we cannot construct barriers to keep out what we find offensive and disturbing. In the modern world pluralism is the very air we breathe, and it is one of the most signifi-cant factors influencing us and marking us off from all men who have ever preceded us on this globe. Modern means of communication have introduced the otherwise-minded into our very homes, and we have no instrument to muffle them. We must come to terms with diversity. ÷ :÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 639 4. I. w. o'Mo~, s.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 640 Our: Christianity, therefore, and our style of renewal must come to terms with it. Ecumenism, for instance, is not simply an accidental adoi:nment to our religious and intellectual style. It is not simply a good idea that we concocted and then tried to thrust down the throat of an unwilling Church. We perhaps cannot describe it as inevitable, but we cer-tainly can describe it as symptomatic of the culture in which we live and urgently required by it if we genuinely believe in truth and honesty. Our experience of pluralism has forced us all to admit the possibility of different, complementary, con-trasting, and at times almost contradictory insights into the same data. It has forced us to realize that each of these, insights may have some validity and that no set of categories can capture any reality in all its splendor and multiplicity. This realization, has not made us gkeptics, but it has made us cautious in our judgments and aware of how relative our insights might be. Our experience of pluralism has thrust upon us a new epistemology. In the sixtbenth century the assumption which under-lay religious discussion was that truth was one and that orthodoxy was clear--clear either from Scripture or from the teaching of the Church. Cultural parochialism fostered this assumption. It allowed beliefs to perdure untested by confrontation with different beliefs. The epistemology of the sixteenth century, parochial and rigid with the academic rigidity of the scholastic de-bates, made little allowance for the possibility of plural-ism of insight. It insisted upon the exclusive validity of a single insight, with a consequent insistence upon the exclusive validity of particular categories and concepts. Truth in such a system is not multifaceted and ever some-what beyond our grasp, but monolithic and subject to our despotic contro!. It is de jure intolerant. Its particular formulations are so many weapons for use in battle ¯ against other equally parochial formulations. Polemic, therefore, is its appropriate literary style. The theology of the sixteenth century is quite cor-rectly described as polemical and controversialist theol-ogy. We perhaps fail to realize how appropriate such a style of theology was to the cultural experience and epistemological presuppositions of that century. To an intolerant truth corresponds an intolerant literary form. No other form would be honest. The only possible explanation for a person's refusal to accept the true and orthodox insight must be moral perversity. Hence, orthodoxy and virtue, heterodoxy and vice were the two sets of inseparable twins. Significantly enough, the characteristic literary form of the Italian Renaissance was the dialogue, the form which implies an awareness of diversity and a willing-ness to live with it. It was an awareness too delicate to be able to contain the religous resentments which ex-ploded in 1517. But it is not too delicate today. Dialogue is the literary form required by our epistemology, which has been conditioned by our experience of cultural pluralism. Dialogue and rapprochement are not arbi-trary creations of the ecumenist. They are necessary corollaries to being intellectually honest in the latter half of the twentieth century. Our style of renewal, therefore, cannot be apodictic, autocratic, intolerant, or suffused with old-time single-minded zeal. Our culture--that is to say, WE, as prod-ucts and creators of that culture--require something else. Our style is radically different. It is groping and tentative. It is experimental and participati~ve. It is even somewhat double-minded, for it realizes that even re-ligious reform must keep an eye on secular realities precisely as potential for religious values. The second phenomenon manifestative of the cul-tural divergence of the sixteenth century from the twentieth century is perhaps more important: the sense of history operative in the two centuries. Here, es-pecially, we must beware of giving the impression that each individual in the sixteenth or twentieth century thinks about his past in precisely the same way. In the sixteenth century, in fact, historical thought ranged from the subtle understandings of persons like Fran-cesco Guicciardini and Desiderius Erasmus to the crudest forms of apocalyptic. However, we can say that, by and large, sixteenth-century thinkers discerned some consistent and coherent pattern in the historical process, and they saw this process as directly under the divine influence. They usually arrived at their formulations of such a pattern by a very arbitrary fusion of historical fact with metahistorical speculation which they drew from Antiquity and the Middle Ages. The result was often a hodge-podge of myth, metaphysics, and unsub-stantiated historical data. From this was constructed a pattern of expansion or decline or cycle or cataclysm or culmination which was presented to the reader as God's design. Thus the author was able to rise above history's mystery and to protect himself from history's terror. There was one very important consequence of this approach to history: it tended in some fashion to absolutize the past. The religious thinkers of the six-teenth century all tended to see past events, especially religious events, as issuing from God's hand and as under His direct influence. They were not particularly Renewa/ VOLUME 29, 1970 641 ~. W. O'Mall~, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 642 concerned with the singular, contingent, concrete hu-man causes which produced particular phenomena. They were concerned rather to see them as products of di-vine providence, as r~eflections of the divinity, as neces-sary elements in a predetermined pattern. They thus tended to endow them with an absolute value which defied reconciliation with the contingent historical cir-cumstances under which they had come into being. The contrast of this style of historical thinking with our own is dramatic. We all have acquired to a greater or lesser degree some measure of historical conscious-ness ~s defined in terms of modern historical method and hermeneutics. What this means is that we approach the past as a human phenomenon which is to be under-stood in terms of human thought and feeling. Each person, event, doctrine, and document of the past is the product of contingent causes and subject to modification by the culture in which it exists. Everything in the human past is culturally conditioned, which is just another way of saying that it is culturally limited. Such awareness of cultural conditioning distinguishes modern historical consciousness from that which pre-ceded it, and it is an awareness which has been growing ever more acute since the nineteenth century. The text of Luke's Gospel could have been produced only by first-century Judaic-Hellenistic Christianity. Fifteenth-century humanism would have created a completely different text, different in concept as well as in language. Awareness of such cultural differentiation helps make Scripture scholars today much more keenly conscious of how Scripture is the word of man than they are of how it is the word of God. Until quite recently the very opposite was the case. What modern historical consciousness enables us to understand more clearly than it was eve~ understood before, therefore, is that every person, event, doctrine, and document of the past is the product of very specific and unrepeatable contingencies. By refusing to consider them as products of providence or as inevitable links in an ineluctable chain, it deprives them of all absolute character. It demythologizes them. It "de-providential-izes" them. It relativizes them. The importance of such relativization is clear when we consider the alternative. If a reality of the past is not culturally relative, it is culturally absolute. It is sacred and humanly unconditioned. There is no possibility of a critical review of it which would release the present from its authoritative grasp. For one reason or another an individual might.reject a particular institution or set of values as not representing the authentic tradition of the past. But. there is no way to reject the past as such. There is no way to get rid of history. The two styles of historical thinking which we have just been describing radically condition the idea of re-form. If we were to describe in a word the funda-mental assumption which underlay the idea of reform in the sixteenth century, it would be that reform was to be effected by a return to the more authentic religion of a bygone era. Somewhere in the past there was a Golden Age untarnished by the smutty hand of man, an age when doctrine was pure, morals were upright, and institutions were holy. It was this doctrine, these morals, and these institutions which reform was to restore or continue. According to this style of thinking Christ somehow or other became the sanctifier and sanctioner of some existing or pre-existing order, and that order was thus imbued with transcendent and inviolable validity. For centuries many Christians thought that such an order was the Roman Empire, and that is why the myth of the Empire's providential mission and its duration to the end of the world perdured many centuries after the Empire ceased to be an effective reality. According to this style of thinking all the presumptions favor obedi-ence and conformity. Protest and dissent can only rarely, if ever, be justified. There is no way to see Christ as contradicting the present and rejecting the past. Such a style of thinking is foreign to our own. Even though as Christians we attribute a transcendent mean-ing to the person of Jesus and therefore attribute a special primacy to those documents which resulted from the most immediate contact with him, we cannot see the first Christian generation as a Golden Age. Scoiologi-cally speaking, it was the charismatic generation. His-torically speaking, it was a generation like all others-- human, contingent, imperfect, relative. The formula-tions of Christian doctrine in the great early councils must be subjected to the same radical criticism. We do not easily find in them a harvest of eternal and immu-table truth. Intellectually, therefore, we repudiate the sixteenth-century's historical style. Emotionally, however, we find a certain satisfaction in it of which it is difficult to divest ourselves. What satisfies us in this style is its fufidamental premise that somewhere in the past there is an answer to our questions and a solution to our prob-lems. If we could only get back to the ':true mind" of somebody or other, how easy it then would be to im-plement our reform. How easy it then would be to save ourselves from the risk of having to answer our own VOL:UME" 29, 1970 643 ~. W. O'Mallt'y, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯ 6,t4 questions and solve our own problems. This is the emotional consolation which such a style of historical thinking provides. We neatly fit ourselves, for instance, into a preconceived pattern of homogeneous develop-ment, and then we dip into the Golden Past to discover how to behave as the pattern unfolds itself. We are secure. We have been saved from history's terror. No such salvation, however, is open to us of the twentieth century. Modern historical consciousness has relativized and demythologized the past, thus liberat-ing us from it. But we are liberated only to find our-selves on our own. The past has no answers for us, and we face the future without a ready-made master-plan. It is this fact which makes our style of renewal radically different from every reform which has ever preceded it. We are painfully conscious that if we are to have a master-plan we must create it ourselves. In spite of certain superficial similarities, therefore, the problems of the sixteenth-century Reformation are not those of twentieth-century aggiornamento. Underly-ing these two reforms are two radically different cul-. tural experiences, which have radically transformed the idea of reform. Our twentieth-century idea of reform has been conditioned by our experience of religious and intellectual pluralism, and this has transformed it from pronouncement to conversation. Our idea of reform has also been conditioned by our modern historical consciousness, and this has divested us of the consola-tion of a past which answers our questions and tells us what to do. The implications of the foregoing reflections for re-newal within religious communities should be obvious. First of all, our problems will not be solved from on high by some sort of autocratic decree. Before any reasonable decision is reached on any major question a certain amount of open discussion and communal dis-cernment is an absolute prerequisite. The exercise of "obedience" is thus so drastically changed that we can well wonder if the word, with all its connotations, is really an adequate expression of what we now mean. In any case, participation and tolerance of diversity of viewpoint are now such pervasive realities of the cul-ture in which we live that there will be no viable + solutions to any problems without taking them into ac- + ¯ count. ÷ Secondly, although we do want to get back to the "true mind" of our founders, we must realize that we are in a very different cultural context than the founders were. We have to be bold in interpreting their "mind," and we must realize that even they do not answer our questions in our terms. Keligious renewal today, for the first time in the history o[ the Church, is more con-scious o~ its break with the authentic past than it is of its continuity with it. This may not be a very consoling realization, but it is one which we must constantly be aware o~ as we try to face the ~uture. Indeed, we face a new future because to a large extent we have created ~or ourselves a new past. j. DOUGLAS McCONNELL Good Stewardship Is Management and Planning J. Douglas Mc- Connell is a mem-ber of the Stanford Research Imfitute; Menlo Park, Cali-fornia 94025. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Thank God for the courage and wisdom of the fathers of the Second Vatican Councill Their decree, Perfectae caritatis, charging all institutions and orders to under-take renewal, may have provided a means that will en-able the talents of both men and women religious to be developed more fully and utilized more effectively in serving the People of God. It may also be the means by which some (not all) orders will survive in the years ahead. There is no need here to discuss the declining numbers of[ novices, the increasing numbers not taking final vows or opting for exclaustration, the growing costs of retirement, and the trend in age distributions. These are symptoms, not causes, and their disappearance rests entirely on how the orders adapt themselves to this, the latter third of the twentieth century. Historically, the least practiced parable within the Catholic Church has to have been the parable of the talents, and this is particularly true insofar as orders of religious women have been concerned. They have truly been hand-maidens of the Church; they have occupied subservient roles and have been encouraged to remain in secondary roles--interpreting kindly the motives and action of others, shunning criticism, and avoiding evaluation of another's fitness for her work or position--yet they possess tremendous capabilities. For the better part of a decade Stanford Research In-stitute (SRI) has undertaken research projects in the area of corporate planning, and for many more years in the field of management. In that time, working with members of the Fortune 500 and numbers of relatively small businesses, SRI has developed a philosophy or a set of principles that underlies the physical tasks in the planning process and exercise of management functions. In the last three years we have been privileged to work with the following orders in assessing their present and future status: Sisters of the Holy Cross, Notre Dame, Indiana; the Sisters of Charity of Mount St. Joseph, Cincinati; and the Sisters of Charity of Mount St. Vincent, New York. The 'philosophy of corporate planning has proved to be as effective for religious orders as for corporations. We do not have "the answer," and we are the first to admit that our approach evolves a little with every study and improves; but we do have a system that is logical, comprehensive, participative, timely, and oriented toward results. The system SRI follows is outlined here because we believe it offers sound means of planning for. the future, of implementing change without chaos, and of exercising true collegiality and subsidiarity. A number of sisters have even called it "the key to survival." What Is Planning? All of us plan to some extent whenever we think ahead to select a course of action. But this is a weak way of defining planning. SRI prefers to define effective planning as a network of decisions that direct the intent, guide the preparation for change, and program action designed to produce specific results. Note that the emphasis is on goal-directed action. Ob-jectives can be determined and achieved if properly planned for. The network of decisions recognizes the in-terrelationships between internal and external factors and that earlier decisions may greatly influence later ones. On more than one occasion I have heard of a diocese "giving" a high school to an order. The deci-sion to accept, in at least two instances, has meant a considerable drain on the human and financial re-sources of the orders concerned and effectively com-mitted them to that apostolate for many years, irrespec-tive of the priorities of the sisters in the congregations. Throughout our private and corporate lives we make decisions under conditions of uncertainty; and we trust, with varying degrees of probability, that the outcomes will be as anticipated. The formal process of planning described briefly here does not guarantee success, how-ever that may be defined, but it considerably enhances the probability. SRI does not talk about short and long range planning as separate functions. Planning is the function that ex-tends into the future as far as is considered desirable. If a college operated by an order requires 50 percent of its faculty to be religious (so it can provide Christian wit- 4. 4- + Stewardship VOLUME 2% 1970 647 ]. D~ .McConnell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS '648 ness and remain economically viable), the retirement pattern for the next six or seven years determines what type of graduate fellowships should be offered for both the coming academic year and the several that. follow. The awarding of fellowships in its turn requires that other decisions be made.This year's budget and deci-sions should be determined on the basis of their con-tribution to the long range objectives of the institution or order, and not be de facto determiners of the direc-tion the organization takes. The Genius Founder Our research studies and project work concerned with the nature of organizations, corporate development, and successful management have indicated that, in almost every case, successful organizations of all kinds have been the brainchild of a single person or, in rare instances, of two in partnership. Names such as Vincent de Paul, St. Ignatius Loyola, Elizabeth Seton, Catherine McAuley, St. Francis Xavier Cabrini, Baden Powell, General Booth, Henry Ford, Alfred Sloan-Charles Kettering, Gen-eral Wood, Hewlett-Packard, the Pilkinton Brothers, Andrew Carnegie, and H. J. Heinz come readily to mind. By analyzing the attributes and state of mind of the "genius founder" of the business enterprise, SRI devel-oped a framework of tasks designed to re-create the mental processes of the genius entrepreneur within the management team of the corporation. Let me explain further. As we see it, the success of the "genius founder" is in large measure caused by his un-swerving dedication to setting high goals and .to reach-ing for them. He has vision on which he bases his own objectives and sets his own goals. And he does this not simply on the basis of last year's results plus some growth factor or what has always been done, but on the basis of his own perception of his own capabilities and the drive to satisfy his own needs. These attributes of vision and ~ommitment in goal setting are most impor-tant. Other distinguishing attributes of our "genius founders" appear to us to be: oA willingness to assume risk oA sense of inquisitiveness or unceasing curiosity ~Insight into relationships between concepts, objec-tives, needs, and needs satisfaction; the ability to see implications or utility ~Ability to make sound value judgments as to what is central and peripheral to attaining his objectives ~Creativity, be it in the area of product, technology, or a new marketing approach oFeasibility judgment based on foresight, experience, and a problem-solving ability oAbility to marshall the resources needed to accom-plish his objectives and goals oAdministrative ability to organize the resources to accomplish his goals and satisfy his inner needs. Organized Entrepreneurship To translate the "genius founder" or "genius entre-preneur" concept to the complex organization, SRI de-veloped a methodological framework that we call "or-ganized entrepreneurship." This framework provides a process of planning that meets the criteria of compre-hensiveness, logic (including provision for retraceable logic), participation by the corporate membership, time-liness, generation of rapid understanding based on a common frame of reference, and an orientation toward results, that is, the decisions reached can be acted on and managed. Through a series of tasks it also repro-duces corporately the distinguishing attributes of the entrepreneur. Let us now briefly go through the planning steps with their various tasks to show you how they fit together in a logical pattern. Step 1: Determination of Corporate Objectives Many institutes and orders have approached the question of who they are and what they want to achieve in overly simplistic terms. Too often purpose is expressed only in broad conceptual statements such as "the glorification of the Lord," "mercy," and "charity" and in terms such as "care for the homeless, the sick, and the aged," and "Christian education." Motherhood statements of a broad nature serve a unifying purpose but tend to let the members of a congregation under-take any work whether it really fits the primary purposes of the order or not. What a congregation is and what it is about are com-plex issues, and definitional statements formulated must take into account the expectations of the several stake-holder groups, the corporate skills and resources, and environmental change. One implication of this is that objectives have to be reviewed periodically. The end result is a family of objectives or, as people like Grangerx and Boyd and Levy2 have termed it, a hierarchy of objectives. a Charles H. Granger, "The Hierarchy of Objectives," Harvard Business Review, May-June 1964, pp. 63-74. ~ Harper W. Boyd and Sidney J. Levy, "What Kind o£ Corporate Objectives?" Journal o] Marketing, October 1966, pp. 53-8. Stewaraship VOLUME 29, 1970 64:9 ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. D. McConnell REVIEW FOR'RELIGIOUS 650 When defining the broad purpose of an organization, one has to recognize the sometimes conflicting interests of the stakeholders, that is, the members, the diocese(s),. the suppliers, and the customers (parishes, students, pa-tients, and the like) and yet resolve the conflict. Be-neath this broad umbrella a hierarchy of objectives is formulated for each stakeholder group, apostolate area, and the generalate of the congregation. As one goes through the hierarchy, the objectives become more specific in their direction, their distance, and the rate at which they can be achieved. The specification of objec-tives also facilitates the development of key criteria for evaluating performance and, sociologically, it recognizes the reality of the situation. The refusal of many clergy to accept Pope Paul's ruling on birth control was really a move to realign those matters considered to be within the realm of individual conscience, those .considered to be within the realm of the clergy, and those considered to obe essential to the faith and therefore within the realm of the Holy See. The present thrust to clean up the environment is an expression of the expectations of the-community stakeholders whose objectives have not been accorded rightful emphasis in the past by a society that has acceded too often to the claims of industry. To develop this hierarchy of objectives it is necessary to undertake a series of analyses. Stakeholder .4 nalysis The typical stakeholders in a congregation of religious are the members, .the diocese(s), functional or apostolate groups, customers, suppliers, financial institutions, and the community within which it operates. For each stakeholder group the governing board at-tempts to answer the following broad questions: oWhat does this group want from the congregation? oWhat expectations does this group have for the con-gregation? ~To what extent are these expectations being met? ~To what extent can the congregation meet them, recognizing .that it is impossible to do everything? Expectations will relate to such items as number and quality of services provided, fees charged, availability, citizqnship, jobs provided, behavior, ethics, and morality. The analyses should take into account the present balance and reconciliation of stakeholder interests, rec-ognizing conflicting interest and expectations as well as attempting to assess what is changing that will affect future expectations. A realistic stakeholder analysis within most dioceses would reveal the extent to which the expectations of local parish priests are being met at the expense of sacrificing the interests of the other stakeholders--the students, the parents, and lthe teachers (lay and religious) staffing the schools. An~ interesting commercial example is the Unilever Company in Africa, which made realistxc stakeholder analyses and surwved the nationalistic fervor of transition fromI colonies to countries by becoming a manufacturer rather than a trader, an economic developer of local resources rather than an extractor, and a partner rather tha~n an oppo-nent. Today, Unilever has a stronger position than ever in African markets. Special studies are almost mandatory because the senior corporate managementI group can hardly be expected to know the basic underlying factors determlmng expectations and perceptions of the stake-holder groups. The provisional stakeholder analysis for ~any commu-nity would include such factors as the percentage of families directly employed by the ~nstxtut,e; the con-gregation's contribution to and percentage of local taxes, if any; the number of members in religiohs teaching, social, civic, and political jobs (full and pa~t time); the annual contributions by the congregation Ito area or-ganizations; sponsorship of local groups; pol~itical action (lobbying, testifying regardxng leg~slatxon) at all levels; and local community attitudes toward the institutions of the congregation. In overseas operations it should also include studies of such factors as ~he political climate, stability of government, acceptan~ce, cultural variables, and attitudes toward overseas-based congrega-tions. Customer analysis will vary by type of apostolate. An orphanage would have different criteria froth those of a college or a retreat center, for example. Nevertheless, all analyses should include estimates for each class of serv-ice, the total potential "customers," the actual numbers served, the "market" share by value and volume, and an evaluation of quality of service as perceivec.lI by custom-ers. As is readily apparent, data on stakeholtler expecta-tions have to be gathered from a wide variety of sources: internally within the congregation, from independent appraisers, and from those actually served. Determining Corporate Potential The final component of this first task of ~tetermining corporate objectives is the establishment of a level of ~ . aspiration in the form of the corporate potentxal. Henry Ford estimated his potential as prowd~ng e~,ery Ameri-can family with an automobile. William Hesketh Lever wanted to make cleanliness commonplace in an era when Queen Victoria took a bath "once a week, whether she ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 651 4. 4. 4. ~. D. McConnell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS needed it or not." Our genius entrepreneurs have al-ways reached high, and this has been true of religious like Saint Vincent de Paul or Martin Luther King. The SRI approach is to treat potential as an expres-sion of the governing board's attitude to the congrega-tion's future. Potential can be expressed both in Ford's and Lever's conceptual terminology and also in more pragmatic terms such as the amount of patient care pro-vided, number of students educated, social work case loads, financial soundness, professional hours contrib-uted, and average Sunday morning attendance at Mass. Corporate potential is based on all key-planning issues derived from studying the social and economic outlook, the apostolate areas in which the company is interested, the opportunities for more effective resource utilization, the likely effects of important stakeholder expectations, and a congregation's own conclusions about its level of ambition and strength of commitment. As we see it, the determination of potential stimu-late~, motivates, and enables speculation about its attain-ability. Projected results are not predictions in the com-monly accepted sense but are simply estimates of what could happen when the assumptions made turn out to be valid. The concept aims at stimulating the setting of ambitious congregational and apostolic goals. The result of this phase of the planning process is the setting of a hierarchy of corporate objectives, including a set of ambitious yet realistic human resources and financial objectives. For an order of women religious today to expect to maintain a membership of 1,500 highly qualified professionals by recruiting 50 to 60 novices a year is totally unrealistic. Sound corporate ob-jectiv. es, together with a clear concept of what religious life is all about, should enable a congregation, however, to arrest and then reverse the currently familiar down-ward trend. Step 2: The Assembling o[ In[ormation The assembling of information consists of four main tasks: An in-depth evaluation of what is being done now, an analysis of the skills and resources of the con-gregation, an evaluation of environmental change, and an appraisal of planning issues. The goals and objectives of the congregation and its apostolate areas are explicated to obtain sets of criteria for the evaluations that have to .be undertaken. Once the criteria are established, it is relatively simple (1) to de-ten- nine what information is needed and the data sources necessary for an objective in-depth analysis and evaluation, (2) to develop instruments to collect data not already in existence, and (3) to put all these to-gether. Analysis of the skills and resources of the organization requires three studies: one of government, one of human resources, and one of financial resources. SKI suggests the development of a computerized personnel inventory. This enables detailed analysis and projections to be un-dertaken, as well as aiding in matching skills and in-terests to apostolic needs. Studies of environmental change can and should be obtained from a number of sources. They may be as broad as Kahn and Wiener's ,Economics to the Year 2018/' .~ or as specialized as a local city planning com-mission's forecasts of school population. Most congrega-tions are largely unaware of the amount of information on environmental change that is available just for the asking. In planning the future staffing for elementary schools in a diocese, one order learned that a school would disappear completely within fi~e years because the city planned a freeway through the area, which would mean the razing of almost all homes in the parish. The trends in the age distxibution of an area may indicate the development of different needs in future health care (less obstetric and more geriatric and cardiac care, for instance) and types of social services offered. Undertaking environmental analysis is one thing; ensuring its acceptance and use by management is an-other. One large sophisticated American company un-dertook a test market study in Japan to see if a market existed for a type of convenience snack food. The cor-porate management were ethnocentric about this prod-uct to the point that they refused to believe unfavora-ble test market results the first and second times around and insisted the study be replicated a third time. Busi-ness has no monopoly on this form of myopia, and much of the Church's attitudes toward parochial education appears analogous. The final task in the assembling of information, the appraisal of planning issues, is undertaken by the planning group. Following house or apostolate briefings, planning issues are solicited from those judged to have "management perspective"; to contact all members of the congregation has been our rule to date. Each mem-ber submits as many issues as he desires on a standard-ized form. In the first planning cycle the issues tend to be highly oriented to the present, but experience shows that in subsequent cycles the time horizon expands con-siderably. Typically, the submitted issues identify the 8 Herman Kahn and Arthur J. Wiener, Economics to the Fear 2018 (New York: Macmillan. 1967). 4- 4- St~ardship VOLUME 29, 1970 1. D. Mc~onne// REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 654 ~functionM point of impact on the institution or con-gregation, the nature of the impact, whatever supporting evidence exists, and suggested ranges of possible action. Issues are then grouped into families of issues that have common causes, that yield to a common solution, or that can be assigned to a single responsible person. You may ask: "Why solicit planning issues from mem-bers as a major basic input to the planning process?" The underlying assumptions are that people will do only what they see is of interest and importance to them and that each individual's perception is his reality. Members of a congregation cannot be expected to devote time and energy to matters they do not consider relevant to them as religious. The system also provides government with an excel-lent upwards channel of communication and, by per-mitting every member to participate and contribute ac-tively, enhances the probabilities of acceptance of the plan and a commitment to achieve it. This participative philosophy is touched on again later in this article. Step 3: Development of Planning Actions The major superior and the members of the governing board then read through each family of planning issues, screening out those where action has already been taken or is imminent, or where incorrect perception is in-volved. In these cases executive action is indicated. Each family of issues is then reviewed in the light of the corporate objectives, special studies' highlights, the analysis of resources, and the "real" message indicated by the issues. The members of the governing group then take each family of issues and identify the kind of action it suggests, what is at stake in terms of costs and benefits, the costs (both out of pocket and opportunity) of taking action, the degree of urgency, the first and second order implications of the kind of action sug-gested, and the management personnel who should at-tend to it. These individual efforts in translating issues to responses are then reviewed by the whole of the ex-ecutive group whose discussions strive to combine re-lated actions into broader, more fundamental actions and to identify important actions still missing. Use of a task force to assist in this process may be helpful. Suggested actions emerging from this review should then be tested by whatever means deemed appropriate. Feasible actions are then grouped by three or more levels of priority. Step 4: Preparation of the Provisional Plan In this s~ep of the planning process the proposals for action are translated into specific action assignments that, when completed in detail, provide the goals, action, and controls portion of the provisional plan. This provi-sional plan corresponds with the marshaling ability of our "genius entrepreneur." We suggest the use of a specific form that, when ap-proved by the assignment group and accepted by the action assignee, represents an authorization to proceed and a cohtract to perform the specified action in the terms stated. One important set of Form 3s, as we call them, relate to the continuance of present operations and thus ensure that all aspects of the congregation's activities form part of the plan. Before final approval the Form 3s flows through the finance and planning offices, where calculations of total costs and benefits are made for each priority level and are compared with total resources available. This pro-vides the governing board with a means to decide how many and which tasks can be undertaken within the planning period. The actions, tasks, or projects selected are then built into estimates of benefits and costs to see the effects on congregational performance and where the plan will posit the congregation with respect to its current per-formance, intermediate goals, and movement toward at-tainment of the longer range objectives. At this point the planning group updates the special studies' highlights; assembles the draft statements on corporate objectives and key assumptions; and produces summaries of the action programs in terms of timing, pro forma financial statements (operating statement, balance sheet, cash flow), and resource requirements (manpower, equipment, facilities, and capital)--broken down by organizational units, priorities, and whether they are current or developmental operations. The natural advocate of each action proposed then describes it and leads discussion within the governing board to double-check the plan in terms of the realism of goals, schedules, and cost/benefit estimates, of agreed-on performance standards (that is, the rules of the game), of interdependence among organizational units, of effects of unrealistic goals on the rest of the congregation, and of whether each action proposed is justified in terms of the congregation's objectives. This may sound like a detailed process that takes a lot of central government's time, and it does. But it ensures that: oThe government group understands all aspects of the proposed plan. oWithin the context of the emerging corporate pur-pose and strategy there is a review of program con-÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 655 ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. D. M~mme~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 656 tent, a rank ordering of programs, and anallocation of resources in accordance with priorities. oAn appraisal of various program combinations oc-curs, highlighting the relative emphasis on continu-ing present activities and developing new ones, the magnitude of effort required to reach each poten-tial, and the timing and sequence of interrelated programs. oAfter final decisions and allocations are made, the provisional plan is put in final form and presented by the major superior to the board for approval, and then approved programs are channeled to ac-tion assignees. The first year o£ the plan is the congregation's budget. The congregation is now at the point of managing by plan, which parallels the "genius entrepreneur" charac-teristic of administrative ability. It has succeeded in rep-licating the characteristics of the "genius entrepreneur" in a corporate framework. In subsequent periods the congregation recycles through the planning process, and the family of plans is updated and reissued. The first year of the plan as up-dated becomes the operating budget and the final year of the plan is extended. Here perhaps a word of warning is in order. Remember that lead time is an absolute necessity. It takes three to five years before major moves have a real impact on a corporation, and SRI believes that the same will hold true for congregations of religious. Maior in-depth evaluations are probably required only about every five years. In the interim period the special studies, updating of stakeholder analyses, and solicitation of planning issues from members are all that is likely to be required. Conclusion Our experience has been that the organized entre-preneurship model works. In the five years (this is the sixth) that SRI has been conducting executive seminars in business planning, more than 600 executives from over 300 companies representing every continent of the globe have participated. Many corporations, such as Coca-Cola, Owens-Corning Fiberglas, Lockheed, Merck, and Cyanamid, have been using one or more variations of the model with considerable success. The model de-scribed here is the adaptation that has been developed for congregations of religious despite the difficulties of measuring benefits and some kinds of costs when non-financial criteria are applicable. It is too early to say to what degree the orders SRI has assisted with planning have benefited, but there is every reason to believe that they are adapting with the times and will continue to be dynamic forces in the Church and wider society in the years ahead. Highly idealistic, yet realistic, spiritual and temporal goals and objectives have been determined. Honest objective evaluations have been undertaken, recommendations have been made, plans for their implementation have been drawn up, and these are being put into effect. Government has been democratized and strengthened. Management sys-tems have been introduced. And all of this has been done by directly involving some 250 members of each order in task forces and less directly involving all mem-bers through solicitation of information, opinions, at-titudes, and issues important to them. The final plan is theirs and they are committed to it. This motivation alone enhances the probabilities of success. In addition, the management skills of these congregations have been added to greatly. The sense of community has been en-hanced by the reaffirmation of congregational goals and objectives, the open realization of the pluralism inherent in any large group of people, and the translation from concept to action of both subsidiarity and collegiality. Another vital factor that enhances the probabilities of the orders strengthening themselves as a result of the introduction of modern management techniques and planning as part of their renewal is the quality of .their leadership. It takes strong, forward-looking leaders to see the benefits from and to commit their members to a major planning project such as this and then see that it reaches fruition. Good management is good stewardship of resources to attain goals and objectives and to provide the greatest benefits for all stakeholders with the resources available. One essential component of good management is plan-ning. ÷ ÷ ÷ S~ardshi~ VOLUME 29, 1970 657 LOUIS G. MILLER, C.Ss.R. The Social Responsibility of Religious Louis G. Miller, (~,Ss.R., is on the staff of Liguori Publication in Li-guori, Mo. 65057. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 658 It is in the temper of our times that religious who take the vow of poverty are under close scrutiny. The youthful generation has a sharp eye for phoniness, and they are quick to draw attention to the gap that seems to exist between professing a vow of poverty and the actual living of a poor life. The matter concerns the individual religious and it also concerns the religious order or congregation as a whole. The following reflections have to do with one aspect of the problem which, in my opinion, religious communities have, generally speaking, neglected in the past. I mean the responsibility of devoting some part of the community funds to investment in projects designed to help relieve the most pressing social problem of our time: the widening gulf between the haves and the have nots in our society. Before developing my theme, let me state that I am well aware of the self-sacrificing work being done by religious in their parishes and in teaching and nursing programs for the poor and deprived. When a parish staffed by members of a religious order goes through the inevitable cycle and changes from middle-class to low-income parishioners, the people stationed there pitch in, ordinarily, and try to adapt to the new situation that is thrust upon them with energetic zeal. What we are concerned with in this article is social consciousness on the provincial level. In the ordinary course of development, a province will accumulate funds, and it will seek ways to invest these funds. The interest from these investments goes to the support of educational institutions and missionary projects. There are two ways of doing this. A religious community can invest its funds under the single motivating principle that the investments be safe and that they bring the highest possible return. This is the course followed by many a conscientious bursar or procurator, and in the past, few questioned it. Another way of going about .the matter of investing funds would be to look for ways and means of applying them to the alleviation of the pressing social crisis of our time. No one can be unaware that such a crisis exists. It finds expression in the widening gulf between rich and poor, the increasing bitterness in the racial confrontation, and the alienation between generations that seems to result from the other factors. In Vatican II's Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life there is a very apt expression of community responsibility in this regard. After noting that "poverty voluntarily embraced in imitation of Christ provides a witness which is highly esteemed, especially today," the Decree goes on to say: Depending on the circumstances of their location, communi-ties as such should aim at giving a kind of corporate witness to their own poverty. Let them willingly contribute something from their own resources to the other needs otr the Church, and to the support of the poor, whom religious should love with the tenderness of Christ (Number 13). As we well know, the young appear to find it.difficult to put their faith and trust in any kind of "establish-ment" today. They only too readily suppose that an institution of its very nature is so hamstrung by long-standing traditions that it cannot move in the direction of new and imaginative ventures. Over and above the tremendous work being done by religious in, for example, inner city projects; over and above occasional cash donations to worthy causes, I believe we need something in the nature of a symbolic gesture on the level of capital fund investment. I believe this would serve as a large factor in winning the confidence of young people that we are indeed willing to back up our words with our deeds, and that as an institution we can take a forward step. The heart of the social crisis today, most authorities agree, is the housing problem. The United States Commission on Civil Rights calls this the "most ubiquitous and deeply rooted civil rights problem in America." The Koerner Report agrees and makes it clear that its dimensions are so great that if a solution is not found within a few years, the resultant pressures could produce riots far more terrible than those our country experienced two or three years ago. The plain fact of the matter is that while each year 1.5 million new family homes are built in the United States, nearly all of them are on a de facto segregated basis. Since World War II the FHA and VA have financed $120,000,000 in new housing. According to a ÷ ÷ Social l~sponsibitity VOL~bl~ 2% k970 .I. + L. G. MC.iSllse.Rr,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6~0 survey made two years ago by the American Friends' Service Commission, less than two percent of this housing has been available, kealistically available, to non-whites. Each year we get larger white belts in our suburbs and more compressed black cores in our cities. The black core is continually compressed inward upon itself. Recently in St. Louis representatives of the president's Commission on Civil Rights, under the chairmanship of Father Theodore Hesburgh, after long hearings on the situation there, issued a depressing report that, although legally integrated housing is in force, de facto segregation in the great majority of suburbs is still very much the order of the day. He was quoted as saying: "Everybody we interviewed admitted that we have a grave problem; but nobody knows what to do about it." I propose that we direct some of our provincial invest-ments, perhaps a tithe of 10 percent, to the alleviation of this de facto discrimination in housing. In doing so, we would not of course be pioneers among church groups. There are available for study a number of interesting examples of what can be done and has been done. In Akron, Ohio, there is a nonprofit interfaith organization, organized in 1964, called INPOST, spon-sored by local Episcopal, Lutheran, Methodist, and Presbyterian churches. INPOST has directed several million dollars of investment into a complex of 108 units of low-cost housing, 72 units of high-rise housing, and 28 town houses. It is hoped that this complex will become a model for similar developments across the country. The diocese of Peoria for the next three years will advance $35,000 annually toward urban renewal and poverty programs in their area, with special emphasis on housing projects. We have noticed in the news recently that the Chicago Jesuit province recently made available $100,000 to be used as bond money to try to keep black families from being evicted from their homes. These are families with no equity in their homes even years after purchase at inflated prices, and legally able to be evicted on missing one payment. The Franciscan Sisters of Wheaton, Illinois, have announced an $8,000,000 plan to build and operate as nonprofit sponsors a residential complex for senior citizens and middle-income families in that area. The diocese of Detroit has been a leader in approving at least one $74,000 loan as seed money for testing the feasibility of having houses prefabricated by the hard-core unem-ployed for erection in the inner city. There is a national organization,, with headquarters in Washington, D. C., called SOHI, or "Sponsors of Open House Investment." Congressman Donald M. Frazer is its chairman, and numbered in its long list of sponsors is a host of distinguished Americans of all creeds and a variety of professional competences. It seeks to promote investment by individuals or by non-profit institutions of about 10 percent of their available investment capital in housing that is open to all. The organization does not itself invest. But it alerts indi-viduals and nonprofit groups to investment opportuni-ties in equal housing. It seeks to bring together investors of good will and housing professionals who are com-mitted to open occupancy. It operates on the principle that if a person cannot do anything himself to help solve the housing problem, his funds, if he has money to invest, can be an eloquent voice to help in the terrible silence of the decent in facing up to the housing problem that exists in our Country today. Under the slogan "National Neighbors" it seeks to build bridges of understanding between people, whatever their race or color. The Headquarters of SOHI is located at 1914 Connecticut Ave., N. W., Washington, D. C. 20009. Objection to these proposals can be made, of course, on the grounds that there is a smaller interest rate on such investments, and they are not as safe as blue chip stocks. Also, the objector might continue, the religious community needs all the money it can scrape together in these difficult times to support the various projects already in operation. But I submit that this does not absolve us from our social responsibility. If things are tough for us, they are much tougher for a great many people in the have-not group. They are a lot tougher even for people who have the money, but who can't buy a home in a decent neighborhood because their skin is black. If the social problem in our country is not met and dealt with, the most gilt edged investments will not be of much use or solace in the turmoil and violence that may follow. ÷ ÷ ÷ so~d VOLUME 29, 1970 661 SISTER M. RITA FLAHERTY, R.S.M. Psychological Needs of CeBbates and Others ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Rita is chairman of the Department of Psy-chology; C~rlow College; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 662 Today when the value of celibacy--to which so many thousands of priests and religious are committed--is being questioned, it seems important that every facet of the problem be examined. The questioning seems to be the result of: (1) Vatican II's emphasis on the true value of marriage as a way of life that can lead to the highest sanctity and spiritual fulfillment, (9) the research of Biblical schoIars which raises questions about the time, place, circumstances, and even authenticity of those words of Christ which were formerly quoted in defense of celibacy, (3) the difficulty of practicing celi-bacy in a culture that places a high premium on sexual pleasure, and (4) the emotional difficulties that can arise as a result of deprivation of this important physical and psychological need. While all aspects of this problem deserve close study, it is with the last aspect that this paper will be concerned. In spite of all these problems and new discoveries, there are many religious and priests who cannot ignore what they believe is the prompting of the Spirit to live a celibate life. These people who choose to live in the unmarried state are entitled, it would seem, to have this freedom and also to have any help from psychologists or others who can aid them in solving some of the problems that may arise as a result of that choice. Although this study is directed toward the needs of celibates, actually much of the material is applicable to both married and unmarried alike. Basic psychological needs are to a great extent universal, differing only in emphasis and means of satisfaction from one cultural group to another. In studying the behavior of humans, psychologists in general would conclude that all behavior is motivated, that is, it arises from some need within man. Behavior, as defined by psychologists, is an attempt to provide satisfaction for a need. What is a need? What happens when a need is experienced? A need is a state o[ tension or disequilib-rium that results from some lack within the person. When this need is felt, it causes the person to become tense and restless; it activates him to perform some action in order to relieve the need--to get rid of the tension and to achieve a state of ~atisfaction or equilib-rium. A man who is watching a television 'show may not be conscious of his need for food, but he does become restless while watching and jumps up at the commercial and goes to the refrigerator to find something to eat. This behavior is directed towards a goal that will relieve the tension from hunger. Hunger is classified as a physical need, along with thirst, need for sleep, for oxygen, for elimination, for sex, and for many other activities that help to maintain a state of physical satisfaction. Each of these physical needs is tied in with a biological system within the body which in most cases depends on satisfaction of the physical need for survival. One cannot imagine a man being deprived of oxygen for more than eight minutes or deprived of water for more than a week or of food for much more than a month, without dying. Therefore when the person becomes aware of the lack of oxygen, water, or food he becomes agitated and rest-less and gradually filled with tension until he finds a suitable object to satisfy his need. And so it is with all the other physical needs, .including sex, except that the need for sex seems to be the only one which is not necessary for the individual's preservation of life--it is, however, very important in the preservation of the race. For this reason celibates need not worry about endangering their lives, but they must expect a certain amount of frustration and tension resulting from the deprivation of this basic physiological drive which in man is also part of his whole personality. However, physical needs comprise only one of three categories that may be termed human needs. One must also consider psychological and spiritual needs in studying human behavior. Although many psychologists discuss a large variety of psychological needs the five most com-monly mentioned include: affection, security, achieve-ment, independence, and status. Since these needs are more subtle and do not usually lead to loss of life, people are often unaware of the tension created by them. Yet the tension can become very strong and even lead in some individuals to a complete disorganization of personality which could be termed a kind of psy-chological "death." ÷ ÷ Sister Rita REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS TiLe need for affection implies the need to give and receive love. This is very important throughout life, but seems most important during infancy and early childhood, in studies done by Ribble, Spitz and others young infants deprived of mothering, that is, fondling, petting, and other signs of affection have in some cases gradually wasted away in a disease called maras-mus. Older children and adults may not die from lack of affection but they may develop some severe person-ality deviations. The second psychological need mentioned is that of security which Karen Homey defines as the need to feel safe from the dangers of a hostile and threatening world. Physical security is not the important element here as was demonstrated by the children who ex-perienced the terrors of the London bombings during the Second World War. It was found after the war that those who were separated from their parents and sent to places of safety in the country showed more psychological disturbance and insecurity than those who lived through the raids in the city of London while staying with their parents. Evidently the presence of people who love you makes one feel more secure than any amount of physical safety in the presence of strangers. As adults, we experience insecurity when we fear that no one loves us or that those people who are present in a situation we perceive as threatening do not really know us or understand us. The next psychological need is achievement or the feeling that one has accomplished something worthwhile. The individual must be convinced himself of his achievement. Another person telling him that his work is good is not sufficient if he himself is dissatisfied with the outcome. Therefore when one reaches a personal goal, a feeling of real achievement can be experienced-- but often p~ople who are deprived of affection or feel insecure cannot feel a satisfying experience of achieve-ment. The anxiety that is generated by deprivation of these other psychological needs may either paralyze their efforts so they cannot achieve, or if they do achieve, the results are rendered personally unsatis-fying. Once a person can achieve, however, he usually wants to become independent. The need for independ-ence involves the ability to make decisions and take responsibility for one's own actions. During adolescence this need gets very strong and continues throughout life. One can never be considered a mature adult until he has achieved an independence of "though.t, decision, and action. Finally the need for status or a feeling of self-worth must be considered as probably the most improtant psychological need found in humans. The need for status includes the desire to be a worthwhile person-- to be a good person. Everyone has this very basic need to see himself as a person who is worthwhile. Anyone who views himself as bad, inferior, or inadequ.ate does not satisfy his need for status. More Americans are visiting clinical psychologists today because they "hate" themselves, than for any other reason. If this need for self-worth is not fulfilled the person cannot be really happy. A final category of human needs is not usually men-tioned in psychology books but should be noted here, that is, spiritual needs. These include a need to believe, love, and worship an absolute Being--someone outside of man who is infinitely good and powerful. Spiritual needs also include the need to "live for others," to go out to others, to have a meaning for one's life. Depriva-tion of needs in the spiritual area are less perceptible, that is, many people can seemingly go for years without showing tension over these needs. However, because these needs are most subtle does not mean they do not exist or that they are less important. Since psychology is a relatively new science it is understandable that very little investigation has been conducted in this intimate but obscure area of man's personality. Victor Frankl and other psychotherapists are writing more often these days about existential neurosis, which is a frustration and anxiety caused by a lack of purpose in one's life. Those individuals who see no purpose in life or reason for living may very often be suffering from a deprivation of spiritual needs. Now in considering the problems brought on by these needs one must remember that they can be operating on a conscious or an unconscious level. A man may be aware that he is hungry and go in search of food, or sometimes he may be unaware that the frus-tration, tension, and even depression he experiences could be eased by eating a good meal and perhaps getting a good night's sleep. So, while most physical needs are consciously felt, sometimes needs for food, sex, sleep, and so forth may be causing tension for which we cannot account. The psychological needs are much more likely to operate on an unconscious level, perhaps because many people would be loathe to admit their needs for affection, approval, status, and so forth. It is possible for a person to be aware that he needs to be loved or esteemed by others, but it is more likely that he would repress this, thereby causing the need to operate on the unconscious level. Finally, spiritual needs are most likely to be 4- 4- 4- Need~ o] Celibates VOLUME 29, 1970 665 Sister Rita REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 666 repressed and many people go through life not realizing that they have a human need for God--a need to depend on an all-powerful Being for love and help. One might ask how a discussion of these needs js involved in the problems of celibates. It is the thesis of this paper that many celibates can stand the frustration involved in a deprivation of the sex need if other needs are adequately met. For religious it is likely that the physical and spiritual needs are satisfied more often than the psychological ones. Because of faulty training in the areas of friendship, detachment, and obedience a number of celibates ex-perience extreme frustration in areas of at~ection, security, and independence. Because of a fear of engendering pride or a false concept of humility many religious practices have also deprived individuals of a feeling of self-worth. Rarely in the past was praise given for work well-done, and it is the unusual person who can satisfy his need for self-esteem unless he sees others regarding him as a good person. In the past some celibates ma~ have been able to maintain some feeling of worth and goodness based solely on the assumption that celibacy was a "higher" form of life than marriage. Now, postconcilar writers are emphasizing that all states of life can lead to sanctity and that all Christians are called to lead a life of perfection. By thus equalizing the various states, the only prop that some celibates had for a feeling of self-worth (admittedly it was a poor onel) has been pulled away from them. Also in the past the People of God tended to look to those leading a celibate life as somehow being better than non-celibate Christians. Now there is a tendency in Catholic books, articles, and newspapers to question the value of celibacy. This questioning accompanied some-times with a kind of ridicule and cynicism may even-tually cause some celibates to become skeptical about the celibate commitment they have made. Those religious and priests who are abandoning the state of celibacy and seeking dispensations to marry are not necessarily suffering primarily from the deprivation of the sex need. It may be that a person who feels lonely, unloved, and unappreciated may seek in the marriage state the companionship, love, and appreciation that could legitimately have been given him in a loving Christian community. On the other hand, it must be admitted that some celibates may feel it necessary to invest their love in one person of the opposite sex, and thus realize that marriage is the only solution for them. In a recent study cited in the International Herald Tribune (March 10, 1970) the results of a Harvard study conducted by James Gill, S.J., showed that in the case of the 2500 priests leaving the United States priest-hood each year, celibacy does not seem to be the major causal factor. Father Gill indicates that he finds that the priests who are leaving and marrying are very often depressed. The priest dropout was most often a man who found himself taken for granted in a crowded system that sometimes denies the human need for approval. This discovery has caused some of the Church's most dedicated and talented priests to become sad, lonely, disillusioned, and resentful. As one examines these findings of Gill, one is reminded of a similar syndrome that psychiatrists have found in many young business executives--men who find themselves caught up in a structure filled with activity but which leaves the individual disillusioned with a system that deperson-alizes him. It is likely, then, that the American culture is a big factor in the working structui~e of the Church in the United States and that the same conditions that operate in the society to dehumanize the individual are also operating in the Church structure. In a personality analysis, Gill found that many of the priest dropouts were task-oriented men, who were raised by their parents in such a way that the achieve-ment of goals, particularly difficult ones, appealed strongly to them. They tended to go about their work in a compulsive, perfectionistic way, not seeking or enjoying pleasure from it, but aiming unconsciously at the recognition and approval they would gain from those they served. Father Gill goes on to show that when this recognition and approval are not experienced, the priest is in deep emotional trouble. It takes between five and fifteen years for a priest like this to experience the disillusion-ment that will eventually lead to some kind of a crisis. The priest then begins to feel that he is being taken for granted, that nobody seems to care how hard he has worked. Usually priests like this have so consistently performed in a better than average manner that bishops and religious superiors simply expect that they will do a good job. Since applause and approval come less frequently with the passing years the priest gradually feels more and more dissatisfied with himself, with his role in the church, and with his requirement of celibacy, At this point in his life, he becomes an easy prey to emotional involvement with the first sensitive woman who comes into his life. It is evident from Gill's study and those of others that celibacy or deprivation of the sex need is not necessarily the principal problem. Many priests and VOLUME 29, '1970 religious who leave to marry are probably seeking satis-faction for basic psychological needs that could legiti-mately and rightly have been satisfied in a celibate community, or a group of Christians Who practice charity by looking out for the needs of their fellow-man. Celibates must be capable of interacting on a deep personal level with at least a few people. Through. these friendships they will be able to love and appreciate themselves, which in turn enables them to love others. ~In the past, authority figures were looked to for approval and recognition which would lead to some psychological satisfaction and a feeling of self-worth in the celibate. In the light of the findings cited above, it would seem advisable to educate all members of the celibate community (and eventually all the People of God) to a clear understanding of these emotional needs. Only in this way will it be possible for the celibate to receive from some of his peers th~ affection, approval, and sense of self-worth which is so necessary if he is to sustain the frustrations of living in a celibate en-vironment. New ideas about love, friendship, and obedience must be given to all sectors of the community, young and old alike, if the celibate is to survive psychologically. Also the value of the celibate life must be rediscovered, not as a "higher" kind of life, but as a life that can lead to a rich, happy existence as one spends it living for others and thereby living for God. ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Rita REVIEW FOR" REI;IGIOUS 668 THOMAS A. KROSNICKI, S.V.DI The Early.Practice of Communion in the Hand Travel in the United States and Europe has reen-forced my impression that the practice of Communion reception in the hand has already become quite com-mon. Understandably, the reaction that it causes is quite varied. On the one hand, it is labeled another liberal innovation; on the other, it is seen as the. result of an honest endeavor to make the reception of the Eucharist an authentic sign. In any case, and this is the purpose of the present article, we should realize that this practice, now officially permitted in. Belgium, France, Germany, and Switzerland, is not an. unprec-edented development in the liturgy of the Church.1 Synoptic Considerations The Synoptic accounts record the institution narra-tive as taking place in the setting of a meal which was almost certainly the Passover meal.~ The bread that Jesus used at the Lord's Supper would have been the unleavened bread (matzoth) of the Jewish Passover rite. It is interesting to note, however, that by the time the evangelists set about to record the institution event, they simply used the Greek word "artos," or leavened bread. This is understandable since it is generally accepted by Scripture scholars that the words of institution in the Gospels present the tradition concerning the Lord's Sup-per as preserved in the very celebration of the Eucharist in the early Christian communities. It seems, therefore, that when the Eucharist was celebrated outside the Thomas A. Kros-nicld is a member of Collegio del Verbo Divino; Ca-sella ~.Postale" 5080; Rome, Italy. VOLUME 2% 1970 See "Taking Communion," Worship, v. 43 (1969), p. ~440. Mt 26:26; Mk 14:22-3; Lk 22:19. 669 ÷ T. A. Kromicki, $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Passover week, leavened bread was commonly used by the early Church) We should also note in this context the word used to describe the distribution of the eucharistized bread. Jesus simply gave it to those who were present. "Take and eat," Jesus said to his apostles. The verb used is the Greek Xa~/3~vo~ which is a generic verb indicating the simple act of taking (with the hand) as is seen from the use of the same verb in Luke 22:19 where Jesus "took the leavened bread." (K~d Xo~v &prov). Frbm these considerations, though no direct proof is established, two points can be asserted. In the Apostolic Church the Eucharist was leavened bread and was dis-tributed in the ordinary manner of giving. A few selected texts ~om the writings of the Church fathers will clearly demonstrate that hand reception of the Eucharist was practiced in the first centuries. Tertullian to Cyril of Jerusalem We would not expect to find in the writings of the fathers an exact account of the mode of Communion reception that was common at their time. There was no reason for them to explain such practices. The most that one can find in searching through their works are oc-casional references to the practice. These indications point to hand reception. The oldest witness we have that the faithful received the Eucharist outside of the solemn liturgy and, in fact, in their homes, is Tertullian (d. 220). At the same time he is an implicit witness for the early practice of hand communion: A whole day the zeal of faith will direct its pleading to this quarter: bewailing that a Christian should come .from idols into the Church; should come from an adversary workshop into the house of God; should raise to God the Father hands which are the mothers of idols; should pray to God with the hands which, out of doors, are prayed to in opposition to God; should apply to the Lord's body those hands which confer bodies on demons. Nor is this sufficient. Grant that it be a small matter, if from other hands they received what they contaminate; but even those very hands deliver to others what they have con-taminated. Idol-artificers are chosen even into the ecclesiastical order. Oh wickednessl Once did the Jews lay hands on Christ; these mangle His body daily. Oh hands to be cut offl Now let the saying, 'If thy hand make thee to do evil, amputate it,' (Mt. 18.8) see to it whether it were uttered by way of similitude (merely). What hands more to be amputated than those in which scandal is done to the Lord's body? * ~ Encyclopedic Dictionary of the Bible (New York: 1963), pp. 697- 702; Joseph M. Powers, Eucharistic Theology (London: 1968), pp. 60-1. ~ Tertullian, On Idolatry (PL, v. 1, col. 744C-745A; trans.: Ante- Nicene Fathers, v. 11 [Edinburgh: 1869], p. 149). In Tertullian's To His Wife which discusses the dangers incurred by a Christian wife even with a "tolerant" pagan husband, we read: Do you think to escape notice when you make the Sign of the Cross on your bed or on your body? Or when you blow away, with a puff of your breath, some unclean thing? Or when you get up, as you do even at night, to say your prayers? In all this will it not seem that you observe some magical ritual? Will not your husband know what it is you take in secret before eating any other food? If he recognizes it as bread, will he not believe it to be what it is rumored to be? Even if he has not heard these rumors, will he be so ingenuous as to accept the explana-tion which you give, without protest, without wondering whether it is really bread and not some magic charm?" The Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus of Rome (d. 235) goes into even more detail when giving prudential advice about home (and understandably hand) reception of the Eucharist: Every believer, before tasting other food, is to take care to receive the Eucharist. For if he receives it with faith, even if afterwards he is given something poisonous, it will not be able to do him harm. Everyone is to take care that no unbeliever, no mouse or other animal eats of the Eucharist, and that no particle of the Eucharist falls on the ground or is lost. For it is the Body of the Lord that the faithful eat and it is not to be treated care-lessly. o Cyprian's (d. 258) exhortation to the martyrs en-courages them to arm their right hands with the sword of the Spirit because it is the hand which "receives the Body of the Lord": And let us arm with the sword of the Spirit the right hand that it may bravely reject the deadly sacrifices that the hand which, mindful of the Eucharist, receives the Body of the Lord, may embrace Him afterwards to receive from the Lord the reward of the heavenly crown.~ When the same author speaks of the lapsed Christians, he says: On his back and wounded, he threatens those who stand and are sound, and because he does not immediately receive the Lord's Body in his sullied hands or drink of the Lord's blood with a polluted mouth, he rages sacrilegiously against the priests? ~ Tertullian, To His Wife (PL, v. 1, col. 1408AB; trans.: Ancient Christian Writers, v. 13 [Westminster: 1951], p. 30). ' 6 Hippolytus, Apostolic Tradition, cc. 36-7 (Bernard Botte, ed., La Tradition apostolique de saint Hippolyte [Miinster: 1963], pp. 82-5; trans.: Lucien Deiss, Early Sources o] the Liturgy [Staten Island: 1967], p. 68). ~ Cyprian, Letter 56 (PL, v. 4, col. 367AB; trans.: The Fathers o] the Church [hereafter = FC], v. 51 [Washington: 1964], p. 170 where the letter appears as Letter 58). 8 Cyprian, The Lapsed (PL, v. 4, col. 498B; trans.: FC, v. 36 [1958], pp. 76-7). ÷ ÷ ÷ 2". A. KrosM¢~, $.V~D. REVIEW FOR RELI@IOUS Moreover, Cyprian gives us two accounts of persons who were not worthy to receive the Eucharist in their hands. He writes: And when a certain woman tried with unclean hands to open her box in which was the holy Body of the Lord, there-upon she was deterred by rising fire from daring to touch it. And another man who, himself defiled, after celebration of the sacrifice dared to take a part with the rest, was unable to eat or handle the holy Body of the Lord, and found when he opened his hands that he was carrying a cinder.D Hand Communion reception was certainly practiced in the time of persecution as we know from Cyprian, but Basil (d. 379) is our best witness to this fact: Now, to receive the Communion daily, thus to partake of the holy Body of Christ, is an excellent and advantageous practice; for Christ Himself says clearly: 'He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has life everlasting.' Who doubts that to share continually in the life is nothing else than to have a manifold life? We ourselves, of course, receive Communion four times a week, on Sundays, Wednesdays, Fridays,. and Saturdays; also on other days, if there is a commemoration of some saint. As to the question concerning a person being compelled to receive Communion by his own hand in times of persecution, when there is no priest or minister present, it is superfluous to show that the act is in no way offensive, since long-continued custom has confirmed this practice because of circumstances themselves. In fact, all the monks in the solitudes, where there is no priest, preserve Communion in their house and receive it .from their own hands. In Alexandria and in Egypt, each person, even of those belonging to the laity, has Communion in his own home, and, when he wishes, he receives with his own hands. For, when the priest has once and for all com-pleted the sacrifice and has given Communion, he who has once received it as a whole, when he partakes of it daily, ought reasonably to believe that he is partaking and receiving from him who has given it. Even in the Church the priest gives the particle, and the recipient holds it completely in his power and so brings it into his mouth with his own hand. Accordingly, it is virtually the same whether he receives one particle from the priest or many particles at one time?° There is reference here to more than hand commun-ion. Since no priest or deacon was present, in this case the persons communicated themselves. This was not, however, limited to times of persecution, as Basil points out. Cyril of Jerusalem (d. 386) gives us the clearest ac-count of the manner of hand communion common at his time. In his Mystagogic Catecheses addressed to his D Cyprian, The Lapsed (PL, v. 4, col. 500B-501A; trans.: FC, v. 36 [1958], pp. 79-80). Cyprian notes the practice of taking the Eucharist home and the reception of communion outside of the liturgical celebration. The Eucharist was in this ease reserved in some sort of a box. ~ Basil, Letter 93 (PG, v. 32, col. 484B-485B; trans.: FC, v. 13 [1951], pp. 208--9). catechumens we read: When you approach, do not go stretching out your open hands or having your fingers spread out, but make the left hand into a throne for the right which shall receive the King, and then cup your open hand and take the Body of Christ, reciting the Amen. Then sanctify with all care your eyes by touching the Sacred Body, and receive It. But be careful that no particles fall, for what you lose would be to you as if you had lost some of your members. Tell me, if anybody had given you gold dust, would you not hold fast to it with all care, and watch lest some of it fall /and be lost to you? Must you not then' be even more careful with that which is more precious than gold or diamonds, so that no particles are lost? u Augustine and the Early Middle Ages As we see from the above excerpts, the method of Communion reception up to the time o[ Augustine at least, indicates the practice of hand reception. With Augustine (d. 430) two innovations become apparent for the first time. The men are told to wash their hands; the women are instructed to receive the Eucharist on a white cloth, commonly called the "dominicale]" laid over their hands.1~ In Sermon 229 he writes: All the men, when intending to approach the alt~r, wash their hands, and all the women bring with them clean linen cloths upon which to receive, the body of Christ, thus they should have a clean body and pure heart so that they may re-ceive the sacrament of Christ with a good conscience.~ The same practice is mentioned in the Sermons of Caesarius of Arles.14 The first witness that this author was able to find, giving an explicit example of mouth reception of the Eucharist, was Gregory the Great (d. 604). The case in question is the reception of the Eucharist by an invalid from the hand of Pope Agapitus (535-536): While he [Agapitus] was passing through Greece, an invalid who could neither speak nor stand up was brought to him to be cured. While the weeping relatives set him down before the man of God he asked them with great concern whether they truly believed it possible for the man to be cured. They an-swered that their confident hope in his cure was based on the ~a Cyril of Jerusalem, Mystagogic Catecheses (PG, v. 33, col. l124B- 1125A; trans.: Joseph A. Jungmann, The Mass o[ the Roman Rite [London: 1959], pp. 508-9). ~ In 578 the Council of Auxerre stated the same in Canons 36 and 42 (Mansi, v. 9, p. 915). Canon ~6: "A woman is not to receive com-munion on the bare hand." Canon 42: "That every woman when communicating should have her 'dominicale.' If she does not have it, she should not communicate until the following Sunday." ~Augustine, Sermon 229 (PL, v. 39, col. 2168A). The sermon is probably by St. Maximus of Turin (Sth century). x~ Caesarius of Aries, Sermon 227 (Corpus Christianorum, v. 14, pp. 899-900; trans.: Andr~ Hamman, The Mass: Ancient Liturgies and Patristic Texts [Staten Island: 1967], pp. 242-3). ÷ ÷ ÷ Communion VOLUME 29~ 1970 673 4. 4. T. A. Krosnicki, $.V.D. REVIEW FOR ~ELIGIOUS power of God and the authority of Peter. Agapitus turned im-mediately to prayer, and so began the celebration of Mass, offering the holy Sacrifice to almighty God. As he left the altar after the Mass, he took the lame man by the hand and, in the presence of a large crowd of onlookers, raised him from the ground till he stood erect. When he placed the Lord's Body in his mouth, the tongue which had so long been speechless was loosed.= It would be difficult to conclude from this one example that this was the common practice of the time, for it is known that on occasion the Eucharist was applied to parts of the body as a form of sanctification of the senses or as a cure.an Agapitus might have preferred in this incident to place the Eucharist on the tongue of the invalid since, as Gregory relates, the man Was mute. Gregory also notes: "When he placed the Lord's Body in his mouth, the tongue which had for so long been speechless was loosed." In the eighth century writings of Bede (d. 735) we come across another example of hand reception of communion. Describing the death of a brother, he writes in his Ecclesiastical History: When they had lain down there, and had been conversing happily and pleasantly for some time with those that were in the house before, and it was now past midnight, he asked them, whether they had the Eucharist within? They answered, 'What need of the Eucharist? For you are not yet appointed to die, since you talk so merrily with us, as if you were in good health.' 'Nevertheless,' said he, 'bring me the Eucharist.' Having re-ceived It into his hand, he asked whether they were all in charity with him, and had no complaint against him, nor any quarrel or grudge. They answered, that they were all in perfect charity with him, and free from all anger; and in their turn they asked him to be of the same mind towards them?' Periods'of Transition The transition from the reception of the Eucharist in the hand to that of the mouth as we know it today, seems to have begun at the end of the, eighth century and is allied to the change from leavened to unleavened bread. Alcuin of York (d. 804), the learned friend and counselor of Charles the Great, seems to have been the first to indicate the use of unleavened bread,is But even then, it is unclear whether he intended to state that the bread should be unleavened or merely indicates its usage. He does, however, clearly show that unleavened ~ Gregory the Great, Dialogue 3 (PL, v. 77, col. 224B; trans.: FC, v. 39, pp. 116-117. la Plus PARSCn, The Liturgy o[ the Mass (London: 1957), p. 23. 1T Bede, Ecclesiastical History of England IV, 24 (PL, v. 95, col. 214C-215A; trans.: A. M. Sellar, Bede's Ecclesiastical History o[ England [London: 1912], pp. 280-1). ~ R. Woolley, The Bread o/the Eucharist (London: 1913), p. 18. bread was used. Along with this change to unleavened bread came the introduction of the small round wafers which no longer required breaking or chewing.19 It seems that this fact influenced the change to mouth reception of the Eucharist as well. The use of the un-leavened bread with its capability of being more easily preserved became a matter of greater convenience. The Councils of Toledo and Chelsea show that there must have been some common irreverefices on the part of the clergy when using ordinary bread for the Eucharist. The best way to obviate such disrespect was to require a special bread, other than the everyday domestic type, for the celebration of the Eucharist3° Another reason for the change to unleavened bread was to forestall any confusion between the Eucharist and the common bread of the household. The change to mouth reception became a matter not only of practicality but also as the result of the misun-derstanding of the sacrality of the individual Christian. Due to the thinking of the times, the Christian was no longer considered worthy to touch the Body of the Lord with his hands.~1 With exaggerated sentiments of humility and unworthiness, the faithful received the Eucharist on their tongues. The eucharistic practice had also been influenced by the overemphasis on the divinity of Christ to the almost exclusion of his humanity. The mortal, sinful man dare not touch with his hands the all-holy, powerful God. All of this led to the point where by the ninth century hand Communion was no longer the practice. The Council of Rouen (878) explicitly condemns hand Communion reception on the part of the lalty.~ The tenth Ordo romanus, dating from the ninth century, describes mouth reception of communion not only for the laity but even for the subdeacon. Priests and deacons, after kissing the bishop, should receive the body of Christ from him in their hands, and communicate themselves at the left side of the altar. Subdeacons, however, after kissing the hand of the bishop, receive the body of Christ from him in the mouth.~ The eighth and the ninth centuries were then the 19James Megivern, Concomitance and Communion (Fribourg: 1963), p. 29. ~0 WOOLt.EY, The Bread, p. 21. ~a See K. Bihlmeyer and H. Tiichle, Kirchengeschichte, v. 2 (Pader-born: 1958), p. 120: "In this period [the Middle Ages] in order to avoid irreverences as much as possible, in place of bread to be broken, small wafers ('hostia,' 'oblata') were introduced. For the same reason the holy food was no longer placed in the hand of the faithful but directly into the mouth." m Council of Rouen (Mansi, v. 10, pp. 1199-1200). ~Andrieu, Les Ordines romani du Haut M~yen Age, v. 2 (Lou-vain: 1948) p. 361. ÷ ÷ ÷ Communion VOLUME 2% 1970 675 periods of transition from the hand to the mouth recep-tion of the Eucharist. For a time both methods must have been in use. Once again, we find ourselves in a similar period of transition. The mouth form of recep-tion is still the more common practice but no one can deny that the practice of hand reception is becoming even more common especially among smaller groups and at Masses celebrated for special occasions. From this brief and admittedly sketchy glance at his-tory, it can be readily seen that hand Communion is not really an innovation for .it seems to have been the ordinary manner of reception of the Eucharist for al-most eight hundred years. + ÷ ÷ T. A. Krosnlcki, S.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS EDWARD J. FARRELL Penance: Return of the Heart The theological literature on penance has been en-riched by writers of the stature of Karl Rahner, Bernard H~iring, and Charles Curran; and we have, as a result, an enlarged understanding of its significance for our own day. I do not propose to speak so much of theology as of experiences and to invite you to reflect with me and to think into the mystery of penance. I speak to you as an expert to my fellow experts, as an authority among fellow authorities, because each one of us is an authority on penance. We have long lived it and we cannot have lived so long and celebrated the mystery so frequently without in some way becoming experts, authorities, or at least persons with much experience. Living itself is an experience of penance. One thing is certain; penance is alive, and anything alive changes. One of our deepest hopes is that we cim change, be-cause penance is concerned with change--not the kind of change which we sometimes call spontaneous, which we can so easily speak of in words, but a change in a much deeper level of being and action. The sacrament of penance, or penance itself which we are experiencing today, has an aura of Spring about it. There are certain seasons, certain times, certain patterns to the Christian life even as there were in Christ's life; and we follow those patterns. Christ was buried. He arose. And the truths of Christ will not be unlike Himself. There are forgotten truths in our faith, in our life experiences which have been laid aside and buried. We can become so familiar with particular realities that we forget the language. Even our relationship with Christ can be diminished. But there is always a resur-rection, always a rising. They are like bulbs which lie bur.led and forgotten in winter's chill grip, but still are there, waiting, until, mysteriously, Spring comes and we discover them. There is an expectancy about Spring. ÷ ÷ ÷ i~.dwa~d J. Fartell is a stuff membe~ o~ 8a~ed ~ea~ 8emi-n~ y; 2701 Chicago Boulevard; Detroit; Mi~igan 48206. VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ 4. l~. ]. Farrel~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 678 There is an expectancy about penance. It is a new dis-covery for each of us, something which we have not wholly experienced before and it is important that we understand the why of thii. Penance is ancient, yet ever new. There is a "today" even though we have had a "yesterday." There is in us always a newness and an aliveness. When we were young, when we were very small, we saw things in a particular way. Then we grew, grew up, de.veloped in many areas. There is, however, a certain stabilization that takes place; and if our growth did not in some way level out, we would be sixty, eighty, perhaps one hundred feet tall. Imagine the problems of the environment thenl In our early years we thought that when our physical growth had leveled off and stabilized that our growth was finished. Yet it had only begun. When we grew to a certain size perhaps we returned to the school where we once attended kindergarten and the first primary grades. The old neighborhood looked almost quaint. It looked so small because we had grown so large. This physical growth is a true growth; yet it is after we have achieved it that the real growth takes place, the growth of mind and heart and soul, by which we are led into and beyond the senses, into the arts, literature, history, philosophy, and faith. Even in our day of specialization, as one follows ever more deeply his specialization it becomes in some strange, little un-derstood way, narrower and narrower until at a mys-terious moment it opens into a wholly new horizon. At such a moment one is made aware that this universe is too vast for the mind to grasp. It is, then, in this experience that man slowly and painfully becomes little. It is then that he begins to acquire real knowledge, real humility, that he moves toward maturity. I think that we are on the edge of this kind of growth. No longer do we need the pride and arrogance of adolescence. This humility, or perhaps humiliation, has touched all of us. We become aware of an unsureness, the unsureness of maturity; we begin at last to know that we do not know and perhaps will never know all that we so much desire to know. A pro-found transformation, a growth, an evolution now takes place in us. Now we begin to discover truths which we really had never known, yet were there awaiting our discovery, our awakening to their being. We never knew them at all, we never saw them; they were there but we did not see them. We have heard about these ideas, con-cepts, truths, perhaps even talked about them. Now, however, in this new experience we have no word, no thought, no concept, perhaps not even a theology. Now we become much more people of experienced awareness and all must be initialed with our initial and be ours in our unique w~y; otherwise, we belong to no one, nor do the truths belong to us. We begin to know ourselves in a new context of spiritual knowledge. I think this experience is true especially of the mysteries of Christ, the mystery of the Church-~which is essentially mystery--the mystery of penance, the mystery of celi-bacy; and the mystery of human action, the mystery of your act and of my act. When we do something, it is irreversible. We never can step back and undo it. .There is an act which we call a promise and that act nails down the future. It is an absurdity because who can speak for his future; and yet a promise is possible and is perhaps the most significant act a person makes; for we know, even as we make the act, that it is unpredictable; even beyond that, any act has an ano-nymity in its effect. We do not know what effect it will have, how long it will endure, what changes it will create. Humanly speaking, the past, the future, even the present are so much not in our grasp. Yet in all of our acts the mystery of Christ speaks to each one of these realities. He speaks to tile events of the past, reversing what we have done in the act of forgiveness and of penance, in the act of promise in the future which is involved in the penance, the metanoia, the change that we are seeking. The Gospel very simply summarizes Christ's begin-ning: "The time is fulfilled, the kingdom is at hand. Repent, believe in the gospel." How ancient those words are and how new; yet who has heard them? Who has heard them and put them to life? This says something about the mystery of Christ to us and the mystery of His Church which can never be separated from Him. To think of the Church without Christ is to miss the mystery of both. So we move in this deep awareness into the inwardness of Christian mystery, into a knowing, into, finally, a .meaning of penance. And penance, what is it? It is a hunger, a hunger for change; it is a hunger for newness, a hunger for life, for growth; it is a hunger for wholeness and holiness; it is a hunger for experience. Most of all, I think, it is a hunger for being with and to and for. It is a relation-ship that is being sought. It is a togetherness. It is profoundly significant that the command of Christ was: "Repent." Why did He not begin with Eucharist? Is the Eucharist not enough? Was it enough for Christ? He began with: "Repent"; He concluded with Eucha-rist. It is interesting to recall the briefly recorded con-versations of Christ with His Disciples. One day our ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 6'79 ÷ ÷ ÷ ~. ]. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 680 Lord asked them: "Who do you say I am?" They are always interesting, both the questions of Christ and the commands of Christ, because they are so personal, be-cause they are asked directly of us throughout the whole of our life, and because these are the call He gives to us. He asked: "Who do you say I am?" To answer for the whole group, one volunteered--Peter, and he called back who he was. At the end of our Lord's mission, after the resurrection, He spoke to Peter again but this time He spoke his name: "Simon Peter, do you love me?"--not once, not twice, but three times. By name, He called him out by namel "Simon Peter, do you love me?" and as a consequence of Peter's answer, He gave another command. He said: "Feed, feed my sheep"- strengthen your brethren. Long ago you all made profession and how many times have you made confession since? What is the re-lationship between profession--confession? You cannot find it in the dictionary, but I think there is a very necessary correlation between profession and confes-sion. Peter's profession of faith and Peter's confession of love--this is what penance is all about. Really, sin is a very secondary thing.'Sin is unimportant to Christ. Penance is about a change, a change in our capacity to love. You made your final profession in words and we are all moving toward our final confession. Each one of us has his own history of penance. Just imagine trying to go over your confessions the last year or five years or ten years; imagine forty years of confessions, and how many confessions have yet to be made? Confession: we know the confessions of Jeremiah in the Old Testament, about the mirabilia Dei, the wonder-ful things of God; the confessions of St. Augustine have disappointed many a reader who was looking for true confessions and there is so little there---eating a few pears, an illegitimate child. Really all he is talking about is the first extraordinary discovery and the ongoing discovery of the love of God for him and the power it effected in him. This is why we can speak of his con-fessions. Penance is first of all a confession, a song of praise to God. How unfortunate we are. We so often have said and perhaps still do say: "I cannot find any-thing to confess." Well, even if we did, it would be merely a partial confession because the first thing about penance is to find something, to find the love that one has received, to sing about it, to confess it. Penance is first of all an act of prayer and of worship, of thanks-giving, a recognition, a discovering of the wonderful love of God for us. But that is only part of it because it is only in the strength of this love that there can be sin. If one has not yet tasted or seen or felt something of the love of God, then he cannot sin because sin is cor-relative to love, and there cannot be any sin except in the context of love because sin does not exist except in the non-response to love. Penance is a discovery of what love is and what it is to love. A sister once commented: "In our community there are so many, almost everyone, who are ready to forgive. There is so much forgiveness but there is no one who can confess her need for forgiveness." It is so easy to forgive. Did anyone ever confront you with the words: "I forgive you"? Have you ever been forgiven by another person, a second or third or fourth or twentieth time. The words, "I forgive," do not make any difference. You can come to me and tell me you are sorry and I can say I am sorry, too--about the book you lost or about the car that got dented, but that does not change. You can tell me you are sorry about the way you got angry and what you called me, and I can say, "I forgive you," but what happens when we say that word? Can we forgive? When we say, "I forgive," we are not talking about the action of God, we are not talking about the grace of Christ or the word of the Church; we are saying: "I am trying not to respond to you as you deserve." That is what we ordinarily mean, and implicitly, there is a warning, "Do not let it happen again," because when it does happen again, we remind them: "How many times?" Forgiveness? There are not many of us who are capable of forgiveness. There is no one of us who is capable of forgiveness in the sense that God forgives and Christ forgives, because when Christ forgives, He is not saying He is not going to respond to us as we de-serve but He reaches into us, to the very roots of that which makes us the irascible persons we are. He does something if we let Him, if we are ready to be healed, to be touched, and to be cured. No person can forgive sin. We can empathize with people, we can say we are sorry that they are the miserable creatures they are, but we cannot change them unless we have the capacity to love them with the love of Christ. Otherwise they are untouched by our forgiveness and this is why there is a need and a hunger to be freed from our incapacity to love and not simply to be excused and accepted and remain unchanged. In the great mystery of Christ's death and resurrection it is the sacrament of penance that enables us in some way to get in touch with Him because without getting in touch with Him we cannot do His work. There is a strange misunderstanding in those who feel that the Eucharist is enough, that they can ignore our Lord's call to repent and forget our Lord's suffering and death. It is as if in some way I can forgive myself, can just ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 681 4. 4. E. ]. Farreli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 682 tell Him I am sorry or we can tell one another: "I forgive you, forget about it." In our non-response to love, our inability to love we experience the fact that we cannot heal, that we do not cnre. As someone said, it is not so much that the community or Church' has hurt them, but it has not healed them and that is why they can no longer suffer in this way. It is a partial truth, perhaps, but it is a truth. So often w~ cannot put this need for healing into words but we do expect, we do expect something. Some of our older brethren in Christ are not, I think, too far off in their intuition about the relationship between penance and Eucharist, pen-ance and community; and I think I would say that there is a correlation between the diminishment irl the cele-bration and experience of penance and the diminish-merit in community. The sacrament, the life of penance which is but the life of Christ lived out continually, is the most personal of all the sacraments, the most intense and, therefore, the most difficult. Perhaps it is the last sacrament we are ready for because it demands so much of us; it demands such maturity, it demands such a capacity to suffer, the most terrible kind of suffering, to really learn who we are, and we will do anything to escape that kind of suffering, that kind of anguish. Who of us is really ready to face the living God? There is so much we do in our life to prevent this happening. We talk a good faith, we even have many theologies, b~t who of us really wants to know himself as the Lord knows him? We do not have many temptations. It is the saints who are the primary witnesses to faith, not the theologians who are the primary witnesses--the saints, unlettered, undoctoral but primary witnesses to love. We do not get tempted too often to express our sorrow in the dramatic gesture perhaps of a Mary Magdalen. We do not to6 often weep over our sins, prostrate our-selves before the Eucharist or the Christian community and confess what we are. We have forgotten and per-haps at times we do not even have the capacity any longer because it has been so underexercised. Yet the life of Christ and the reality of man speak out, and we find an extraordinary emergence today from beyond those who are called to give public witness to the mystery of Christ. We find the phenomena of penance and confession and public confession in those "outside." We see it in Alcoholics Anonymous, we see it in Syna-non groups, in sensitivity groups, encounter groups, where the first thing persofis do is to repent, to bare their souls on the guts level and expose who they are. It is an extraordinary experience to experience our poverty and our honesty and in so many ways our nothingness and it gives a kind kind of game can ever give us. It who are or who have been in a there are no games left any more real. We see this, and perhaps l-IS. of freedom which no is something like those mental hospital where and all they can be is it say~ something to The Lord does not accuse us, the Lord does not call to mind our sins: we are the only ones that remember them. The Lord simply asks us again and again: "Do you love me?" Today one is often questioned on the frequency of confession. Should religious go every week to confession?. I think it is very important to see the sacrament of penance in terms of the totality of the Christian life; it is not something that can have its significance only in isolation and only in terms of sin. There was a valid aspect, I think, to the intuition and practice of the Church in encouraging and calling her priests and re-ligious to confession regularly and I am sure it was not so much in terms of their need for absolution from sin but more in terms of confession of the praise of God, and for a deeper understanding of how priests and religious in a special way are the most highly visible embodiment of the Body of Christ. There was an extraordinary article in Time maga-zine in February on environment and I would certainly commend it to your spiritual reading. In this article some experts say that we have so interfered with the ecological system of the world that it is irreversible and human life cannot continue on this planet beyond 200 years. This was just a small portion of the article but it drove home" the reality that the smallest atom has a history, has an effect that goes so far beyond itself that it is almost incalculable what any act of ours can do. I think it speaks so strongly, about the mystery of human community and how we affect one another not only for a moment but have an ongoing effect; and that nothing is really lost. It speaks so strongly to the awareness we must carry within ourselves of the responsibility Christ took upon Himself for the whole world and for the sin and inability and absence of love in so many. It speaks to the fact that to follow Christ's likeness we, too, must be totally concerned with the conversion and transformation of people and where there is not love, to put love. When religious or priests go to confession, they go first of all to recognize that they are sinners and no one of us gets beyond that basic fact--that we are sinners even though saved. The remarkable thing in the testimony and history of the saints is that the more one grows in his experience of the love of Christ, the more ÷ ÷ ÷ Penance VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ E. ]. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 684 he realizes how much this love is absent in himself and he is drawn to the sacrament of penance out of his life experience; not from some external "you ought to" or "you should," but because it becomes more and more a need. There is a hunger for it which cannot be satisfied by anything less except being plunged into this mystery of Christ. St. Catherine of Siena spoke so deeply of this mystery in words that sound strange and rather strong to us-- "Being washed in the blood of Christ." But at the same time, these are words that are deeply Scriptural--Isaian --the Suffering Servant--the mystery of the blood of Christ. We need to be. deeply penetrated with them. We need to be aware that when we go to confession, which is a profession of faith, a confession of love, and a deep experience of a need to be touched by Christ and to be transformed by Him, sgmething takes place even though there is no way of validating it in terms of a pragmatic principle. It does not make a difference. ~¥hy bother? We cannot measure it on the yday to day level just as life cannot be measured on that particular level. There are movements within ourselves that per-haps take a long time before they can make their mani-festation in our nervous system, on the tip of our fingers. When we go to confession we need to be aware that a whole community is involved, not just a par-ticular house but everyone who is in our lives. We can pick up the paper and read about the crime and the violence, especially to the young and the old, and the helpless, the war, and unemployment, and we can read it and so what? It does not seem to enter into the very life that we are living. We are called to be that Suffering Servant and to make up in ourselves what is lacking in others, to in some way experience what Paul experienced. When someone was tempted, he, himself, felt the fire o{ it; when someone was sick, he, himself, experienced it--that deep interpenetration of all these people involved in Christ. So, when one goes to the sacrament of penance, it is for one's own sins-- the incapacity, the inability to love, missing the mark so often, but it is also in terms of the sins of others. Christ's whole life was this life of penance. Religious living is and has to be a following in this life of penance, this ongoing change, this ongoing conversion. One of the problems of frequent confession is the confessor. I think we are all caught .in this together. Our theology is usually behind our experience, and there are many priests who have had great difficulty in finding confessors themselves. I do not think there is more than one in thirty priests who has a confessor, has a spiritual director; and there has been a great impoverishment because we have not recognized nor developed this charism. I do think there is a special apostolate that the Christian and especially the relig